Chapter 53
Now Spencer merrily kissed the woman he planned to marry in all the right ticklish spots, while Laura laughed and tried to push him toward other places. Not that she tried all that hard but she tried. Eventually though she got him by the ears and tugged him up to her lips, to sweet kisses that turned warmer and then hotter with want. For a moment he forgot himself and honestly thought it was going to happen. He hadn't realized he wanted that much. But between those kisses Laura murmured, "No," even as she pressed her temple against his cheek. Not with anger, or fire, or heat but a regretful reminder that at this moment they couldn't.
"I know." He murmured back. The heat, the tease, would have to do for now. But when he pulled back he saw the old pain shadowing her eyes. "What's wrong?" He murmured, even though he knew. He'd learned after Emily, after Maeve, that even when you were finally past enough of it that you could get up on your back legs, as his mother used to say, the pain could still come back for a moment and burn off a layer over your heart.
She pressed into his cheek again, held him tight and fierce. When she pulled back she kissed him, gentle and soft. "We're alive." She murmured.
He kissed Laura one last time, dropped one last kiss on Maggie's soft head. It was time and they knew it. There was a child and both child and mother were healthy so his services were no longer needed. He knew from the look in her eyes that the Unsub was standing behind him. "We won't forget." Laura promised.
"I know." Spencer smiled. He'd had six thousand and forty-seven hours. Six thousand and forty-seven of the sweetest hours known to man. A lifetime could be lived in those six thousand and forty-seven hours. And now Maggie was alive in the world. He couldn't ask for more. "I love you." He murmured to his family one last time. And then he turned and faced the Unsub, who was standing there with his shotgun at the ready. He stepped over to the bars, carefully placing himself between the Unsub and Laura as best he could.
"Please." Laura said her voice full of tears.
"Shut up, sow." The Unsub growled. "Baby's early. Is it healthy?"
"As far as we can tell. She's breathing and nursing." Spencer took a deep breath. "Can we do this somewhere else?" He asked. He didn't want Laura to see.
The Unsub frowned. "Why?" He said. And then he raised the weapon to his shoulder and fired….
"We're alive." He murmured back. They had lived, and Maggie was safe. Now they could make every dream come true. That was worth kissing her again.
Of course that was when Laura's phone rang. But it made her smile. "Never thought I'd be happy to hear a phone ring." She said, holding him in place on top of her while she dug it out of her pants. Happy? Ah, it meant she was connected to something somewhere somehow. "Hello?" She paused. "This is she." Pause. "I don't even have my calendar set up but you guys are top priority right now." Pause. "Sure, Tuesday at 10:30 will work." Pause. "North entrance, got it." She nodded at Spencer, a nod he returned, yes, he would remember. "Great, thank you very much. Bye."
"Who was that?" He asked.
"The midwife's office. Apparently there is a big storm coming in and they are going to close on Friday because of it."
Which meant Tuesday. Which meant five days, not two. He dropped his head into her shoulder and gave a grumbling sort of sigh, when did this become such a big deal anyway? Oh, right, when they started doing it every night so he had the hormones going all the time… "I wonder if there's a 12-step for this sort of thing."
"There is but wanting your mate after childbirth is not a sign of addiction." She smiled. "I'm sorry."
"Not your fault at all." Just then there was a commotion downstairs, the dogs barking. "I should probably go see…"
"And I came up here to change out of my jeans." She replied. "I'm not far behind you." As he rolled off her and on to his feet she looked up at him with a mischievous smile. "I suppose I should save the matching panties for next week."
He whimpered slightly and headed downstairs.
The commotion turned out to be Morgan and Garcia. "I thought you were going to Chicago." Spencer said.
"I was. O'Hare is shut down for the weather. Now I'm not going anywhere." Morgan grumbled.
"JJ and Will are in Philly with her mother." Dave said from over where he was stirring something in a pot. "Hotch and Jack are down in Richmond with Haley's family, and Alex is already in New York with Stuart, he got to fly in from Haiti for the holiday. That leaves the four of us. I've got enough room and traveling is going to be a pain in the ass so I told them to stay. Better here than in a cold apartment if the power goes. Penelope, you get the other guest room, Morgan, you get the futon in the den; it's comfortable."
"Sounds like fun." Spencer said as Morgan gathered the bags to drop them in the right rooms. "Anything I can do to help?"
"With that arm?" Dave asked in reply.
"Anything I can do to help?" Laura asked, coming down behind him in more comfortable pants and a sweater.
"No, you can take it easy."
"You know, I could at least lift the weight of a baby." She pointed out.
"You don't know that. You haven't seen the doctor yet." Dave replied. "Besides, I've got Garcia here to help."
"I can at least sit here and clean and chop vegetables." She insisted.
Dave sighed. "All right, if you insist. But no lifting anything."
The afternoon progressed amiably into the evening. Work was done, stories were told, computers were set up and games were played. Finally over dessert Spencer asked. "So what are we doing tomorrow?"
"Sleeping in," Garcia announced.
"Count me in." Morgan said. "I'm not going running in that kind of snow."
"I don't have to get the turkey in before noon." Dave agreed.
"You don't watch the parade?" Spencer asked. The Thanksgiving parade in New York was legendary by now, he didn't have to specify.
"You still get up for that thing?" Garcia asked.
Spencer and Laura looked at each other. And there it was, the first true test of their determination to live exactly as they wanted. In the past he would have said no, of course not, don't be silly he was far too mature, just to not rock the boat, not appear different, and not make anyone feel like attacking the weirdo. But not anymore. Not anymore. "Yes, I do. Mom loves it, we watch it every year." Most years he tried to get out to Vegas for the holiday, but he wasn't traveling with Laura before she saw the doctor. They would make up for it with the wedding. "It's become a tradition."
"And Mom and I always watched it every year." Laura replied, a smile of gratitude in her eyes just for him. "I still do, I admit it."
"Fine," Dave said. "If you two want to get up that early you can start the slow-cooker at eight. But you get to cook, if you're up to it."
Spencer and Laura blinked at each other. It couldn't be that easy, could it?
As it turned out it could.
The next morning, while the snow started to gently fall and the house slept around them Spencer watched as Laura cooked for him for the first time. It was just eggs and ham and toast but it was all done to her exact standards and just for the two of them.
He'd dreamed of this.
He'd remembered coming home after school every day and having a grilled cheese sandwich waiting for him. Or milk and fresh cookies. Or dinner in the oven making the house smell divine. Back when he was that young his mother had had the time and energy and focus to cook and she cooked often and well for her little boy. It was a sign of how much she loved him. But then Dad left and she had to support them and it was so hard. It wasn't that she loved him any less she just didn't have the energy or focus any more. And with that loss of focus came a lot of pain. But he always remembered how she cooked for him, used to sit and read cookbooks of the kind of food that always meant love.
Now Laura was cooking for him, just for him, the kind of food that always meant love. This was right up there with a good conversation, or sex. And the food was amazing too.
Afterwards they took coffee and muffins into the family room to settle in and watch the parade. "Wait until you taste my muffins." She told him. "I make the first batch of pumpkin pecan muffins every year for Thanksgiving."
The bakery muffins were good and kept her from doing too much work. But still, "I can't wait." He said, lifting his arm so she could snuggle. "Do you have recipes for any other holiday?"
"You mean like cranberry orange walnut for Christmas? Or mocha chip for New Years?"
Oh god. "Yeah, like that."
"Yeah." He felt her smile. "Thank you for insisting on this."
"Can't skip our first family tradition." After all, they were alive to celebrate.
.
Note: Still down by a wing, but better. Give me a couple more days and then I ought to be back up to speed.
