(Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or its characters)

Thanks to Jaeden1112, Yeegaber, Caroliny Hotchner, damthing, SamReid, and fishtrek for reviewing the last chapter.

I think it's time for some new faces...

Enjoy

Dave helped Spencer out of the car and the young man felt like melting into his father's side as he did when he was a child. He just wanted to wrap his arm around him and pull himself close to his father's warmth. He was tired and miserable and anxious about meeting Charity who sounded as charming as a hooker.

"Dad," he mumbled, holding onto Dave to keep himself upright. Dave shut the car door and quickly put his arm around his son who was wobbling on his feet.

"Woah, Bambino, Easy. I can't carry you in, c'mon."

Despite the threat Dave would have lifted his son and carried him inside if he had to, his knees be damned. In fact, as he looked over his tired son he was preparing himself to bare his weight.

Spencer groaned but started to shuffle his feet closer to the house with the aid of his dad's warm arm.

"Can't I just go to bed," Spencer asked, looking up pathetically at Dave, trying to convey that the last thing he wanted was to meet Charity.

"Do you feel that bad?"

Spencer paused when his dad stopped to look him over, concern written in his wrinkled brow. He hated lying and almost more than that, he hated admitting how he felt. It was true that he felt like crap but it wasn't so bad that he would go right along to bed.

With a sigh Spencer muttered a quiet "no."

"Good. You can stay on the couch and if you get tired of the conversation you can go to bed. Just meet her at least and say 'hi.'"

"Where is she?" Spencer muttered, wetting his lips as he glanced at the convertible Mercedes parked ahead of their car.

Dave looked over at the door. "Inside," he said

"You gave her a key!?"

Dave shrugged and smiled, his cheeks growing red. He guided Spencer up the porch to the from door. Spencer shook his head at him. "I don't believe it."

They stood at the front door, Spencer still in disbelief when the door opened and a thin woman with voluminous blonde hair stepped out. "Believe it, honey," she said in answer to Spencer's pervious question. Spencer wondered if the woman had been stood with her ear pressed to the door.

Charity smiled at Spencer before turning her head to Dave and leaning forward to kiss him. "Hey baby."

The door opened some more and another woman, slightly younger stepped out onto the porch. Spencer's eyes widened and he glanced at his dad who looked just as shocked.

"Who-"

"Brandy," Charity said with a grin directed at Dave. she turned it on Spencer, but it twisted a little as if she were really forcing it. "My daughter," she added.

Spencer's mouth dropped open but he didn't say anything. He really wanted to go to bed now.

Dave helped settle his son on the couch, unable to stop himself from glancing to Brandy every so often.

The woman didn't look much like her mother though, with all the work Charity had done Dave wasn't surprised the family resemblance had been lost. Brandy was much older than Spencer. Dave guessed she was nearing forty. Her hair was a medium brown, falling just past her shoulders, straitened and frazzled at the ends.

Her face was narrow like her mothers and her nose was small, most likely the work of a skilled surgeon. Her skin was also tighter than it should be for her age. She wasn't as skinny as her mother, but her breasts weren't so large and her figure was more natural than her mothers. As for her fashion sense, she most definitely followed her mother's stride. She wore tight purple pants and a low cut white top, and purple jacket.

Spencer couldn't help looking at the monstrosities his father allowed into his home. He held his tongue as the women giggled amongst each other.

Dave stood up, stepping away from Spencer and he clapped his hands together.

"Ladies," he said, smiling broadly when they looked his way. "Can I offer you both a drink? Coffee? Tea?"

"Brandy," Spencer muttered quietly to himself, snorting at his own joke.

"Coffee sounds wonderful, baby!"

Charity grabbed onto Dave's arm as he walked to the kitchen. Spencer looked over his shoulder to see Brandy staring back at him, her eyes narrowed.

Spencer looked away quickly.

"You can look," Brandy said and she slipped off her stool to move closer.

"Um... no thanks..." Spencer could hear her heels clicking on the floor, becoming muffled by the carpet that signified a break from the bar to the lounge.

He jumped when Brandy slid onto the couch beside him. He moved away from her, wincing as his shoulder budged the back cushion. His gaze flitted nervously to her and he saw the flirtatious smile skirting her lips. Spencer swallowed thickly and looked down at his sling, his fingers clasping around it.

"I saw the way you looked before," Brandy said and she smirked, pushing her hair off her shoulder so it fell down her back. "It's cute..."

"Our parents are dating... I don't think what you're implying is appropriate," Spencer said, avoiding looking at Brandy who was slowly crossing her legs.

"That practically makes us siblings," Brandy said. "Similar ages too!"

