Eight months later

"Your Agent Rossi called my uncle yesterday."

Spencer froze, his cup of coffee halfway to his lips. Anthea pretended not to notice, he could tell, but she had clearly felt the hand that was slipped through hers stiffen. Still, she didn't comment and allowed him to collect his thoughts quietly, her eyes fixed on the painting in front of them. An artist recognized for making Renaissance-style paintings was doing an exhibition at Georgetown, and Spencer had allowed Anthea to drag him down there so she could exclaim over some of the pieces. They had perused relatively silently until now, and suddenly he found himself wishing for quiet again.

"He did?" though he tried – and failed – to sound casual, he was at least glad his voice didn't shake.

Anthea shot him an unreadable look. "He did," she confirmed. "Uncle Mike was wondering if I would go see him and drop off an old photo-album of his, he sent me loads of old pictures in the post a few months ago from his military days so I could get them edited and framed for him. Apparently, Agent Rossi is in quite a few of them."

Spencer nodded dumbly, his mind already working in overdrive. He wasn't ready for her to meet the team, not yet – he hadn't even told her he was in love with her yet! The doubts were all gone by now, but the way to tell her mattered to him more than he had realized. While he didn't think it could be perfect, it had to at least be memorable. But if she met the team, especially someone as perceptive as Rossi, he didn't know what he'd do. As much as he loved his friends, he wanted to keep Anthea to himself, if not forever then certainly for as long as possible.

"Spencer?" Anthea's voice drew him out of his thoughts. He blinked and focused on her face. She looked concerned. "Did you hear what I said?"

"Sorry," he winced. "What was that?"

"I asked if you think it's a good idea for me to drop off the album when he's not home. That way I don't have to see him."

Spencer stopped walking, bringing Anthea to a stop alongside him. He examined her face, even though she deliberately looked away from him and focused her eyes onto another painting. Did she mean it? Would she be okay with doing something like that? He knew she went out of her way for her family, it definitely had something to do with her adoption but more importantly she was just that kind of person – it made sense for her to want to meet Rossi in person, maybe chat with him about her uncle. Spencer knew he would come up; Rossi was perceptive and smart, and even if he didn't bring up Spencer somehow or the other, he knew it was time for him to come clean to his friends. But now?

"I don't know," he said finally, lamely, unable to come up with another excuse.

Anthea didn't react. She didn't even look at him. "Elizabeth is making a stop to that part of town, I'm sure she won't mind dropping it off for me," was all she said.

They didn't speak of it again after that.

!

Case in Florida. Sorry I can't make it to dinner. I'll call you tonight.

The deeply impersonal text even made Spencer cringe as he read through it, but he forced himself to send it anyway. Anthea hadn't spoken to him properly since their talk at the exhibition, and that had been five days ago. She had sent the album with Elizabeth, like she had said she would, and he had seen Rossi and Hotch looking over it in the latter's office the next day. He hadn't had a chance to see her since, though; they were flying out for a case now, and Anthea had merely texted him a few times to say she had classes and a report due, so she would be busy for a while. The few times he had tried to call her, she hadn't picked up, merely sending him a short "at the library, can't pick up" every time, even though he was sure she had probably just been asleep at least during one of his calls. Spencer knew she was hurt, but he had absolutely no idea how to make it better.

"You alright, kid?" asked Morgan, falling into the seat next to him and taking out his phone – no doubt to text Savannah.

Reid shrugged. "I'm fine."

"You're lying," Morgan didn't even have to look at him to put across his disapproval. He finally turned off his phone and raised his eyebrows at Spencer. "You wanna talk about it now or later?"

"Later," acquiesced Spencer. He was loath to talk about it, but maybe Morgan could help him.

Just before he switched off his phone, the text he received convinced him even more that he needed the older man's help.

At the library until morning, won't be able to talk. Stay safe.

!

"You got a girl?" the glee was barely concealed in Morgan's voice.

Spencer rolled his eyes, but nodded anyway as he sipped his coffee. "Yeah, I did."

"Let me see," demanded Morgan, and Spencer reluctantly took out his phone, flipping through the few images he had in his gallery until he found one of Anthea that he had taken while they were at the park. She was smiling happily and clutching a book to her chest – they had been reading under a tree when the rain had interrupted them.

"She's cute," said Morgan, his lips twitching into a smile as he flipped to the next picture, one of Anthea and Spencer himself as he read to her. She had snapped it from above, her head resting against his chest comfortably, and the half-confused smile on Spencer's face always made her laugh when she looked at it again. She had made it her phone's wallpaper only a week ago.

"She's amazing," said Spencer, unable to disguise the regret in his voice.

Morgan nudged his shoulder gently. "Hey, don't be like that. So, you screwed up. If she's put up with so much from you till now, she was bound to get upset eventually. You just need to make it up to her."

