Fanart for this chapter in my profile

Chapter 21

It didn't come to him until he saw her surprised face.

To be completely honest, he didn't even know how he got there. All he knew was that he just came from a case and had to take 285 stairs to get to the finish line. So when he knocked on the silver door and waited a couple of seconds to hear footsteps on the other side he had no speech prepared to vindicate his presence at her place.

The door cracked open and he saw her standing there like a Holy Grail, a balm for his troubled mind. Face twisted with worry as she took in his form up and down and ended with her gaze on his face.

"Spencer," Tea stammered out, concern betraying her voice. "What are you doing here?" she breathed out and he was caught in the moment.

His conscious mind was still stuck somewhere back in the morgue as he couldn't even remotely begin to grasp the notion of his body moving on its own accord and ending up at this particular place.

It was not their Indian day today; he came to the realization. Nor did he came to pick up something forgotten or deliver a message. He tried to recap the last half an hour and remember taking a bus or crossing streets but for the life of him he couldn't remember anything after departing from the hospital's basement. It was all blank. Like as if his mind decided to let awareness take a vacation and let autopilot take over. And his heart started to beat an inch faster as he realized being on autopilot meant coming to her.

He had to fight his mouth to respond in intelligible fashion. "We had a case," he replied dazzled, in no great hurry to explain further.

It didn't make much sense to him, but he hoped the girl on the other side of the door would understand the unspoken words. Like she always did.

And she seemed to figure out what he was slow to comprehend as her eyebrows rose momentary and her lips shaped in perfectly rounded 'o'. He saw her hands move his way before she caught herself in time and let them drop alongside her frame. "Why didn't you let me know?" she asked, distress marring her face. "Come inside."

Spencer's feet acted before a proper discussion with his brain could take place again as he stepped inside without much pressure.

"You are all wet. Why are you all wet?" She scolded with no real blame or anger behind it. She got a hold of his coat and took it off, letting it drop carelessly on the floor behind him. She nudged him at the crook of his elbow before her hand slid down and grasped his wrist.

He could feel the touch burn through the shirt sleeve right into his skin and it spread all over his arm to his heart where it left a sense of warmth. Without any meaning to, he found himself again in her bathroom where she ordered him to undress with no option to object. He put away his gun and slowly started to work on the buttons on his cardigan when he found himself alone in the room. Sometime during his fourth button on the shirt he noted another pair of hands helping him maneuver the shirt out of his pants and start unbuttoning it from the bottom. Before he could connect the hands to a person and object, the shirt was already yanked off him, leaving goosebumps trailing alongside his forearms.

"Pants too," Tea reminded him when he stood there like a statue. She draped a towel over his shoulders and crouched down to untie his soaked converse shoes.

Spencer didn't make a move to obey until he heard her threaten him to undress him herself if he won't do it. She turned her back to him to give him some privacy, rummaging through a pile of clothes she brought along few moments ago. He actually had the audacity to consider his options for about a second before he let his fingers work on the belt and zipper.

"Done," he whispered, securing the towel from his shoulders around his hips.

Tea returned to his side without a word as she handed him another towel to dry himself and sprawled one more over his head and began working on his dripping wet hair.

"What kind of genius does get himself soaked to the bones?" she whispered slightly, unable to tell if it was a serious question directed at him or just her thoughts vocalized out loud.

Spencer shrugged apathetic and champed on his lower lip, fighting either a remark or a moan as he felt a hot breath on his neck and ear. It caused a new set of goosebumps, now on the back on his neck. His breath hitched and his eyes shut in painful expression.

"I know you are cold but we need to get you dry and into new clothes. Please cooperate with me; I don't want you to catch hypothermia," the girl begged.

"I'm… I'm not going to catch hypothermia," opposed Spencer weakly. "I'm not shivering, my speech is perfectly normal, and my heart doesn't beat any faster than it is supposed to." Although it might have skipped a few beats when he felt her hands accidentally brush against his bare skin.

"Any more symptoms I should know about?"

"Nothing relevant at the moment. I will let you know if… if something occurs," he promised.

Suddenly the towel disappeared from his head along with Tea as the girl stepped back to grab some clothes from the pile on the washing machine. It took maybe three - four seconds but it left Spencer startled when he lost the source of heat coming from the body in his close proximity and was instead met with cool air. He didn't know how he did it but somehow he managed to conceal the sharp breath he drew in before the girl turned back to him.

