Authors Note: This story takes place in the Criminal Minds universe with the occasional crossover into the Bones universe. As such, I only own my own original characters and everything else belongs to the writers and networks, blah, blah, blah.

Hope you enjoy. And please review at the end. I love hearing what you all think of Spencer and Harley.

Oh, and if any of you can figure out the significance of Harley's name, and he pets names, please tell me. It's going to be coming up in later chapters, and there's sort of an interesting relation ship between her name and where that name comes from. So, if you can figure out the allusion or whatever it is that goes with her names, please tell me. I want to see how many of you can make the connection.

Chapter 8: April 2007

"There are three possible parts to a date, of which at least two must be offered: entertainment, food, and affection. It is customary to begin a series of dates with a great deal of entertainment, a moderate amount of food, and the merest suggestion of affection. As the amount of affection increases, the entertainment can be reduced proportionately. When the affection IS the entertainment, we no longer call it dating. Under no circumstances can the food be omitted."

― Judith Martin

Spencer had been sober for almost two months now. He'd just gotten back from a case out in Baltimore involving the Russian mob. Harley was a month away from her third and fourth doctorates. And she was finding out that she'd missed an eventful few months at the Jeffersonian's Medical-Legal lab (they'd reached the conclusion of their time with Howard Epps related cases, and they'd crossed paths with a serial killer called the Gravedigger). And a case involving a couple of hit-men from Baltimore had taken up a good chunk of her week.

Currently, Spencer and Harley where set to meet up at Founding Fathers for a date night. He'd gotten a little bit more dressed up than usual, and he was seated at a table meant for four. It was late on a Thursday so it wasn't crowded, but Harley was still running late, even at the late hour. They'd had a case involving a hitman at the lab, and Harley, having grown up in a mob involved family was always fascinated with cases like that. He knew she'd be here soon, but he'd also known it was likely she'd have been late to begin with. He should have anticipated that.

So here he was, sitting alone at a table meant for four. Waiting.

"Spencer!"

He turned to see Haley Hotchner coming his way with Hotch following behind her not looking happy. Which was kind of his go-to expression. Haley on the other hand was smiling, and looking pleased to see him. "Mrs. Hotchner. It's nice to see, but… Um, what are you doing here?"

"Aaron and I are having a date night while my sister babysits Jack. What are you doing here? Waiting for someone?" Haley asked with a grin. "A date perhaps?"

"Haley…" Hotch seemed to warn her, coming up behind her. "Reid."

"Hotch," Spencer greeted his boss. "I'm actually—"

"I'm so sorry I'm late Pen," Harley apologized, coming up behind him and bending down to give him a chaste kiss before sitting down in the seat next to him. Harley had on a navy blue skin tight dress that went to her knees, with a slit in the back up to her mid-thigh. It was off the shoulder with sleeves that went to her elbows. She had on a pair of cream, ankle strap platform heels, a pearl necklace and her hair down in loose curls. "I just got so entrained by this last case I—Hello."

She seemed to have just caught on to the presents of two other people.

"Hi, I don't think we've meet before. I'm Dr. Harley Isley," Harley smiled, extending a hand out towards Hayley. "I'm Spencer's… uh…"

She was now looking in his direction, waiting for him to fill in the blank.

"Girlfriend," Spencer finished, shrinking back in his chair. "Harley this is my boss Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, and his wife Haley."

Hayey grinned. "I didn't know Spencer had a girlfriend. How recent is—"

"Haley," Hotch interrupted, staring at Harley. He'd seen her before, he knew it. But where had he seen her before?

"We've actually been together since we were 18," Spencer told her, reaching to grab Harley's hand as a security blanket.

"We'll be celebrating our eighth year together in November," Harley told the married pair with a grin. "And, Agent Hotchner, you saw me last year during your Fisher King case. Although, I'm pretty sure you thought I was a prostitute. Which, considering I was dressed for Vegas rather than DC, I don't blame you for it."

