I am so grateful to Hannah (grahamlecter) for Beta-reading my story and finding my mistakes so that I can fix them. These characters deserve the best, don't they? Thank you Hannah!

G-Girl

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Wednesday morning, there was nothing for the two of them to do except sleep in, spend some time together, eat, and start packing for their trip to Las Vegas. Later that afternoon, Susan had to teach her Belly Dance class.

She got out of bed, stretching. "I'm going to soak in the tub if you'd like to join me." Spencer smiled, watching her. He said he would join her in a minute.

While the tub was filling, Susan poured bath gel in, put some music on, and re-braided her hair, securing the end as she got into the tub, which was about half full of bubbles, by then. The water felt nice, and she relaxed, bubbles piling up over her body. Spencer walked in, wearing his flannel robe. He took two towels off the rack and set them on the vanity.

"Careful, I can't see your feet. I don't want to step on you."

Susan grinned and lifted both legs, setting her feet on one edge of the tub. "Better?"

Laughing, he hung up his robe and got in, sitting down across from her with his feet flat on the bottom of the tub; his knees stuck out of the water.

"I could swim over there… or you could join me on this side?"

"I'll come to you." She moved over and slowly slid back against him, between his thighs. It felt comfortable. It felt right.

He murmured, "Mmm, this is nice."

"Oh, but wait, there's more." She stretched out her leg, pushing a button with her toe. Hydromassage jets started up, making the water bubble, massaging various body parts. "This is nice, but it's even better with you." She slid her hands up the sides of his thighs, while his hands roamed slowly over her. Gently, she touched the scar above his left knee, tracing it with her fingertip.

"One of the places I've been shot." He told her about each one, then put his hand over hers and slid it under the water, to the small scar on his right thigh. "And this… is where I stabbed myself, while I was in prison."

"Stabbed yourself?"

Spencer spoke quietly, with his eyes closed. "Mm-hmm. I made it look like a fight with another inmate, so they'd put me in solitary confinement. Being a federal agent in prison was… dangerous."

"The things you've been through would break a lesser man."

"Well, you make me feel like a better man. I have to ask… what's with all the tiles on the walls in the basement?"

"The last couple of years, Lizette and I have taught a craft class at the center, showing the students, usually kids, how to transfer pictures or memes of quotes onto tiles, then hot glue ribbons or picture hangers. It's the weekend after Thanksgiving, so I'm sure the parents got tiles, as holiday gifts. We may do that again this year; the classes are very popular. I've gotten good at it."

With his eyes still closed, his hands wandered slowly. "Mm-hmm, I can tell. So, you like quotes?"

She gasped and shuddered. "Umm… quite a few. Some about dancing, several by Joseph Campbell, like the one about following your bliss, another about having the life that's waiting for us, and the one 'When you feel yourself falling, dive."

Spencer opened his eyes and smiled, remembering the dream he had. He kissed the back of her head. "I like that one."

"Hmm, another one… but I don't remember where I read it, or who said it. 'I don't do anything half-assed… but I'm learning to change gears and do things half-slow." She looked up, grinning.

Spencer quietly chuckled at the play on words. "Got it." He felt… good, relaxed yet invigorated, and he closed his eyes again.

"Another one I like is, 'Family is where life begins and love never ends.' Um, let's see, there's another one. 'To love is nothing. To be loved is something. But to love and be loved, that's everything.' That one makes me smile." Oh, and one by Thomas Merton." Spencer opened his eyes as Susan continued, "Another of my favorites. 'The beginning of love is to let those we love be perfectly themselves, and not to twist them to fit our own image. Otherwise, we love only the reflection of ourselves we find in them.' I would never ask you to change who you are, to please me. I know why falling in love with you felt so right."

"Why is that?" He enjoyed the way her body reacted to his touch; even more so how his body reacted to hers.

Susan continued, "Mmm. When I saw you in my classroom, I recognized you from that lecture. Since 2006 I wanted to see Dr. Reid again, to find out if I'd still feel that electric sensation, being around him. But I always pictured that Dr. Reid, whenever Dave talked about Spencer Reid, for the past ten years, for… frame of reference, I guess. I was… thrilled. No… it was more than that. I felt like I already knew you and the universe had finally brought us together again. This is why we had to be the people we were meant to be when we finally got together. You can't rush the workings of the universe, you know." She turned her head and looked up, smiling.