"Here, put this on," she handed him a loose t-shirt and after that a heavy wool cardigan. "I'm leaving the rest here," she pat the clothes, "please put them on. All of them. If you won't be out in five minutes without a plausible excuse I will march in and dress you up myself. Are we clear?"

Spencer nodded hastily, well aware she could execute her threats without hesitation. Soon he has left alone again and he could do nothing but sigh and reach for the clothes. There were sweatpants, long enough to fit his form, thick socks and, of course, boxer shorts that he had no other option but to get on. He did so reluctantly, put aside the wet towels and clothes and stepped out of the bathroom in search for Tea.

He found her in the kitchen ready to give him another orders.

"There, go sit down," she said indicating to the couch in the living room as soon as she saw him coming her way. She was pleased to note he did so without much grumbling. She poured hot water into a huge, pint sized mug mixing it with instant chicken soup. It was nothing like the real deal but it was warm and liquid, exactly what the boy on her couch needed the most at the moment. She stirred it a couple of times while she walked over to him and thrust it in his hands, urging him to drink it slowly. She also reached for a blue blanket but Spencer protested and told her to keep it, indicating to the simple cami and long sleeping pants she wore, to keep herself warm.

She pulled it over her shoulders and sat down next to him. "What happened?" she asked finally, although hesitantly.

Spencer blinked a couple of times, nurturing the mug in his hands. "We, uh, we had a case here… in D.C.," he replied slowly, barely trusting his voice. "There was this rampage shooter… and… I'm sorry I didn't mean to come here."

"It's ok, I'm glad you did," Tea assured him, brushing her hand lightly across his knee.

That single action of comfort made him glance at her hand at his knee and then finally at the girl herself from under his thin eyelashes. "I uh… kinda got used to this and then I wasn't thinking properly and my feet dragged me here and… I…," he shrugged, not knowing how to continue.

"Are you alright? You weren't hurt, were you?"

"No! No, I was safe the whole time. JJ might have a bruise though but otherwise no one of us… my team, was harmed. It was not even a hard case, not like some others, just one Unsub, didn't take even that long."

"But?"

Spencer shrugged again and bit into his inner cheek. "But it brought some answers to the questions I feared to pose for a long time."

"Will you save the toe nail or will it have to come off?"

"Wh-? No," he shook his head but the slightest of smiles played on his lips. "I think it will have to come off," he wiggled his right feet. It was known that he was clumsy sometimes. And not looking at where he was going had to backfire on him someday. Spencer thought stubbed toe and the dark purple color under the nail was good enough price. "A bit different type of questions. But don't worry about it."

"How can I not worry, Spencer?... Maybe you don't realize it but you are very dear to me. And I don't like seeing you so down."

She was dear to him too, he wanted to say but his mouth was unable to move. He pursed his lips and shook his head. "It's nothing," he tried again.

"Then what are you not telling me?"

A lot. "I guess it is true that men have their days too."

Tea just looked at him blankly. Not sure whether to chuckle or worry more.

Spencer thought he saw more of the latter outweigh on her face. "Today just kind of sucked. It went downhill right from the beginning… and then came the case… I wish the day was already over."

"You are stressed."

"Not exactly the term I would go for but I guess it will suffice."

"Have you tried meditating?"

Spencer's eyebrows knit together at that. "What am I, a Buddhist monk?"

"Why, with that knowledge? Yes. Shave your head and no one will know better."

"I wouldn't want to lose my hair."

"No you don't. It would be pity, wouldn't it? They are quite gorgeous."

Spencer choke a bit on the soup but managed to get a grip on himself soon afterwards. "Never heard someone calling my hair 'gorgeous'."

"But they are. I like how they bounce on the back when you are walking," replied Tea with a grin as she brushed her fingers through his hair.

He nearly lost his composure all over again. He held tight on the mug as he felt her fingers sweep over his messy hair, how they brushed against his scalp and neck. He would be a fool to deny he didn't like it. The touch was very pleasing and he had to hold himself not to lean against her hand and shut his eyes in bliss.

He knew he shouldn't be entertaining such a notion.