Haley looked between the others, looking… amused. "A prostitute?"

"Plunging neck line. Painted on jeans. Stripper heels," Harley clarified. Then with a grin, she added: "It's happed before. You're welcome to join us. Unless you already have other plan. Then you're welcome to continue with those."

Haley laughed, taking the open seat beside Spencer. Hotch looked worried. "Sit, Aaron. So do you mind if I ask, where do you work? I just, don't know what to imagine Spencer's girlfriend doing for a living."

"I'm an assistant at the Jeffersonian's Medical-Legal lab to the forensic anthropologist there while I finish my doctoral theses," Harley explained. Spencer could tell that Hotch was just as uncomfortable with this as he was. And for some reason, Harley was acting like a social person for once. Her usual introvert nature was covered in a cloak of false extroverted behavior, and Spencer couldn't understand why. Maybe it was just to play with Spencer. Maybe she was finally just tired of being the closet girlfriend. Okay, that last one wasn't likely, but why was she doing this? "Once I get my theses, though, I'm kind of out of a job. The Jeffersonian already has two Forensic Anthropologists, and I can't imagine them hiring another."

"Theses? So you're working on more than one doctorate?" Hotch asked, suddenly getting into this impromptu interrogation. If Spencer hadn't known better, he'd almost have thought this was planned.

"Two," Harley nodded. "Forensic Anthropology and Bioarcheology."

"She already has two PhDs in Environmental Science and Forensic Science. So it won't be too hard to find another job," Spencer added. "Although Harley is going to miss working at the Jeffersonian."

"I don't know about that. NCIS's headquarters in the Navy Yard is looking for a replacement to one of their retiring Forensic Scientists. And if I accept the job offer, I'll get to work in the same building as Tony. He's a good friend of mine and the fraternity brother of one of my cousins, which basically makes him family," Harley explained. Tony was Harley's best friend. He was Harley's back up date to events when Spencer couldn't make it, and he was Spencer's Derek Morgan outside of work. He got Spencer involved in normal people things, including his weekly pick-up game of basketball with some local frat bothers every Sunday. Tony's a good guy. One of the best. "They kind of owe me that one since I almost got the plague while being in their building back in '05."

Haley and Hotch balked at her. At the time he had, too. Tony had almost died of the plague, and Harley had sat by him through his treatment, and for the week following as he recovered. They'd given him a 15% chance of surviving, at the time. Harley had been right across the bullpen from him when he'd opened and blown into an envelope filled with y-pestis. Harley regaled the table with the table of Tony's near death experience and her 36 hours spent with him and his partner, Kate, in an isolation chamber while Tony received medical treatment.

After Harley was done with her story, they'd already gotten drinks, and where just short of having their orders taken. As soon as Harley's story ended, Hotch picked up with one of his own stories of a case he prosecuted. They were laughing as their orders where being taken.

The two couples ended up having dinner together with Harley offering to babysit Jack anytime they needed by the end of it. Harley and Haley ended up getting on like white on rice, and Spencer figured it had to do with the fact that Haley is very reminiscent of the wives of many of her cousins. Spencer still felt strange by the end of the dinner about sitting across from his boss in this impromptu double date. But Hotch seemed to like Harley, so Spencer counted that as a success.

They walked out of the restaurant together, and headed to their cars.

"Reid," Hotch calls out just after they split up. "You never did say why you kept her a secret."

"We've been together since we were 18. You can't tell me that Morgan or JJ wouldn't have something to say about that," Spencer shrugged.

"But Gideon set you on a date with JJ?" Hotch asked, confused. "And you went along with it. Was he that far off the mark?"

"I had a crush on JJ, sure, but I had no plans to act on it. Gideon forced my hand so I faked a bad date. It wasn't that hard," Spencer shrugged. "Besides, Harley and I both go on dates with other people all the time. As long as nothing happens, than it's fine. Watching the Redskins play football, though, I don't know what he was thinking with that. I'll coach sports, sure, and sometimes I'll even play them, but I really hate watching them."

