Five months later
"You're holding it wrong."
"You're laughing at me."
"I'm trying not to," Anthea snickered and took a bite from her own plate before picking up another piece of chicken with her chopsticks and offering it to Spencer. He opened his mouth obligingly, but the frown on his face gave away how he was really feeling.
"You said you were a good teacher," he said sulkily, picking up a fork and pushing his food around his plate.
"My boyfriend, the super-genius FBI profiler with numerous PhDs, doesn't know how to use chopsticks," Anthea took another bite to stop herself from laughing. "That statement doesn't sound true until you see it in action."
Spencer groaned and leaned back against the back of the sofa. "Just because I'm an FBI agent doesn't mean I know how to use chopsticks."
"I meant the boyfriend part."
"Oh," he blinked. "That's true. I'm still waiting for you to run away."
"Right back atcha."
Spencer rolled his eyes. They had gone over it a hundred times, and every time they arrived at the same conclusion – they cared about each other too much to not do anything about the electricity buzzing in the room every time they were together, but he had been very clear when he had said it would be whatever she wanted. If it got to be too much, she had an out. Every time he said it, she glared at him and he would have to coax her to speak to him again.
This time, she seemed to be in a better mood and let his comment slide. They ate in silence, and Anthea was picking up dishes and taking them to the sink when Spencer's phone started ringing from the kitchen. She bit her lip, and he offered her a wan smile before getting up to go answer it. He came back less than a minute later.
"I have to go," he said apologetically.
Anthea sighed. "Where to this time?"
"Not sure," he picked up his things from where they lay scattered around her living-room: shoes, scarf, coat. He left the book he had bought a few days ago, a new edition of War and Peace to facilitate Anthea's current obsession with Russian literature, and shook his head when she tried to hand it to him. "You can keep it until I get back."
She shook her head. "I don't know how long that'll be."
"It won't be long," he took the book from her and replaced it on the coffee table, tugging on her hand gently to help her up. Anthea gave him a small smile and accepted the hug he offered, burying her face against his sweater and sighing deeply.
"Not long?" she confirmed, looking up at him with the tell-tale worry in her eyes that had become a staple now.
Spencer kissed her forehead. "Not long," he assured her. "I should get going, though. The office is further away from here than it is from my apartment."
"And you don't want them knowing that you weren't home."
Spencer froze. Anthea looked up at him curiously, and his eyes were wary. "That's not true," his tone was completely unconvincing.
Anthea snorted. "Spencer, I don't mind that your friends don't know about me. We've been together for one month, you're allowed to tell them at your own pace."
"I –"
"Please tell me this isn't a part of your whole I'm not a normal guy so I can't have a normal relationship thing," Anthea rolled her eyes and pushed him towards the door. "Go and save lives, Spencer. I'll still be here when you come back, probably twenty dollars poorer since there's a book fair tomorrow, but otherwise mostly undamaged."
Spencer sighed. "I'll call you when I get time."
"A simple text will do if you don't get time," said Anthea. She kissed his cheek again, and let out a deep breath. "Okay, I'm ready. You can go be a hero now."
Spencer chuckled.
!
"Do you have to go?"
"I should go."
"No, but do you have to?"
Spencer smiled into the phone. "It's only been a few days."
"Five days."
"I've been on two cases that lasted longer than that since we started dating," he reminded her, sinking down onto the bed. Anthea huffed, he could practically hear her frowning through the phone. The first five days of the case had gone by without anything to report, and it was making him anxious. But he wasn't worried about the case. Well, he was, but for once he had something else to worry about now. Anthea was incredibly patient, but he had detected the slight angst in her voice when he called her before going to sleep.
"Both local, we had breakfast every day all through those weeks," she pointed out.
"It's just five days, Anthea."
"Its five days too long, Spencer," she shot back.
Spencer sighed. "It won't take much longer. We're just waiting for all this information to make sense."