"Will you try meditating, please?" Tea whispered as she let her hand fall, resting it at the back of the couch, right behind Spencer's head.

"I find myself unable to deny you anything*," the boy whispered against his better judgment.

"I know, and I try to use it against you as minimum as possible," she replied playfully. "Come, I'll show you," Tea stood from the couch and sat cross-legged on the coffee table right in front of him.

"I really don't think this is something for me," opposed Spencer looking at her. She had her back straight but looked comfortably enough. Her wrists lay leisurely on her knees with thumb and middle finger touching lightly.

"It is a good way to relieve stress. If it won't help we will stop," she said and took the mug from his hands and put it next to her on the table. "Cross your legs."

Spencer sighed and shifted in his place, raising his legs on the couch and crossing them.

"Move a little bit closer to me so you can lean your back against the couch. You don't have to keep it straight like I do. Make yourself comfortable… yeah, like that. Now put your hands on your legs."

"Like you?"

"Any way you want, just keep them relaxed."

Spencer tried to imitate her but it left him restless. He moved his hands around until he found the right position; on his upper thighs with palms up. He nodded to himself and looked back at Tea for further instructions.

"Comfortable?"

"Adequate enough."

"Ok, now close your eyes."

"Is that necessary?"

"It's more relaxing."

He begged to differ.

"Trust me."

Spencer blinked a couple of times and then slowly dropped his eyes close.

"Now focus on your breathing. In and out, slowly, like you have all the time in the world."

He did so. Tried to keep himself calm and peaceful.

"Put your mind at ease."

"Oh yeah, try to keep a mind of 187 IQ at ease," he mumbled.

"Well, yeah, Yoda did it, didn't he?"

Spencer cracked his eyes open and frowned at her. Tea grinned at him.

"No peeking."

The boy shut them again with a sigh, grumbling silently to himself.

"Ok. Let's try to visualize it. Think of it as if closing a curtain. All these thoughts you have, step away from them. Keep distance until you cannot longer hear them. Let a curtain fall. Thick and black one. Let it all fade into dark; blend with the background."

Spencer took a couple of breaths and tried to follow her instructions. There were many thoughts. Most of them disconcerting. The autopsy, JJ face as she grimaced when touching her side, Garcia's information on Charman, his mother, the headaches,… There were too many thoughts to block them all.

Tea watched him as he crunched his nose and lips into an unnerving grimace. She realized a bit too late that eidetic memory might work against him and his attempts. "Spencer, listen to my voice, ok? Concentrate on it only," she spoke softly and he nodded. "Imagine a meadow, huge and surrounded by trees all around the edges. There are no people, no kids to annoy you, no animals to endanger you. You are there alone. Can you visualize that? The green all around, the blue sky above?"

It took a while but he managed to push his thoughts aside and concentrate on her voice. His mind faded into nothingness. A blank page and he felt blinded. And then he started to see it. The shapes of the tall grand sequoias in the distance, the acres of green carpet. The sky above him free of all the polluted air; composed of the most beautiful color of cerulean he ever saw. Like paintings at the God's cupola.

"All around you are flowers. Small wildflowers of white, yellow and purple. Daisies, buttercups, harebells. Can you smell them? The sweet scent of spring, lingering all around you."

There was something faint. He could detect a mild scent and he concentrated even harder; letting himself follow the lead. There, a fresh grass and soil right after the morning rain kind of smell, mixed with sweet note. Her soap. He knew she uses scented soap and it flood all over her apartment. The aroma enveloped him like a cloak and it was a tad easier to pretend he was on a place far away from mournful Washington.

"Lay down."

He did so. The grass beneath him was soft, like a bed.

He sank deeper into the couch as he let out a contented sigh.

"Above you the sun shines bright. Its sunny rays brushing against your skin, warming you up, like on a beautiful day in the middle of summer."

The clothes were warm. His feet and hands long ago forget about the cold soaking rain.

"Can you feel it? Can you picture yourself there?"

He could. He felt it all, he was in the middle. Laying there like nothing else in the world mattered. Not even the sun bothered him, he basked in its warmth, let it caress his skin. Never had he felt so relaxed, so at ease. It was so liberating, so peaceful. Almost like a library, but better. With more silence and less thinking. He didn't had to think now. He wished he didn't have to think more often.