"Mm-hmm" He nodded, pressing his lips together while sliding his fingertips slowly up the front of her thighs.

"Normally, I don't talk about myself that much, but I didn't want you to leave, so I told you everything I could think of, hoping you'd find me interesting enough to want to spend more time with me."

Spencer slid his hands further up, covering her breasts as he kissed her ear, and whispered, "Are you sure it wasn't surging chemicals in your brain?"

Susan shuddered and gasped. "Oh, you."

He laughed, nuzzling her neck. "I found you fascinating, charming, and incredibly sexy. Of course, I wanted to spend more time with you. Hmm. What about love being our true destiny?"

"Thomas Merton, right? Yeah, I like that one, too. I'll be happy to find the meaning of life, with you" Susan closed her eyes, and her head dropped back against him as she let out a soft moan. She had trouble focusing on anything other than his hand between her legs. "I was gonna get out of the tub, but not if you're going to do that." She shuddered and after another moment turned around, holding the edge of the tub, her knees hugging his hips. She held the back of his head and kissed him slowly, deeply.

"Don't you ever get tired?" He ran his fingers down her back, down further, spreading his hands out over her luscious bottom.

Susan feigned a look of shock. "Of this? Of you? Never." She reached behind her and slid her hands to the back of his knees, beckoning him to lift them back up, and he put his feet flat on the bottom of the tub. Spencer traced his fingertip down along her nose, across her lips, then down to her chin, down her throat, down further, tracing the curves of her breasts; the bubbles had disappeared by that time. He pulled her close, kissing her harder.

Sex in a nearly full bathtub is never a good idea since the water tends to slosh over the sides. Susan giggled, and that made Spencer laugh; she was so sexy and yet so… adorable. He held her, kissed her gently, slowing their pace until the water calmed.

Leaning back against Spencer's thighs, she turned the knob near the other end of the tub, and when enough water drained out; they resumed their amorous activity…

He grabbed the two towels, giving Susan one, as the tub finished draining, wrapping the other around himself. She offered to make breakfast, and he told her he wanted to help.

Susan got to the kitchen first. But since she was only wearing a camisole top and a pair of panties, Spencer wasn't surprised. Amused, definitely; aroused, constantly, but not surprised.

She had started the coffee, then started getting stuff out of the refrigerator, dumping pre-cooked sausages into a skillet, and set the lid on it, turning it on low on the back burner. He chuckled, seeing her shimmying in the kitchen, singing along to a song in Spanish. Susan told him it was from Fools Rush In a movie set in Las Vegas.

"We could watch it, later. I like your… uh… outfit."

"Thanks. I'm only wearing this because hot grease hurts bare skin and stains clothes. Would you cut these up for me please, Love?" She handed him a bell pepper and a couple of mushrooms, gesturing to the knife on the cutting board.

"Sure. What's the name of the song?"

"Mi Tierra, by Gloria Estefan."

Spencer was cutting the other vegetables, as Susan chopped half an onion while the sauté pan heated up. Dancing, she cut a pat of butter and tossed it in the pan, to melt; then, after the butter started to turn a light brown, she slid the chopped onion in. As she rinsed her hands, she picked up a metal bar, from the soap dish behind the sink, sliding it over her palms.

Spencer arched his eyebrows. "Stainless steel?"

"Mm-hmm. It helps take the onion smell off my hands." She dried her hands and went back to the stove.

He absently gestured with his hands. "The molecules in the steel bind with the sulfur molecules on your hands, transferring the… but… you already know that... " He noticed the look on her face; she was actively listening, not rolling her eyes or interrupting him with a snarky comment. Since she understood the subject, he didn't feel the need to impress her with his knowledge.

"Mm-hmm. I figured you'd know. It's funny; I like the smell of onions, just not on my hands. Okay, so what do you do when no one laughs at your chemistry jokes?" Spencer shrugged, and Susan continued, "Keep telling them… until you get a reaction."

He chuckled. "I thought you were asking a question, not telling a joke. That was funny." He finished chopping. "What's next?" What he wanted was more of her.

