Spencer was sitting in the bullpen sorting through paperwork when his personal cell phone rang. He knew it had to be Owen (it was either his or his mother's facility), and Spencer was itching to get his mind off of the Nathan Harris. Spencer had sent him a letter that morning, and it was ruining his concentration.

When Spencer locked himself in the bathroom to take Owen's phone call, he was greeted with screaming on the end.

"I'm a doctor, Spencer! I'm finally fucking done and I'm a doctor and I can finally stop crying about geodesic equations and computer simulations and everything else that's ruined me for the past 6 years!"

All Spencer could do was smile. He could hear the smile on Owen's face over the phone, and Spencer knew exactly what bottle of champagne Owen was going to pick up at the grocery store on his way home.

"Congrats!"

"Thanks! I can't believe I'm done with this Spencer- no more physics!"

"Well, don't you have to figure out what you're doing with your degree?"

"I don't think the future is important when I'm celebrating right now."

"Well, I guess that's true."

Spencer glanced around the bathroom, staring at the dirty tile floor.

"Can I talk you into flying down to celebrate?"

"Sure!"

Spencer's brain ran through all of his social events for the next few months- a limited amount of information to sort through. "Could you come down for the Super bowl? My team and I are going out that night."

"I can try!"

"Stay for the weekend? I'll take Monday off if you want."

"Sounds perfect. I'll see you then."

Spencer had the impulse to say that he loved Owen before he hung up, but the line went down before he had the chance.

Super Bowl Sunday terrified Owen- he had no idea how he was going to get drunk with federal agents willingly, let alone on a day celebrating an arbitrary holiday that he didn't care about, alongside his PhD.

"There's a very high chance that I'm going to throw a fit tonight."

Owen and Spencer were taking the train to this bar JJ had found, and Owen was convinced they were going to have an awful night.

"I just… I hate everything the Super Bowl stands for and I also hate everything the FBI stands for and it takes all of my moral integrity to justify spending time with you, so I don't know how I'm going to get through this."

"Then why'd you come down for this?"

"Because I wanted to see you."

Spencer could hear the words Owen wasn't ready to say. I was worried about you flooded his ears, outweighing the because I love you Owen would probably throw out instead.

Spencer rolled his eyes, putting his right hand on Owen's thigh. "I bought you two packs of those American Spirits you like. Just go out and take a smoke break every time you want to yell as somebody about everybody on the government payroll is a war criminal, even the one you're fucking." He laughed as he slid the cigarettes into Owen's lap.

"I forgot how well you know me."

Owen laughed as he peeled the plastic wrap off of one of the packs, shoving the other into the pocket of his jacket, and grabbed Spencer's hand in his own.

"The offer is contingent on one thing," Spencer offered, taking his eyes off the window to look at Owen. "And it's that we get to go outside together when you need a break."

Owen smiled at Spencer, shaking his head. "Oh? You're willing to risk your coworkers finding out you're a sexual being?"

"What can I say, I like kissing you when I'm drunk." Spencer laughed as the train pulled up to their stop. "And I'm very excited we both get to get drunk tonight."

The walk to the bar was quick, it was only two blocks west of the train station. Aaron and Haley were waiting outside as Owen and Spencer walked up, holding hands and shivering a little in the cold.

Owen's shoulders had released some of their tension by the time they met up with the rest of the BAU. The team there had been drinking for a bit before the couples had arrived, and Owen was a little on edge when he ordered his first drink of the night (a $3 PBR that he split with Spencer), but after the next two, he began to have a little fun. Although he was still turned off by the idea of fraternizing with the government, Owen did have a good time dancing with Penelope and Emily instead of watching the football game on all of the TVs.

It felt a bit like Boston- sweaty bars with bad music, dancing with friends of your friends, spilling cheap beer in plastic cups on yourself and the people you like. Spencer being a wallflower was new, and Owen didn't know if it was because Spencer was nervous about having fun in front of his colleagues or if Spencer had stopped enjoying going to bars with him. Owen pulled Spencer out back with him sometime in the second quarter to smoke a cigarette together after he saw Spencer staring into space as Aaron, Haley, and Emily talked around him.

"Are you having fun?" Spencer asked Owen as he lit up his cigarette outside.

"I guess."

Owen smiled as Spencer kissed him, open-mouthed and a little sloppy. Spencer liked this a lot more than he wanted to admit- the fact that Spencer and Owen had avoided labeling their relationship for the past 2 years made it that much more satisfying when Owen kissed him on the cheek in between drags on his cigarette.