He didn't know how long he stayed there. It felt like forever before the image faded into blackness and he slowly opened his eyes. "What happened?" he asked drowsily.

"You dozed off," replied a female voice somewhere near him. Spencer blinked a couple of times to clear his vision just to spot Tea still sitting in front of him, never switching her position.

"I did?" Odd, but not entirely unwelcome. He brushed at the corner of his eyes and shifted in his seat, bending slightly forward. "For how long?"

"About half an hour."

"Was that supposed to happen?"

"No," she offered him a lop-sided grin. "I guess you were so comfortable that your brain decided to take a nap."

"I… uh," Spencer felt some heat crawl on his face and he looked down. "W-were you sitting there the whole time?"

Now it was her time to hide the rosy cheeks. Both of them ended up embarrassed albeit for different reasons. "I didn't wanted to make any noise," Tea replied scratching her arm absently.

"It must have been uncomfortable."

"Not really. I'm used to it. Yoga sister and all," she shrugged, trying to ignore the tingling in her left leg when she moved a little. "Your soup got cold, I'll heat it."

Spencer didn't notice as she winced a bit when she stood up. He was, by all means, trying to figure out why he dozed off so suddenly. It was a bad day for sure, stressful. Bad night sleep and early wake did anything but arouse his vigor. That had to be it, he decided. The lack of sleep. He knew it would bite him in the rear one day but he didn't think it would come so soon.

"There you go," he heard from beside him and was thrust a warm mug in his hands again.

"Thanks. It feels like a cold. Wrapped in warm clothes, sipping loads of chicken soup," he raised his eyebrows at her amused. "Stick a thermometer under my tongue and I will have to reevaluate my symptoms."

"Yeah, just more flush on your cheeks and I will exactly do that, don't worry," she said mirroring his amused expression and adding a bit of mischief there.

"I was joking."

"I was not. And I just might rub some VaporRub on your chest too."

She what? "Ah… not necessary."

You fool! Say yes!

Shut up!

"Ah, there goes the flush. Let me bring the thermometer."

"No!" he whimpered… a manly whimper, mind you. "I'm ok, I swear." Oh, this was embarrassing. Oh and look, she was grinning at him. Little devil! "I… just pretend I'm not here."

"Pretend there is no fetching guy at my mercy. Now that's a challenge," mused Tea out loud, grinning as she saw the boy next to her flush a little bit more. "No, I think that won't do," she shook her head. "I have big plans with you."

He refused to be intimidated. "Like what?"

"Like watching TV for now. The rest will reveal itself in time."

"It's not going to be Pinky and the Brain, is it?"

"What's wrong with Pinky and the Brain?"

Spencer shut his eyes tightly as in pain. "Nothing, except after watching it the last time I automatically start to hum the intro song whenever someone calls me brainiac, genius or other nicknames."

"Catchy, huh? You will not get rid of it for the rest of your life. I won't get rid of it either. Hell, I will even teach it to my kids."

"Lucky them," the boy muttered sarcastically and barely caught the remote Tea tossed his way. She was already by the TV pulling it from the corner. "What do you want to watch?"

"Your pick. Just nothing too gruesome."

Spencer went ahead and checked a few channels before deciding on documentary on real mermaids. Tea settled not even a foot away from him and pulled the blue blanket over her, covering Spencer's legs in the process. He didn't object.

Half an hour into the documentary they both pretty much dozed off. Tea's head crashed on Spencer's shoulder while his hand somehow wandered down under the blanket in search for some warmth and ended up on Tea's thigh.

Somewhere in the middle of the night he woke up to the sound of applause. It was maybe for a minute; he didn't even remember it in the morning. He frowned at the sound of reprise of the Dr. Phill show. He shifted on his spot in search for the remote control, not realizing that something moved alongside with him. He reached for the device and turned off the TV, shutting off the only source of light in the room. He never noticed his surroundings. Not the room that was not his own, not the couch that was not his bed, not the girl pressed against his hip. He lay back down, frame stretched alongside the length of the couch, head on the cushioned arm, nose buried in long hair, right arm dead under some kind of weight that he couldn't specify more than soft and warm. That is how he fell back asleep six seconds later.