Harley turned and laughed into his chest from her position under his arm. Hotch was just looking at him like he was a whole new person. He was having some realization about his lack of knowledge into his agents' personal life. He'd kept his mom a secret from the team, and to now find out that he'd also managed to hide a girlfriend made him wonder what else the team's genius was hiding from them.

"So Gideon doesn't know?" Hotch wanted clarified as Hayley tugged on his arm, wanting him to just let the other agent go home.

"Haven't told him," Spencer called back, as he turned and walked away with Harley under his arm. "Never came up."

Hotch snorted, watching Spencer walk away with Harley for a little longer before turning with Haley and walking towards their own car. They did have a babysitter to go home and liberate, after all.

He didn't even realize that the motorcycle that veered past him as he turned on his car later was his own agent and the agents newly revealed girlfriend. Spencer smiled behind his helmet as he did. If only Hotch really knew just how much of a mask Spencer wore at work.

_._._._._

The next day at work, Spencer got called up to Hotch's office. He walked up the stairs ignoring the looks he got from Emily and Morgan, and stopped in the door way. Hotch was sitting at his desk and looked at Spencer with his usual expression. "Shut the door and sit down. I want to talk about last night."

Spencer complied, not sure if he should draw the blinds while he was at. Instead he shut the door and sat down in the chair on the other side of Hotch's desk from his boss. "What about last night?"

"I've been wondering how much of your life your hiding from the team now that two of your secrets have been uncovered," Hotch told him, staring him in the eye. "But that isn't what I called you up here to talk about. Do you think you could work with Dr. Isley, should a case come up that requires her expertise?"

Spencer frowned, trying to understand what he meant by that. "I don't understand what you mean by that."

"I'm talking about cases in Harley's expertise. If we were to bring her along as a consultant to help identify the victims and find cause of death faster," Hotch clarified. "Do you think the two of you could work together?"

"Yes," Spencer nodded. "Harley and I can work together in a professional capacity."

"Good. So tell me about her. I didn't learn all that much about her outside of her degrees last night," Hotch told him. "I want to know more about her before I make the request with Chief Straus. And I figure you probably know more about her than her personnel file."

"What do you want to know, exactly?"

"Her parents, what do they do?"

"Kieran Isley and Bianca Moretti. Her father is a film director. And no one ever talks about what her mom does outside of occasionally working as a costume director for Kieran's films, but considering who some of her old work associates are, I'd say she is or was CIA," Spencer shrugged, feeling uncomfortable with this question. "They adopted Harley when she was five. They'd fostered her a year before the adoption and she'd been in foster care a year before that. I don't know about her life before that. I don't know if Harley does either."

Hotch frowned. "Siblings?"

"Declan Isley. He's a photographer and a documentary film maker. I'm pretty sure he's living in Alaska right now. He likes living in really remote places. He's about ten years older than Harley. He's actually the one who named her," Spencer explained, looking at his hands. He was really uncomfortable going into detail about Declan because Declan is the supper private type, and it just doesn't feel right talking about Declan on top of Harley. "She has a lot of cousins she close to as well."

Hotch nodded. "Where did she go to school?"

"She home school until she got her G.E.D. at 13, and then she went to a lot of colleges for specific degree programs and course work. There wasn't just one school she went to. Her file would be a better reference, because I'm pretty sure Harley just gave me a shot list of schools when she told me."

"How did the two of you met?"

"We were pen pals since the age 14. At 18 we met up in an airport in New Zealand. And then we spent a week there together. And then we both ended up in Virginia at 21," Spencer summarized.

"Any conflicts of interest?"