"How?" Spencer ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "I don't know how to do grand, romantic gestures, and I know for a fact that she doesn't like them. She likes it when I read to her, or when I offer to carry her books home. We eat takeout on the floor half the time we're together, or we roam around the city."

"She sounds like a classy lady," said Morgan, the same half-smile threatening to overcome his face. "You're in love, aren't you?"

"I – I –" Spencer blushed, beginning to stammer, but something about Morgan's face made him pause. Sighing, he nodded.

The smile that had been hinted at finally spread across his friend's face, and he punched him in the arm – harder than usual. "That's my boy!"

"That doesn't explain how I can fix this," grunted Spencer, rubbing his arm but smiling at his friend's excitement nonetheless.

Morgan's eyes glinted as he rubbed his hands together. "Oh, I think I can help with that."

!

Anthea heard the incessant buzzing of her phone and silenced it with one hand, already knowing who was calling. She bit her lip and gave an apologetic smile to the man opposite her sharing her table; he smiled back. Ducking her head back to her book, she read through a few pages hurriedly, intent on finishing the chapter before she had to pack up and go home for the night. However, her phone buzzed twice more before she was done, indicating she had a text message. Sighing when she realized she clearly would not be able to finish her book that night, she marked her place and stuffed it into her bag, having already checked it out for fear of this very thing happening.

She didn't check her phone until she was walking across campus to the bus-stop. Other than the five missed calls from Spencer, there was one from her brother and a voice-mail, plus two text messages. Deciding that they could all wait until later, she nevertheless opened the first text.

I'm home. Can I see you tonight?

Anthea sighed and scrolled down to the second one.

I missed you.

"Didn't feel like it," she muttered to herself, but nevertheless she typed out a reply.

I'm getting the bus home now.

Knowing he would probably be waiting for her by the time she reached, Anthea tossed her phone back into her bag and boarded the bus absently, her mind too preoccupied to pay attention to her surroundings. She knew she cared about Spencer, and she had missed him more than she thought she would while he had been away, specially considered the way they had left things. Still, she was hurt. It was stupid, really, because she knew what he was like. Other than the obvious fear of commitment, it was clear he had never done this before. He had told her he would be bad at a normal relationship, but of course Anthea had insisted she didn't care, insisted she could handle it. And she could, she knew that, because he was worth it. The way he made her feel safe and yet not vulnerable, the way he read to her because she loved it even though it made him awkward, even the way he made it a point to bestow upon her every possible physical affection he could despite the fact that it was against his nature, he tried so very hard with her.

But Anthea tried as well. And the fact that he couldn't give her the one thing they both knew she wanted but never asked for had hurt her more than she had thought it would. She didn't want to invade his work life; she didn't even want to be best friends with his friends despite the fact that in any other circumstance that was exactly what she would have done. But she wanted them to know about her – she craved the validation she had thought she didn't need, but it had taken root now and there was no going back.

The bush lurched to a stop and pulled her out of her thoughts. Sighing, she gathered her things and climbed out, making a beeline for her apartment building across the road. She needed to snap out of it, she knew that. Rarely did Spencer come home from a case in a chatty mood, and her surliness would not help. They would talk about it, of course, but not yet. For one more day, she could try to be the perfect girlfriend.

Anthea was so intent on mentally preparing herself to act the part she knew she had to play that she almost didn't notice the shadowy figure slouched outside her building, instead of waiting for her inside as he usually did. Spencer grasped her elbow gently, however, before she walked completely past him, and Anthea blinked.

"Why aren't you inside?" she asked, forgoing the rehearsed greeting she had been practising. Her eyes narrowed. Spencer looked good – he always did, she thought to herself bitterly – but today he looked extra good. He wasn't carrying his go-bag, which made her wonder if he had actually just come back from a case or gone somewhere else first. He was dressed better than usual too – her favourite purple scarf was wrapped around his neck, and his hair was relatively tame.

"I was waiting for you," his hand went down from her elbow to her wrist. Anthea didn't resist, but she did raise her eyebrows. Spencer ignored her expression, at least for the moment, and pulled her closer to himself cautiously. Automatically, her arms wound around his neck. He smiled. "I missed you."

"You said that already," said Anthea, her words blunter than she had intended. Internally, she winced. Almost apologetically, she brushed his loose hair off his forehead and offered him a small smile back. She couldn't remember a time when Spencer had voluntarily been affectionate with her in public. Sure, they held hands when they took walks or went out on dates, and he often pressed quick, chaste kisses to her forehead and lips when one of them had to rush out on the other for work, but this decidedly romantic, normal affection was new for her.

"I probably should say it more often," he confessed, resting his forehead against hers in a move that almost made her mouth fall open. "And I'm sorry for the way I acted."

Anthea bit her lip. "I may have overreacted a little," she offered.

"No, you don't have to defend me this time, Thea," the nickname fell so casually from his lips that Anthea felt the heat rise to her cheeks, both from happiness and from a curious flush of pleasure she had rarely experienced in her life. "I know what you wanted me to say, and believe me I wanted to say it too. You are an amazing person," his free hand touched her face, stroking her cheek almost wonderingly. "I want the other people in my life to know that."