Anthea hummed in response, but she wasn't happy, he could tell. It was odd. He had never realized how dependent they had become on each other in one month until he had landed in New York. They saw each other every day, even if it was just for a cup of coffee in the morning before she had to study and he had to work, but it was enough. He spent half his free time at her apartment, and he was sure she had left her spare umbrella in his hall closet some time ago. Not seeing her every day was weird.
They hung up soon after, and Spencer hoped they could be done within a few days, so he could make it up to her. He had no idea how he was supposed to do that, of course. He didn't understand the use of grand, romantic gestures, and he had zero experience with them. Anthea wasn't the type to find those kinds of things appealing anyway. She'd probably want to sit and talk or read for an evening. Still, he decided to take the weekend off to figure out how to combat her sudden bad mood.
!
"You bought me a book?" Anthea sounded amused and touched as she picked up the canvas bag lying on her coffee table.
Spencer resisted the urge to blush. "I didn't know what else to get you," he admitted sheepishly. "If you don't want it –" he immediately stopped talking when her eyes shot up to meet his, a frown on her face.
"Of course I want it," she scolded him as she picked up the book, still in its bag, and sat down next to him on the couch. She offered him the coffee he didn't remember asking for and he took it mutely, a warm feeling settling in the pit of his stomach when he saw the way she was cradling the bag, as if it contained something valuable. "I just don't know why you got it for me. Did I forget some sort of anniversary?" she was teasing, but she sounded unsure.
Spencer shook his head. "I just wanted to," was all he said, but inwardly he was glad. Clearly, she wasn't upset anymore.
"Well, that's very sweet of you," Anthea rested her head against his shoulder idly, and Spencer was proud that he didn't flinch. In fact, he drew an arm around her almost without thinking about it, and from the corner of her eye he saw her smile. "Should I see what it is now?"
"Go on."
She slipped a hand inside and brought out the book, her eyes widening when she read the cover. "Oh, Spencer, you didn't," she whispered, touching the worn leather lovingly.
"You said you used to love it so I did some research," he admitted. She still hadn't looked up, so he started rambling. "I couldn't find the first edition, but this is early twentieth century. I've been told the first editions looked exactly like this, which could either be a sales tactic or just a really weird publishing trick back in the day, but I'm inclined to believe the latter because –" Anthea squeezed his hand gently, her eyes still glued to the book but her actions indicated that he didn't need to defend himself. Spencer sighed and rested his cheek against the top of her head, her hair tickling his chin. "Do you like it?"
"You found a second edition of Just So Stories," she murmured, opening the book carefully and staring at the title page. "I told you I used to read them as a kid the first day I met you and I lost my copy when I moved. You remember that?"
Spencer didn't feel the need to remind her of his eidetic memory. "So you like it," he said, the relief evident in his voice.
"I absolutely love it. This is honestly the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me," she turned to face him, a brilliant smile on her face that made him feel warm inside. "Thank you, Spencer."
Spencer shook his head. "I wanted to give you something, you don't have to thank me."
"You didn't need to go through so much trouble to get me a rare edition though," she persisted.
"I wanted to," he repeated.
As if sensing his uncomfortableness if she pushed the issue, Anthea let it go, only giving him another smile before curling up against his chest and opening the book. Spencer put his arms around her immediately, marvelling at her uncanny ability to know exactly what to say and how to say it around him. He was so used to people either taking offense at what he said or making him talk about things he didn't want to that Anthea's behaviour was comforting, even if he hadn't known her for too long.
"You know I'm adopted, right?"
Her sudden statement was a shock, to say the least. Spencer blinked. "What?"
"You've met Robbie, you know he's not my biological brother," Anthea angled her head up, catching his eye. She didn't look troubled, but her face was slightly reserved. "You knew, right?"
"I suspected," Spencer shrugged. He had suspected. The lack of physical similarities was one thing, but there were other factors to consider. It hadn't taken him long to figure it out.
His words seemed to confuse Anthea. "You suspected but you didn't know?" she frowned. "Didn't you run a background check on me or something?"
Spencer blinked. "Why would I do that?"
"I don't know," she shrugged and turned around in his arms so she was facing him. She looked curious. "My dad always did one for all of Robbie's girlfriends. I just assumed FBI guys did the same."
