The next weeks progressed with Spencer and I talking on the phone when he was away with work, going on the occasional date when he was back, which did include an attempt to teach me how to make pad thai (spoiler: it was very good).

Before I knew it, it had been two and half months, and it was when Spencer and I reading on my couch after a very filling dinner of spaghetti that he asked me a question.

"What are you doing this Saturday night?"

"Probably just hanging out here, so nothing much…Why?"

"Well, the team and I were going to go out for some drinks and food, and Derek and Penelope have already figured out who you are and I think they would like to meet you?"

"They technically already have met me," I pointed out.

"That's what I said," he said, "But they want to meet you as my 'girlfriend' instead of 'Hotch's friend,' as Penelope eloquently put it."

"I haven't seen much of Hotch lately," I mused. "I saw him last week at Backroads, but he had to rush out."

"You're changing the subject."

"Cute and smart," I said, getting up to put our dishes in the sing. "I knew there was a reason I kept you around."

"You can say no," he said, following me.

"It's not that I don't want to," I confessed. "It's just…"

"It's just what?"

"This team…it's like your family, right? And, that's a pretty huge deal to meet your family."

"Technically, you already met them," he said.

"Using my own words against me?" I groaned, giving him a look.

"Alright, alright," he said, putting his hands up defensively.

"It's just…I'm a private person and I'm a little worried that they're going to interrogate me and demand background checks," I said.

"We may be the FBI, but they do know their limits," he said.

"I know, I know…" I said, my eyes flickering to my bedroom door, my mind wandering to the contents of that safe. I knew that it was all they would find, but the nagging, defensive part of my brain kept asking the ever-dreaded 'what-if.'

What if they found out?

I had now just begun to grow roots and begin to care for people again, and a blown cover could mean it would all be gone.

Again.

"Why are you so nervous?" he asked.

"It's just…I've never really done this before…and I really, really like you and I really like this," I confessed. "I just don't want to ruin it."

"And you won't," he said, wrapping his arms around me from behind. "I promise I'll tell them to remain calm and not be overly-intrusive."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Then I guess," I said, turning to face him, "I can survive for one night."

"You make it sound like it's life or death," he said, laughing slightly.

"I've always had a flair for the dramatic," I murmured, giving him a quick kiss before slipping from his grasp. "I have to wash these dishes. Help me?"

"Of course," he said, grabbing the soap as I grabbed the dishes. We washed for a few minutes in silence, before he spoke once again, "So I think the plan is for 8:30 Saturday night? I can pick you up?"

"Sounds like a plan," I said, washing the dishes absentmindedly. Silence once again overtook us, before a thought crossed my mind. "You haven't met Caroline."

"I haven't, that's correct."

"If I have to meet your friends – I know I already met them – you have to meet mine," I said.

"That seems fair."

"I think she should be free Sunday? Brunch?" I proposed.

"Sounds good," he said. "See how easy that was?"

"Ha-ha-ha," I mocked, "So funny, Mr. FBI."

"I always knew you found me funny," he said, drying the now clean dishes.

"It's true," I said, grabbing a towel to dry my hands. "Oh, shoot it's 10, you probably have to go."

"It's fine, I don't mind driving back late," he said.

"I don't want you to be tired," I argued.

"It's a 10 minute drive," he said. "I'll be fine."

"If you say so," I said, deciding not to argue. "I'm going to turn on Dateline, want to join?"

"You date an FBI profiler and then watch a show about serial killers?" he asked.

"Eh, I've always been intrigued by the horrors of the world," I joked pulling him to the couch. I turned on the TV and flipped through the channels until I found what I was looking for.

"Perfect! With barely a minute to spare, do you want a snack?"

"No, let's just stay here?" he said, pulling me into his chest.

"I'm okay with that plan," I said, just as the Dateline began to play. The first fifteen seconds began to play, and I felt my heart sink.

"Today's episode focuses on the Cártel del Golfo, a cartel located on the border of the Rio Grande in Texas, that is known for it's ties to drug trafficking and human trafficking rings to and from both Mexico and the United States," the narration came.

"Uh, you know what," I said, turning off the TV abruptly. "I really don't want you driving too late tonight and we both have work tomorrow morning."

"I already told you that I am-"

"Spencer, please?" I asked, trying to hide my elevated heart rate. "I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, of course," he said, grabbing his coat and keys. He gave me a quick kiss before letting him leave. I locked the door behind him, staring at the TV.

"Cártel del Golfo…" I murmured, pushing my hair to the back of my head. Shaking it from my thoughts, I got ready for bed.

As I laid in bed, I wish I could say that I fell asleep easily. But my mind was filled with those images that had haunted me years earlier, those voices that had kept me awake years before, and the sirens that provided no relief.

I guess it's true that you never truly escape your past.

It always finds a way to catch up to you.

I didn't get any sleep that night.