"Are you?" Owen asked him, reaching out for Spencer's hand in the dark alleyway.

"I think I'm getting more into it. I just don't care that much about football."

"Then come dance with me!"

Owen threw his cigarette down on the ground, putting it out with his heel. In one fluid, half-drunk motion he pulled Spencer close to him, leading him in a messy version of a waltz in the alley. They were both drunk enough for the snow falling around them to not be a bother. Spencer and Owen twirled around the alley until the fire door opened back up, Emily, Penelope, and JJ sneaking out back to figure out what exactly Spencer was up to.

"I knew it! Em, you owe me TWO highballs!" Penelope shrieked.

Owen loved seeing Spencer turn his usual shade of red- starting in the tips of his ears and working its way into his face. He was more than happy to indulge Spencer's friends and to kiss his boyfriend in front of them, pulling him back inside the bar as the girls gossiped outside.

Still, all good things must come to an end. The football game was hardly over before JJ had to duck out on a phone call. Haley and Owen exchanged uneasy glances as the BAU's cell phones all went off, and Owen felt his heart sink.

Owen was planning on asking Spencer if he could move in with him once he graduated, but he was instantly reminded of why they broke up every time Spencer was called away on a job. He didn't know what to do about it anymore- was he compromising his personal integrity by still being in love with a class traitor who couldn't even stay with him throughout the whole 3-day weekend he was promised?

This was all relayed to Haley, who was more than happy to listen as she drove him home. It was a familiar story, one that had played on repeat in Haley's head ever since Jack had been born.

"You don't get to pick who you fall in love with, you know? And I don't know if 16-year-old me would've cared about how I feel now when she saw Aaron walk into that classroom."

"We do get to pick how we respond, though. And I don't know if I want to do this to myself again."

"Then don't. Spencer loves you, and he'll understand what you're doing if you do what's right for you."

Owen didn't realize they had been sitting outside Spencer's apartment building for a few minutes now, hazards flashing as they sat silently in the car.

Owen skipped the elevator, walking up 6 flights of stairs to Spencer's apartment. He still had a key, and he didn't bother to turn the lights on as he made his way to Spencer's bedroom. Owen fell asleep, fully clothed, lying on top of Spencer's made bed. He was gone by 10 a.m. the next day.

Spencer thought about Owen the entire flight to Georgia. He didn't know what had changed, but something had. It had been three years of this on-and-off casual, airline mile rack up of a relationship. It wasn't anywhere near what Spencer wanted from Owen, but it was all the two of them were probably capable of at this point.

It had been so long since Spencer and Owen had met that Spencer had a hard part separating himself from the parts of Owen he had picked up. Spencer couldn't drive without music playing, and he had a lot of opinions on computer programming languages that he couldn't make heads or tails of. Spencer could make just about any cocktail, even if they were nowhere near as good at the ones Owen made.

"Reid?"

Spencer snapped back to the present, looking at the jet full of his teammates as he remembered that they were on a case.

Owen was in his lab, helping some undergrads with their Differential Equations homework when he got a call from a blocked number. He declined the call, and it rang again immediately, so he excused himself quickly and walked into the hallway.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Owen? It's Penelope Garcia, I'm calling about Spencer."

"Is he okay?"

"Well, we… we don't know. He ran off after an unsub and we haven't been able to locate him. It looks like he's been abducted by the unsub."

Owen's stomach dropped as Penelope kept talking- the BAU was a very successful team in the field and they were working to get Spencer back. Owen wasn't thinking about not getting Spencer back alive, but he was terrified of how Spencer would get returned to him. Spencer had changed in the few short years he had been working for the FBI, braking him down a little every time he saw graphic crime scene photos or did a cognitive interview on a victim, and Owen knew that this was going to be awful for him.

Penelope said Owen shouldn't come out to Georgia until they recovered Spencer- they had no idea how he would come back to them, and there were some things Owen should stay home for.

"Ransom demands, other weird correspondence, Spencer reaching out to you" Penelope offered, her voice breaking as she spoke. "And I know it's hard, hearing this and knowing you have to stay put. But there is some part of being in the field that you don't need to know right now."

Owen stayed in his itty-bitty office in the lab for the rest of the day, working on mindless tasks to stay occupied until he absolutely had to go home. There was nothing he could do, really. His ex-boyfriend was being held hostage by some psycho killer in Georgia, he was still listed as Spencer's emergency contact (even though they had been broken up for almost 3 years at that point), and all Owen could do was get drunk and try to not think about whatever was happening to Spencer.