"It didn't feel like it, Spencer."

"Because I was afraid," he looked down, every atom of his body screaming with shame. "I told you, I haven't done this before. I want to tell people about you, but when it comes to it I just freeze, and I don't know why."

"You don't freeze when you have to tell me things," said Anthea gently. She nudged his face up with the tips of her fingers. "Why didn't you just talk to me about it?"

"You shouldn't have to deal with all these things," Spencer shook his head adamantly. "My problems are not yours."

Anthea sighed. "That's not how these things work, Spencer. You took care of me for days after Robbie's accident, you looked after Zeus while I was gone, and you did it all because you're a good guy and a good boyfriend, but you also did it because I let you. How would you have felt if I had cut you off because I didn't know what to think or how to handle the situation?" Understanding shone in his eyes at her analogy, and Anthea exhaled in relief. "If you had told me all this weeks ago we wouldn't even have to have this conversation."

"I know. I'm sorry," the frustration in his voice made her heart ache. "I'll fix it, I promise."

Anthea didn't have to lie and pretend that there was nothing to fix, she knew he would see through it immediately. She sighed. "How?"

Spencer's cheeks turned pink. "I, uh," he stammered out something she didn't understand.

Deciding they could talk inside, Anthea shushed him soothingly, giving him time to collect himself as they rode the elevator up to her apartment. Spencer didn't speak much, but he didn't have to. He kept an arm around her securely, and while in the elevator he pressed his lips to her temple and kept them there until they had to move, his breathing slow and relaxed.

It wasn't until they were seated in her living-room with Zeus at his feet – a change she noticed but was not displeased about – that he spoke again. "I want you to meet the team," said Spencer quietly. "I understand that it may seem like I'm doing this because you got upset when I acted that way about meeting Rossi, but it's not like that."

Anthea shook her head. "I wouldn't think like that, Spencer. I trust you."

He smiled at her admission, reaching out for a hand that she gave him willingly. He kissed her knuckles, causing her heart to constrict in her chest. "I just wanted to be sure."

"We don't have to do this so soon," said Anthea reassuringly. "I know I acted like it was a big deal, and for me it was, but I know its not like that for you."

"No, its okay, I want to do this," Spencer shook his head. "Morgan's baby's christening is next month. I already texted Savanna and said I'm bringing you."

Anthea could feel a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "You told Morgan?"

Spencer grinned sheepishly. "It was his idea."

Anthea laughed and leaned forward. Spencer automatically took her into his arms, letting out a quiet sigh of relief when she kissed his cheek and settled her head comfortably against his chest. "Thank you," she murmured quietly. "I know it wasn't easy for you."

"He told me to shut up after about twenty minutes. He said I couldn't stop talking about you once I started."

Anthea laughed again. They were silent for a while, simply enjoying being together in comfort after so many weeks of awkwardness. Finally, Spencer broke the silence again. "Thea?"

"Hmm?" Anthea leaned back, catching his eye and raising an eyebrow questioningly. She was still smiling.

Spencer gulped uncomfortably. So far, Morgan's plan had gone off without a hitch. This was the last part, the icing on the cake. He needed to do this, but God he didn't want to lose her. "Can I say something?"

"You already did," she teased. When Spencer barely cracked a smile, hers faltered. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes, it is," he assured her quickly. "I just, uh," her look of concern prompted him to take a deep breath. "I have to say something."

Anthea blinked. "Okay?"

"And I need you to promise you won't freak out."

She cocked her head to the side questioningly. "Is it something worth freaking out about?"

"I freaked out when I said it out loud to myself the first time," admitted Spencer.

Anthea's eyes widened fractionally, but she didn't pull away. In fact, Spencer was sure he saw a flicker of understanding in her eyes before they became guarded again. Had she figured out what he was going to say? It was impossible to tell, and he didn't want to think about it, not yet. "Go ahead," she encouraged.

He took a deep breath. "I'm in love with you."

Anthea's reaction was the exact opposite of what he expected. Instead of exclaiming with surprise, or joy, or even looking shocked, she smiled softly, her eyes glistening with a suspicious moisture. Spencer opened his mouth to speak, to elaborate, but Anthea merely held up a finger against his lips, her smile never wavering. She removed her hand and pressed a quick, chaste kiss to his frozen lips before settling back into his arms, her head resting against his heart. Spencer was sure she could hear it thudding uncommonly fast against his ribs.

If she could, she didn't comment on it. Instead, she let out a quiet sigh of contentment. "I know you are," she murmured quietly. "I love you too, Dr. Reid."

Two hours later, when they were still a tangled mess of limbs on her sofa with her dog dozing by their feet, Spencer realized that her reaction hadn't been what he expected, but it had been exactly what he needed.