"Eggs. Can you get… three out, please?" Susan got out a small mixing bowl, and Spencer handed her the eggs. Deftly, she cracked the eggs into the bowl with one hand, opened the cupboard with a tilt-out trash bin, and tossed the eggshells into it.

"This one goes into the compost spinner in the greenhouse. The one on the other side of the sink is for trash."

He handed her a whisk and leaned down to kiss her. Susan slid one hand on his back, holding him close for a moment longer, returning the kiss. "Mmm. Your lips are delicious." She turned around, holding the bowl, whisking the eggs, and he stood behind her with his arms around her waist, kissing the back of her neck.

Susan shuddered. "Oh, isn't it wonderful when your brain turns off, and you do whatever feels good?" She stopped whisking for a moment, closed her eyes, and sighed softly.

"Mm-hmm." He was listening, but kissing her felt too good to stop. But then, he didn't want to stop.

"For me, it's like dancing. I don't think about steps; I let the music move me; whatever feels good." She went over to the stove, tossed in the bell peppers and mushrooms, and then shook the skillet to turn the sausages. "Love, could you get plates out?"

Spencer got two out, then forks and napkins, setting everything on the counter, then slid his hands around her waist again, feeling her bare skin under the hem of her top while kissing her neck. She stirred the bell peppers and mushrooms, adding in the whisked eggs, and turned her head. "Are we going to eat like this, too? I'm not complaining, just wondering."

He chuckled softly, kissing her ear. "That might be fun."

"Well, for my next trick, I'll need both hands and a foot of space to flip this omelet, Lover; otherwise, you'll be eating it off my chest. Just remember I'll be screaming because it's freaking hot."

Laughing, he let her go, leaning against the counter next to her, holding his hands together. She slid the spatula around the edge of the omelet, flipped it to set the top of the egg mixture, flipped it again, sprinkled cheese on it, and folded one side over.

"Ba-bam." Susan cut it, slid the omelet halves onto the plates, then transferred the sausages over. "You want a shake with that?" Spencer murmured, pouring coffee into a mug. She waited until he set it down, then turned, facing away, and did a few hip shimmies, making him laugh. "Now, I'll make the shakes."

She made two and set them down on the counter. They ate breakfast while they talked.

"This is delicious, thank you. Okay. I have to ask about your junk drawer. I understand everything in it, except the plastic tabs. Those are from bread loaf bags, right?"

"Right. I use them on electronic cords, with whichever component it is, written in marker. About a year ago, we had a computer class at the center. The guy Darby hired to teach it never showed up, so I rescheduled a meeting with Stan and stepped in. One thing I told the students was to use plastic tabs to organize. It helps, especially when you have six or seven cords on a surge strip and only have to unplug one."

"Makes sense. Oh, and I have a confession to make. I'm still new at… all this. Things like terms of endearment, for example, but calling you Susan all the time doesn't convey an appropriate sense of intimacy. You don't seem like Baby or Baby Girl like Morgan calls Garcia. Maybe Honey or Sweetheart? Those seem more you… and you are sweet. Phil calls you Sooz, while Dave, Hotch, and Marsha call you Suzie. No one ever calls you Sue?"

She wrinkled up her nose and shook her head. "Nope, too… litigious." She noticed his puzzled expression and smiled. "Four generations of lawyers in my family, Love."

He chuckled and took another sip of coffee.

"And there are foreign terms, too, like Mi Corazon, Caro Mio, or Mi Amor." Susan took a sip of her shake. "Personally, I like Caro Mio. Italian and French languages are so full of passion. Call me whatever feels right to you, as long as it's not another woman's name." She smiled, leaned in, standing between his thighs, and whispered low in his ear, "Caro Mio." She kissed his neck softly. "Caro Mio, I need to pack for our trip."

He grinned, holding her close. "Later, Sweetheart… I need more of this..."

/

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A/N

(Coming soon, past character cameos, the trip to Las Vegas and... more)

The road to love is never as smooth as it may seem. Caution; bumps in the road ahead...

Stay "tuned" and thank you for taking the time to read this. I hope you all enjoy it.

I'd like to hear from you. Reading your comments makes me feel good, knowing how much you enjoy reading the story. I also like hearing constructive critiques. That's how I learn to be a better writer.