"Only when it comes to the Italian Mafia or the Irish Mob. She's probably related to half of them," Spencer shrugged. It was true, too. Gio and Antonio had nothing to do with the mob, but the rest of her family was pretty shady. And he's pretty sure her Nonno is on someone's watch list.

Hotch nodded. "Anything else?"

"Not off the top of my head, but if she ends up at NCIS, you can have fun trying to pry her away from them. They don't share their assets well. The FBI has been trying to steal one of their scientists for years with no success. I hardly think Harley will be any different. The only way we can get her as a consultant is if she stays with the Jeffersonian or another such institution," Spencer told him. "Am I free to leave now?"

"Go ahead," Hotch nodded.

Spencer had to spend the rest of the day dodging questions from Emily and Morgan after coming down from Hotch's office. And he still felt uncomfortable with disclosing details about Harley and her family. Especially since Harley never talked about or mentioned the fact she'd been adopted. She'd been raised as an Isley, she'd never even gone looking for her biological parents to his knowledge, and she hadn't even been the one to tell him she was adopted. Her father had told him. Disclosing it to Hotch was the right thing to do, but it just felt wrong. It wasn't what Harley wanted.

He sort of felt guilty for even mentioning it.

_._._._._

That night, instead of going to his own apartment, Spencer wound up at Harley's door. It was the third Friday of the month, which wasn't one of Spencer's days with Harley, but he was pretty sure that Harley wouldn't mind adding him in.

He knocked on the door, heard the scamper of paws with a few yips and he waited. He didn't have to. With the security on the building, Harley rarely locked the door when she was there if she wasn't sleeping. Harley open the door a minute later. She was wearing a tight long sleeve with the buttons in the front and sleeves pushed to her elbows, and a pair of flannel shorts. Her hair was twisted up into a bun on the top of her head, and her makeup was completely washed off. The pair of fuzzy socks she had on her feet probably let her slip all over her wood floored apartment.

"Hey, I didn't know you'd be by," Harley smiled. Slade and Black Canary were behind her, with her feet actively keeping them away from the door. "You bring some PJ's?"

Spencer nodded, holding up his go bag. Harley let him in with a sweeping gesture, with Slade, the oversized puppy, and BC, the pint sized ankle bitter, running to him. He stepped over them into the apartment as Harley shut the door behind him and skipped off to the kitchen. Spencer kicked off his shoes into the bottom of Harley's wooden crate shoe rack.

Harley's apartment was basically divided into fourths, just without the walls. Her bedroom was one fourth of the apartment, the entry, laundry, closet and bathroom space making up another forth, the kitchen on a raised platform two steps up from the rest of the apartment, and the final fourth consisted of her living room. The stairs to the loft was on the back side of the kitchen area, along the wall, and took up a half of the apartment, spanning over the entry and bedroom.

Most of the walls in the apartment were brick, and the rest were a soft cream. Her apartment was a corner apartment with large windows that let in lots of light. Harley loved the view from her apartment at night. She hung lots of lanterns and crystals in front of the widows so that during the day, the light that came in was multicolored. A lot of her furniture was made of recycled wood, and custom built by Antonio.

Spencer followed Harley as she moved into the kitchen. Tony was already there, in his silk pajamas as he cooked in the kitchen. Harley went back to preparing whatever she'd been making for the oven.

The third Friday of the month was Harley and Tony's movie and/or video game night. They'd always go to one apartment, cook dinner together, and stay up late into the night either watching movies or playing a video game. Normally, he wasn't in town for the third Friday, so he didn't really care to show up anyway, but now… He just really needed to talk to Harley.

"Look who decided to show up," Harley smiled at Tony as Spencer walked into the kitchen. Slade had retreated to the couch, and BC was still wagging her tail in the vicinity of Spencer's feet. "Go get dressed. The pasta should be done by the time you come back."

