Reid had left a few hours earlier than me from work, somehow finishing his own work with some of mine before I finished the three case files on my desk. He was maddening sometimes. I hung my bag next to his and looked around the dim apartment, searching for the man I needed to make something up to. Somehow.

I wandered through the apartment, looked in every room until I came to the end of the hallway and saw the flickering of a light under the bedroom door. I sighed. He was reading, most likely. The chances of him waiting naked on the bed for me were slim. I grasped the door handle and began to turn it when the barking came from the other side.

"Down, Clooney," I heard Spencer murmur, the gentle padding of feet on the carpet and the jingling of a collar. I tried to put on my best game face before the door opened, but I couldn't hold it for long when he came into view in his disheveled state, still in his work clothes, but his tie loose around his neck and his glasses—damn those glasses. "Hi."

"Are you still mad?" I wondered out loud, rubbing the back of my neck. I was just glad that my Spencer was back, but I didn't know for how long.

"Not now," he said slowly, "But I have a feeling I will be in a little bit."

I gave him a sad smile and looked down to Clooney, whose lip was turned up in a growl at me. I frowned in Spencer's direction. He just shrugged.

"I didn't do the irreversible version," he offered, following me to the bed as I flopped onto the mattress. "It'll just take you some time and a lot of wearing my clothes for him to trust you again. Much like me."

My head revolved on my neck and I gave him a helpless look, "I really don't know how to do this?"

"This?" Spencer asked. He looked at me for a long time, "… you don't know how to be in a relationship."

"Not like this..." I quickly scrambled to an upright position as his face fell, "No, no. I'm not... I'm not breaking up with you, I just need... I need you to tell me how to do this. I don't know what makes you feel better as opposed to worse."

"You can start by telling me what's making the back of your neck so itchy," he mumbled with a half-smile on his face, taking my wrist in his hand and dragging it away from behind my head.

"I need you to stay... when I say it," I turned my wrist over in his hand and gently grasped onto his palm. "I don't want you to get mad, and you have every right to, obviously, but get mad at me and stay here and talk me through it and try your best not to punch me, but I'd let you if you wanted to."

Spencer's hand fidgeted under mine until he finally held on, "If you're telling me about it, there's room for forgiveness."

I nodded slowly, "Well, um... I don't want to mess this up, and I'm worried that if I say it wrong you'll get really upset."

"Do you want me to guess?" He offered, raising his eyebrows. I shrugged and nodded, might as well let him try. "I think that you're hung up on the night in Chicago where I kind of skinned you bare. When you left, you went to Garcia's and you spoke to her, you realized that what I said was right, and she told you I called so you came back."

I opened my mouth to speak, but just let out a long exhale and laid back down on my back, keeping Spencer's hand in mine.

"I'm not mad. I was in Chicago, but more at myself than anything," Spencer settled himself beside me on his side. "I'm upset, understandably. But I can get over it."

"I don't want you to get over it," I murmured, "I want you to tell me what I should have done instead."

"You should have mentioned the rule against inter-team profiling, most likely. Snap me out of my work self before I try to focus on the relationship at hand," he sighed and rested his forehead against my neck, "I'm not good at this either, Derek."

"Let's be bad together, then." I glanced down at Clooney. He was still quietly baring his teeth at me. I sighed. "You can't make him like me again?"

"You can. By wearing my clothes, just like I had to in order to gain your dog's trust," Spencer smiled and pointed to the closet. "Start there. We can spend the night at my house if you'd like it to go faster. Then everyone will smell Spencer-y and it'll be fine."

"Good plan," I mumbled. "I like you wearing my clothes much more than the other way around."

"Think about that next time you lie, okay?" Spencer kissed my cheek before whispering in my ear, "I can make it so, so much worse." He leaned back and grinned, "Love you."

I groaned, "You're so mean."