Spencer scoffed but quickly coughed to hide it. He didn't hide it well enough since Brandy glared at him. It seemed 'friendly' was off the table now."

Spencer turned, licking his lips as he met Brandy's angry eyes. "I'm twenty-four," he said. "My dad was much older than most parents when I was born. The probability that your mum had you at the same time is slim. I'd guess you're thirty-six from the way you hold yourself. Also, purple is a colour worn more comfortably by those past the age of wearing more vibrant tones and..." Spencer paused, seeing the way Brandy's face began to screw up. "Uh... sorry," he muttered, looking away again.

"I'm sure your daddy would love to know that you've been looking at me," Brandy hissed. Spencer glanced up at her quickly before looking back down. Her face didn't contort in the same way, her skin seemed to tight, but her eyes were filled with the hatred her face couldn't entirely portray.

"He was looking at you too," Spencer said, not really thinking about what he was saying. "You're hard to miss."

Brandy's eyes widened for a moment before her glare deepened. Spencer's eyes also bulged open.

"Oh... that's not... sorry, that's not what I meant to say."

"Urgh, you're gross," Brandy said, gritting her teeth together in disgust as she looked over him. "You sit there looking like that, insulting me!"

"Uh... sorry... I only meant-"

"You look at me again, little freak, and I'll finish you."

Spencer closed his mouth, staring back at Brandy with wide eyes.

"I-I wasn't looking-"

"Little perv," Brandy hissed, standing up and adjusting her pants. Spencer looked away so he didn't see the way Brandy's eyes roved over him before she stormed away, he was just thankful she wasn't near him anymore.

Spencer didn't know what to say. Part of him wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the accusation. He had no interest in women, and even if he did, he wouldn't find Brandy attractive. But Spencer wasn't as confident as Morgan or Emily, so his response was to duck his head low in embarrassment and wish for his bed.

Spencer sat nervously for fifteen minutes before Charity came into the room, followed my his father and Brandy. Spencer looked down quickly, expecting to be reprimanded by the three of them. Instead Charity walked past him and picked up her bag from the other couch. She glanced down at him as she did so.

"Hey, kiddo, I'm taking Charity and Brandy out for lunch. Do you want to come or would you rather-"

"Stay here? Yes," Spencer said quickly, sighing the words out. Dave smiled and nodded and walked across the room to pull a blanket from the back of the chair.

"Maybe get some sleep," he said as he handed over the blanket. Spencer nodded slowly, his eyes fixed behind Dave to where Brandy was watching him, a smirk on her lips.

Spencer watched father leave, grimacing at the way he put his hand around Charity's waist. He hated them. He wished he was still a child and that he could get between them, hugging and holding his dad away from Charity's manicured claws. He'd done it with another blonde his dad had tried to date. Spencer had been six and had worked his way into his dad's bed, between the two of them.

She only stayed another week in which Spencer displayed as much clinginess as he could muster.

Unfortunately, he was too old for that now.

Spencer sighed and he turned on the TV, hoping to find a documentary to watch.

He fell asleep during a crucial scene about virus control. When he woke up it was to loud giggling from two women too old to be keeping their voices so high.

Spencer sat up slowly, wincing as he tried to keep his arm still in the sling. He kicked away the blanket draped over him and yawned. The door slammed shut and the high voices came closer.

Dotty padded over to Spencer after stretching out in her bed. She put her snout on the cushions, her big wet eyes looking up at Spencer who reached out and scratched her her nose. Her gaze tilted to the door where the ladies were coming in and she hopped up onto the couch and pressed herself against Spencer as much as a Labrador could.

"I know," Spencer whispered, ducking in an attempt to remain unseen by Charity and Brandy. "What is dad thinking?"

Dotty nuzzled her snout into Spencer's lap, trying to hide from the loud cackles.

"Son, are you okay?"

Spencer raised his head. His dad was stood behind the couch, looking over him critically. Spencer patted Dotty's head and tried to smile.

"Fine."

"Dave, should we open another bottle?"

Dave glanced toward the kitchen before looking back at his son with a pained smile.

"Sorry, they wanted a drink," he said, his whole expression falling into one of apology which Spencer waved off.

"That's okay, I was going to go to bed anyway," he said, shifting to the edge of the couch, much to Dotty's dismay.

Dave nodded and offered Spencer a hand to get off the couch. "Good idea. There's fresh sheets on your bed. I'll wake you up for dinner."

"Thanks but I'm not really hungry," Spencer said as he heaved himself up. "I'd rather sleep."

"There's still a few hours and it wasn't negotiable."