Spencer looked away awkwardly. "Well, Rossi knows your family, so I didn't really have to," he evaded.
Anthea narrowed her eyes. "You should have, you know."
"Don't normal people in relationships tell each other weird stuff about themselves eventually?" he asked, only half-joking.
"Spencer," she sighed. "We are normal people, your job just isn't normal."
"I know," he soothed. She hated discussing his aversion to their relationship, no matter how many times he said it wasn't about her, it was him.
Fortunately, she didn't argue with him this time. Almost absently, she reached out a hand and brushed his hair out of his eyes. Her fingers tangled around a lock casually, and she giggled at his confused look. "I like your hair long," she told him, tugging at it teasingly.
"I'll have to cut it eventually," he told her, his lips twitching at her pout.
"I should enjoy it while I can then," her tone was teasing and light as she inched closer, running her fingers through his hair slowly. The fact that she was close enough for him to examine every freckle on her face and make out the flecks of hazel in her dark eyes should have distracted him, but it didn't. At least, it didn't distract him fully. And then she tugged on his hair a little harder and before he knew it she was kissing him, her other hand fisting his shirt.
His mind went blissfully blank every time she kissed him, and this time was no exception. His brain decided to use a so-far untouched instinct and he wrapped his arms around her waist, tugging her forward until she was situated on his lap, his lips still attached to hers. Anthea's smiled into the kiss, and Spencer took it as a good sign, his movements becoming bolder as his hand cupped her cheek gently, stroking her smooth skin. The hum of appreciation emanating from her throat encouraged him, and he had just managed to release her hair from its messy bun when Zeus barked loudly and pounced on top of the couple, causing Anthea to gasp out a laugh and grab Spencer's shoulders to avoid falling off the sofa.
Zeus sat back on his hind legs, his tongue lolling out of his mouth in an expression that made it seem like he was laughing. Anthea was shaking her head. Spencer broke the silence. "That's one way to say thank you, I guess."
Anthea turned and stared at Spencer, her mouth open slightly at his statement, before succumbing to a fit of laughter. "My dog is worse than a chaperone," she managed to giggle out before burying her face into his chest, a tell-tale blush on her cheeks.
"We're locking him out next time," agreed Spencer. He rubbed her arm soothingly, making a face at Zeus when Anthea wasn't looking. "And the thank you wasn't needed, but appreciated."
"It was a thank you and a distraction tactic," sighed Anthea.
"Distraction?"
"Blame yourself, kissing you is the best distraction I've come up with to date."
Spencer frowned. As flattering as her words were, what did she need to be distracted from? What had they been talking – Oh. He blinked. "I figured out you were adopted without a background check," he began, cautiously. "Does it matter?"
"Not to me," Anthea shook her head. "I just figured you should know."
Spencer waited for her to continue, but she didn't, her face still buried in his neck. He stroked her hair gently. "We can talk about it, if you want."
His statement, phrased like an offer rather than a question, seemed to do the trick. Anthea took a deep breath. "Before the Graysons took me in, I was with in a foster home. It wasn't a bad place, but conditions weren't ideal. The Graysons adopted me formally after things went haywire a year after I was in the system. Robbie's been my guardian angel since then, I guess," she smiled fondly at the thought of her brother. "He bought me my first book. He said it was his favourite when he was my age. Which is stupid because we are literally three years apart, but it was Just So Stories, and I lost the copy he got me while moving, God only knows how, and I felt awful about it."
"So having a new copy makes you feel –"
"Don't profile me," her tone was stern, but not annoyed. "We are a normal couple and normal couples talk about their feelings, they don't rely on FBI training to help them analyse their relationship."
What she said wasn't amusing at all, but he still chuckled. "Deal."
Anthea smiled against his neck. "The two most important men in my life have given me the same book. It makes me feel pretty good, Dr. Reid."
"I'm glad."
"Can we get back to the thanking part again?"
"You mean the distracting?" asked Spencer, his eyebrows raised.
Anthea smirked. "Whichever works for you, Doctor."