There was a whisper in Spencer's ear. Hot breath against his sensitive skin. He refused to act other that plain enjoy it. He felt a hand brush across his hair too. Maybe he even leaned into it, he couldn't really tell.

The voice in his ear got louder but not too much to startle him. He grunted in response, as kind of an acknowledgment that he was aware someone tried to talk to him. He didn't pay much attention to it, deeming in not important enough to abandon the comfortable arrangement he found himself in.

"…when… wake… work…"

Without understanding much of the question he murmured "six". Because whenever the word 'wake' was mentioned it would be accompanied by clock beeping at 6AM.

There was some muttering again despite his vehement try to shut it out.

"…away… errands… key… clothes," the voice pressed again so Spencer just nodded and it all stopped.

And then he knew nothing.

Except the alarm clock that woke him up hour and a half later.

He cracked his left eye open for the search of the extremely annoying sound. There, a round bright red alarm clock right in front of him on the coffee table.

He reached for it, slamming the little button on the top, and he was enveloped by silence once again. But he didn't go back to sleep, for he was busy staring at the alien object that he did not remember purchasing.

But he did remember the coffee table, and the walls, and the houseplants. And as he lifted his head, right side covered in pink lines and wrinkles, he realized he was alone. He sat up groggily, rubbing his eyes to wipe away the sleepiness.

It was rather dark in the room, the sun a few minutes shy from appearing in the far horizon. But he knew where the lamp was. He reached for it and his eyes shut in discomfort as the light blinded him. He grunted, silently, in case Tea was sleeping in her room. But that was not the case once he noticed a note near the alarm and read it.

"Good morning", it began with curly font he attributed to the owner of the apartment he woke up in.

"I had some errands to run. There is a fresh coffee in the machine. Toast is in the toaster, jam and butter are on the counter. I left your gun in the bathroom where you left it, but your clothes won't be ready until 8 alongside your shoes. I hope this was the only time when you decided to go completely insane and wear converse in the rain. I left you boots from my brother at the door. Spare key is on the table.

Wish you a good day and much luck in work.

Tea."

Spencer blinked a couple of times and his mind swirled with numerous thoughts, one more random than the other.

It was Friday, he realized with distaste. He had to go to work. With that he looked at the clock pointing at the quarter to six hour and came to his second thought.

What kind of lousy job it must be when one has to run errands before 6AM? He did not envy Tea, and he only now fully comprehended why she spends all Saturdays by sleeping.

She could easily kick him out, he realized as last. She could wake him and leave the apartment together. But she didn't. She trusted him enough to leave him alone in her home. Something stirred deep in his stomach and he did not know if it were the emotions or the hunger. He let it slide. Because analyzing things this early were not things analyzed correctly. That much he learned in the last couple of years.

As he waited for the coffee to fill the colorful mug he frowned as the last thought crossed his mind. For the life of him he couldn't figure out how it was possible for him to sleep while some other person was wandering around in the same room and prepared things. Was he really that tired that he didn't even wake up at the noise? Or was Tea that silent? Was he sick? No. Definitely not sick. He would notice that.

Than what was it? What was it that made his reflexes rest while there was other person in his vicinity?

The young agent grimaced as he caressed the mug (striped with orange, purple, black and green colors and big enough to hold 14 ounces of his life support in liquid form, that somehow became 'his' after he reached for it two visits in a row). He guessed he should feel the need to explore all the possibilities and circumstances, but he couldn't bring himself to care enough. Because he would be a fool to question the gifts given to him. No man ought to looke a gueuen hors in the mouth, as John Heywood would say.

Spencer took a sip of the fresh made coffee and accomplished to set a personal record of seven minutes and twelve seconds to occupy the bathroom, grab his gun, eat the toasts, find the shoes, finish the coffee and lock the door on his way out.

* I find myself unable to deny you anything – holy shit, is this grammatically correct? It has such a negation that I have trouble formulating it even in my own language.

FANART www . heavenlyartists . com(munalservicebitchlinkdoesntwork) /image/detail/74(remove spaces or simply go to my profile and there is a direct link)

On the other hand, have you seen the new episode of CM? I wanted to slam my head against the desk… No hate against JLH but the character she is playing is just… ugh. I don't know if I keep Blake or let her go but I'm not letting Kate (forgot the second name) in my story.

No idea when the next chapter comes up. I haven't started it yet.