Spencer looked up at his father, hoping to convey a look that said 'I'm not a child' or 'you're not in charge anymore,' but he wilted under the stern gaze of his father which could only be read as 'do as you're told.'

Dotty looked up woefully at Spencer and she craned her head forward, trying to sniff at his hand.

"Do you need a hand?"

Spencer shook his head and started to shuffle to the door.

"Do you need any painkillers? You're supposed to take your antibiotics soon."

"At dinner," Spencer mumbled and his dad grinned.

"Ah, so you do need food. Painkiller?"

Spencer rolled his eyes at his father but after a moments hesitation in which his shoulder burned, he nodded.

"Good," Dave said, putting his hand on Spencer's other shoulder and keeping him in place. "Wait here and I'll grab you some."

Dave squeezed past Spencer and down to the bathroom. Spencer glanced toward the kitchen where he could hear Charity laugh loudly and so suddenly that Dotty ran from the lounge and down the hall.

Spencer was about to follow the dog, opting to wait in his room when Brandy walked out of the kitchen, a full glass of wine in her hand.

Spencer noticed, rather uncomfortably, the way her eyes roamed over his body for the few silent seconds before she opened her mouth, her smile sly.

"Your dad treated us to a lovely meal," she said, folding her arms, holding her glass high up and swirling it.

Spencer nodded, glancing down the hall and hoping his dad would be out any second.

"Pity you weren't there."

"I wasn't feeling up to it," Spencer said, shrugging and regretting it when his shoulder burned in response.

Charity stepped out of the kitchen, her smile falling for a moment before returning as she laid her hand on Brandy's shoulder.

"Hello, Spencer," she said, her lips pinching together in a smile.

Spencer glanced from the hall to her and he offered a closed-lip smile.

"Hi," he said, looking back down the hall awkwardly.

"Oh... aren't you staying with us?"

Spencer looked back at Charity. He didn't like the way she looked at him, her smile seemed cruel and belittling and Spencer felt himself shrink under her gaze.

"I'm going to bed," Spencer muttered, thankful to see his dad coming out of the bathroom.

Charity snorted out a laugh. "Bed!?" Brandy snickered and Spencer glanced their way, just to confirm they were two women in late stages of adulthood and supposedly maturity.

"Why on earth are you going to bed?"

"Because I'm tired," Spencer said and he smiled at his father who came into the entrance hall and handed him two pills and a glass of water.

Spencer took them quickly, trying to ignore Charity and Brandy's judgemental gazes.

"Where are you sleeping?" Brandy asked, taking a long sip of her wine as Spencer swallowed the second pill.

He scowled. "My room," he said, looking at Brandy with a confused look on his face.

"Which is that?"

"Next to mine," Dave said. He too was frowning.

"Oh, that's the one I chose."

Dave and Spencer turned to look at Brandy who was stood with a look of sheer self-importance.

"It's my bedroom," Spencer said.

"Is it?" Charity asked. She glanced at Dave in exasperation as if this was an adult conversation that Spencer was not allowed to be involved in. "Has he not moved out, David?"

"Of course I have. It's still my room. Dad has four guest bedrooms."

Charity shifted her stance, she didn't look at Spencer, looking at Dave instead, waiting for him to reign Spencer in.

"I have asthma," Brandy said, placing a hand over her chest and breathing in shakily. "Sorry, I really do need a big room."

Spencer sighed, glancing at his father who, to his surprise, had narrowed his eyes.

"If it's such a problem I'd suggest you go back home. Spencer was shot and has a fractured collarbone. He will be most comfortable in his own room. The guest rooms are big enough, I don't live in squalor here, but if it's going to be a problem I think you'd do better at home."

Spencer wanted to leap forward and hug his father but he settled for a bright smile, his shoulder throbbing too much to hug.

Brandy stared at Dave with wide eyes and she glanced back at her mother who was frowning.

"David, baby, surely my Brandy's terminal condition outweighs your-"

"Spencer's room is only marginally bigger than the guests rooms. It's his room and it's not up for debate," Dave said and he ignored the glares of the two women to look at his son. "Why don't you go to bed, kiddo." He patted his good shoulder. "I'll sort everything out."

Dave winked and Spencer smiled back at him, hurrying to his room before Brandy could call him out again. He shut his door quickly behind him and, against his better judgement he locked it. He didn't want Brandy creeping into his room to accuse him of anything else.

He just wanted to go to sleep.

Thanks for reading... wait... you hate Brandy? Omg! Same! I made her and I really really hate her

Hope you enjoyed, leave a review to let me know your thoughts and I'll see you soon. Stay safe.