Owen woke up in a cold sweat at 2 pm the next day. He had no messages, no missed calls, and a half-full handle of gin in the freezer. It wasn't all that early to start drinking.

Halfway through the VHS tape of Spencer's favorite Dr. Who episodes, Owen's cell phone rang. He practically leapt over the couch to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Hi, it's Penelope. Again. I'm really sorry but we don't know anything else right now."

"Oh."

Owen felt his heart drop to his feet.

"I just wanted to see if you were okay. I can't imagine what you're going through right now and I just-"

"I'm fine. Compared to Spencer, at least. Maybe you should be more concerned with finding him than doing courtesy calls."

Owen hung up, snapping his cell phone shut and chucking it across the room. Perhaps not his smartest room, but he had been drunk since 3 pm and all he wanted was some relief.

When Owen's cell phone rang the next day, he could barely get himself out of bed to answer it. He was terrified of what would be on the other side.

It was good news- Spencer was alive, albeit very shaken up, and he would be back in DC by the next morning.

"We can book you a flight down if you want?"

"I'd rather drive."

All of the anxiety coursing through Owen's veins collapsed- leaving him feeling hollow and shaken. Owen didn't remember his drive down to DC by the time he got there, showing up at Spencer's apartment with his duffle bag slung over his shoulder and his car double-parked in front.

Owen didn't even have to knock before Spencer opened the door.

"Hey there, stranger."

Spencer wasn't anticipating getting tackled to the ground by Owen, although he probably should have. Spencer also wasn't anticipating crying in front of Owen again, but he couldn't stop the tears from falling. It felt a little silly- both of them crying in the entryway of his apartment with the door wide open. Maybe it was because Spencer was out of his mind high on Dilaudid, brain finally quiet, but he felt happy, even if he had just gotten released from the hospital an hour before.

Dazed, Spencer felt Owen getting up off of him. Spencer sat up as Owen mumbled something about moving his car, leaving Spencer sitting on the floor of his living room. Pushing himself up to his feet, Spencer grabbed Owen's forgotten duffle bag and carried it into his bedroom.

Spencer's apartment was a little messy and Spencer spent most of his time waiting for Owen to come back up shoving his stuff into drawers and under his bed. Owen came in silently, wrapping his arms around himself as he watched Spencer clean up.

"Do you want help?"

"Not really."

Spencer kicked a pair of shoes into his closet, tripping over his feet as he made his way towards Owen.

"I was so sure the next time I was going to see you was at your funeral." Owen said, trying to hold back his tears.

"But here we are."

"Here we are."

Spencer kissed Owen, pulling him backward and further into his bedroom. Owen kissed Spencer back, grabbing his lover's face and holding him close. Spencer backed up into his bed and pulled Owen down with him.

"I'm not going to have sex with you." Owen said, kissing the side of Spencer's face.

"Why?"

"Seems like a self-harm activity."

Owen moved to kiss Spencer again, and Spencer pushed him away.

"You don't get to do this, you know. Tell me what is and isn't healthy."

"Well, you're sure as shit not telling yourself."

"Don't think you have a PhD in Psychology."

Owen rolled over in bed, away from Spencer.

"I didn't come down here for this."

"Then what did you come down here for?"

"To make sure you're okay! To make sure that you aren't going to kill yourself, or do something equally impulsive and stupid."

Spencer bit his tongue. It took all of his willpower to not tell Owen that he had, in fact, done something impulsive and stupid, like shoot a high-powered opioid into his veins to stop his brain from playing the supercut of his recent traumas.

"I can tell you want to say something, Spencer." Owen said, staring at his boyfriend from across the bed.

"I did something stupid."

"Well, what did you do?"

Spencer's mind ran through the long list of every stupid thing he had done in the past 72 hours.

Go off into that cornfield without JJ, stealing the Dilaudid from Tobias Hankel's dead body, not changing Owen from his emergency contact (although Spencer didn't know who would replace him). Using the Dilaudid he had stolen, even though Spencer knew he had an addictive personality and the statistics on opioid abuse.

"I killed him."

"Who?"

"The man who was holding me hostage."

"That's not really stupid, Spencer." Owen's voice was softer now, eyebrows creasing his forehead. "You did what you had to do."

"I did my job."

"That right, babe. You did your job."

Spencer was crying now, hot tears streaking down his face. Owen didn't quite know what to do, but Spencer wiped his own face dry before Owen could.

"How long can you stay?"

"As long as you need me here."

"Promise?"

"Of course."