"Good to see you, Spencer," Tony smiled, as he stirred the spaghetti in the large pot on the stove. It was next to the even larger pot of spaghetti sauce that Harley had been working on for the past few days. It was a three day sauce that tasted ridiculously good, and that her Nonna had brought over from her childhood home in Sicily. "You joining us for movie night? We're watching some old gangster movies."

"Sounds good," Spencer nodded, before heading into Harley's bedroom to change. When he came back out of the bedroom in his flannel pajama pants, and a loose CalTech t-shirt, Harley and Tony where serving up the pasta with a roll of garlic bread that Harley had likely made earlier in the day. "Dinner smells good."

He received grins from Harley and Tony in return. Tony passed him a plate across the divided of the bar. Harley's kitchen was set up in a U shape, opening towards the living room with the U only interrupted by a missing cabinet where the stairs opened up in the corner. There was and T shaped island in the middle of the U shape, with top side of the T being a higher standing bar top with three bar stools. Seeing as Harley rarely had more than two other people in the apartment at one time, this worked in place of having a table set up. The shorter part of the T shaped island was used for extra counter space and Harley's extra storage. Mostly it was just used in place of a pantry.

Harley moved to her herb garden along the out facing wall in the kitchen. It was one of Spencer's favorite parts of Harley's entire apartment. In Harley's little bohemian/industrial apartment, the old tea boxes along the windowed wall and the suspended 2x8 a foot above with tea cups that were all used as an herb garden was Spencer's favorite part. Mostly, because the tea boxes were all vintage and Spencer had brought her back a new one after most of his first cases with the BAU. The tea cups had been given to her by her by her aunts, cousins, and cousins' wives when she'd bought the apartment as a house warming gift. It was just a whimsical little decoration in the apartment, but Spencer loved it. Mostly because the plants where all watered by an automated watering system set up by her cousin, Rosaline, because, despite Harley's PhD in environmental science, she couldn't keep plants alive even if she tried.

It was just sort of ironic. That the girl who couldn't keep plants alive, had a flourishing herb garden. It couldn't get any more ironic even if Shakespeare had written it.

Harley came back with a few basil leaves to garnish the tops of the spaghetti heaps. "So, boys. The rules of the third Friday of the month apply now. Let's eat, and then drown our thoughts in old gangster movies and some good vino."

There were only two rules for the night of the third Friday of the month. No shop talk. And no mentioning anything that will dampen the mood. Spencer didn't know which rule telling Harley that Hotch had been asking questions about her would fall under, but either way, it was totally against the rules now. Which means now, he didn't have to tell her until morning. That may just be a good thing.

"Ah, the vino," Spencer smiled, moving to pull a few glasses from a cupboard, and a bottle of wine from the wine rack/back splash/under-the-stairs space. There where at least 10 bottles of wine as well as a little more than a few bottles of other liquors in the many diamond shaped slots. Harley didn't drink often, so most of the wines where either for cooking with or for the few times Harley did drink. The wine he'd grabbed was a nice Chianti. Harley grinned at his choice as he poured the wine into the three glasses. He handed two off to Harley and Tony before corking the wine and taking his glass to his own bar stool where his plate of spaghetti was waiting.

Harley grinned, holding up her glass. "Salute!"

"Salute!" Tony and Spencer chimed, clinking their glasses against hers.

As they ate their meal, Tony, Harley, and Spencer debated the best gangster movie of all time, their favorite notorious mobsters, and the best new movie out in theaters. Harley talked about the new movie her father was directing. Tony talked about some plans he and his frat brothers where making for a vacation this summer. And Spencer talked about some research that had just come out that he'd read about. He knew Tony wasn't really following on that last part, but Harley seemed interested. Or she faked it well enough, at least.

Spencer'd learned that Tony hadn't been around for the worst of it because he'd been dealing with something that had taken up most of his time for those months. Including his boss being close to an explosion and getting a case of amnesia that had temporarily knocked him back to right after his wife and child's death 15 years previous. Following that, his boss had taken a four month Mexican sabbatical, leaving Tony in charge of an uncooperative team. And added into all of that was the undercover assignment that Harley ended up whispering in his ear about. Spencer couldn't blame Tony for not being there in his time of darkness.

Then at the end of their meal, they packed up the left overs, washed and dried the dishes, and climbed the stairs to the loft. The loft was a library office space. It was where all of Harley's books, CDs, and DVDs where stored. Along with the wall to wall bookshelves, a desk with a rolling chair, a daybed, a lounge chair, and a hammock set up between two poles. There was a pull down screen hung over the railing of the loft, and a projector stationed on one of the shelves in the bookshelf. Spencer sat down on the lounge, Tony took the daybed, and Harley climbed into the hammock as soon as she got the first film rolling.

By the third movie, Harley and Spencer had claimed the daybed, and Tony was laying on the lounge chair. By the fourth, all three of them where half way to falling asleep. And by the fifth, Spencer was the only one still awake. Spencer put on The Third Wave as soon as the credits rolled on Scarface. Harley was curled up into a ball on one edge of the daybed with her favorite throw blanket tangled around her feet. Tony was stretched out over the lounge with a knit blanket that Harley's aunt Tia had given her. BC had climbed the stairs to the loft and was sleeping between Tony's legs. Slade was stretched out on the floor next to Harley. It almost felt like family. Harley was his girl, and Tony was like an annoying older brother. It felt good. Moreover, it felt like home…

And it was only just now, that Spencer realized he'd never known that feeling before Harley. He and his father had never really connected, and his mother was mentally absent for a good portion of his childhood. And he'd never exactly felt like he belonged somewhere before. Harley made him feel all of those things that he had never felt before. She brought out the best him he could be.

And Spencer wanted to worship Harley for that.

She gave him all of the things he'd never had before.

He feel asleep with an arm around Harley in the middle of his favorite gangster movie feeling a lot more self-aware than he had in a while.

Spencer, Harley, and Tony spent the rest of the weekend together. They went rock climbing at an indoor rock climbing center, and played basketball with Tony's friends. They laughed, and goofed off, and pushed each other's buttons like nobody else knew how. They acted like they were young teens rather than adults who had seen and dealt with some of the worst of the world. And they had the best weekend that Spencer had had in a while. The only drawback at the end of the weekend was that Spencer still hadn't told Harley about Hotch's questions.

Oh well, Spencer decided. There would still be other weekends to come, and other times to tell Harley. But for now, they enjoyed themselves more than they'd been able to all year. It hadn't been the best year for any of the three. And the year still wasn't over. But this one weekend gave Spencer more motive to continue on down the path he was going.

And that was all he'd never realized he'd needed.

"I don't understand dating… and the other things that people do… all I know is that you ought to find the one you recognize. The one who gives you four arms, four legs, four eyes, and has the other half of your heart. There's only one of those, so what are all the other things for? Like dating?"

― C. JoyBell C.

REALLY REALLY IMPORTANT! PLEASE READ!

Author's Note: Hey, all. So since my last update to this story, the traffic counter for this story has completely stalled at the amount of views this story had before Chapter 7 went up. And thanks to those of you who have reviewed, favorited, and fallowed this story since Chapter 7 was posted (a big thank you to all of you who did that, you honestly don't know how much I love you for that right now. Especially those of you who sent in reviews about my last chapter), I know there was traffic on this story. So, my question for you is, do any of you know how I fix that? I already sent in an e-mail to Fanfictions support, and nothing has changed, so if any of you have gone through something similar, could you please tell me how your problem got fixed?

And before I end this author's note, do any of you have any ideas on any more vow/rules I could add to Harley and Spencer's list? I really want you feed back.

Please review. I know I don't send individual messages back to all of you who do send in reviews, but I love hearing back from you. And everyone's thoughts help me out figuring out what to do with Harley and Spencer next.

Much love and thanks. I hope you enjoyed the chapter!