Authors Note: Okay, so I am at the end of finals, which is just so nice at he moment. So this chapter jumps a few months from the last one, and the next chapter after this will likely jump a few more months ahead. Most of the ideas I'm having for this story take place in Season 6 and 7, so we're likely going to be skipping months for a while. So, please stick with me, and offer idea's if there are certain things you, as the reader, would like to see happen. I don't mind in the slightest, and every idea helps, even if you don't see me use it in the following chapters.
Oh, and for those of you who belong to the grammar police and have problems with my dyslexic brain's inability to catch and correct grammar and spelling mistake, I have no beta, so if it really bothers you, feel free to apply for this non-profit job.
Any who, on to the usual disclaimer: 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. And if you have any suggestions or ideas for this story, I may not use them, but I'd like to hear them, and I'd really appreciate any suggestions you send my way. Message me, or leave your idea in the review section, I'll be looking at both.
Thank you all for your reviews and support, and all your kind words of encouragement, weather you use your account to post the review or do it anonymously! Now on with the chapter…
Chapter 17: March 2009
_._._._._
"The funny thing is that although we place so much energy and importance on our wedding day, it isn't the biggest day of our life. The biggest day of your life is every day thereafter. Because it's not the pledge to love someone that matters, but the act of fulfilling that pledge that is most important. In other words, it's only just begun."
― Laura Wolf, Diary of a Mad Bride
_._._._._
Alma Isley visited DC in March to go wedding dress shopping with Harley. Spencer and Harley had set the date earlier in the year, deciding on a late summer wedding in the next year. They'd decided on having the wedding in California, with Harley and Kieran deciding to split the fee to get the family out to the west coast. It'd mean his mother could be driven to the wedding rather than flown out. They'd decided to do a vintage wedding at Meadowood Napa Valley, which was actually located north of Napa in St. Helena. They'd spent a week there when they'd first become exclusive while Harley recovered from brain surgery at 21, and they tried to take a weekend in Napa every year since around the time of their anniversary. New Zealand had been the place they'd met, but Napa was the place that they'd first really been alone together, and where they'd really come to connect with each other.
The wedding was going to be vintage, with a theme that Harley called "West coast Gatsby", with the elegance and drama of the early nineteen twenties. As such, Harley's bridesmaids (for which she'd chosen fellow forensic scientist Abby Scuito, her cousin and middle man, Murphy Isley, and her childhood friend and teenage rival, Delinda Deline) would be dressed in 1920s inspired flapper dress remakes (because finding fitting, similar, color coordinated authentic flapper dresses was an undertaking that no one wanted to try and undertake).
Currently, Harley and Alma where at a bridal shop that Alma had managed to procure for the day as Harley tried to find her dress in the racks of dresses that Alma had found, borrowed, and brought with her to DC. Many came from vintage sellers all across the contry, and others where inspired designs that had been sitting in costume storage throughout Hollywood. And a few other remakes that some designers had created. Nonna was with them, as well as Harley's godmother, Hetty Lange, and Murphy, who was down from Boston for a dress sizing.
"Just explain it to me, because I really don't understand," Murphy demanded in the least demanding tone of voice she could muster. Murphy towered over Harley at 5'9", with fiery red hair she wore in old Hollywood glamor curls. She liked wearing tight, provocative outfits which suited her job as agent (dabbling in everything from talent to press to sports) and overall concurer of men. Murphy has a sharp eye and an even sharper tongue. She doesn't take any shit, and misogynistic remarks in her presents are usually met with a stiletto heel in places most men don't want them. She's fiercely protective of family, and Harley was basically her sister after the five years she ended up living with Kieran and Alma before she reached 18. "Why the 1920s?"
"You mean besides the gangsters, speakeasies, F. Scott Fitzgerald, the fashion, Jazz music and Coco Chanel?" Harley grinned at her, knowing she'd gotten Murphy with Chanel. "I love the fashion and flare, the dancing and excitement. And it was an era of change. So much technology being introduced, social change came about, and the rules of society seemed to change as well. It's an era of wild living and happiness bookmarked by great and terrible sadness. A sort of light in a very dark forty year stretch of time. The sinking of the Titanic, World War I, the Great Depression, World War II, the Korean War. It's an extremely important time in our history.
"Plus, Spencer used to read me The Great Gatspy from memory when I'd call him after a bad day or a seizure. It reminded me of Uncle Bennie, who'd read it to me as a bedtime story when I used to stay with him. He'd read me all these British classics by day, but come night fall he'd pick up this worn, yellow paged, dog eared copy of The Great Gatsby and read it to me in that deep, soft voice of his. I'd missed that so much, and then Spencer went and started reciting it from memory. We'd only met like half a dozen times at that point, but he was reciting a book that meant so much to me. It… He was reading it to me when I when I woke up after having brain surgery, and I just remember realizing that… That he was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. That I couldn't stand the idea of having to go through life without being able to talk to him and hear his voice. I won't say that's the moment I fell in love with him, because it's not, but it was the moment that put me on the path to falling in love with him. it was the moment I realized that I could love him.
"The Great Gatsby is an important part of Spencer and my story. And that's all this wedding is about. Spencer and I and our life together. It's not the start of the story, it's just the start of a new chapter for us. And we want our wedding to reflect that," Harley smiled softly, looking though the dresses.
"That's a wonderful reason, my dear," Hetty smiled. "But I do believe it's time for you to actually start trying on some of these dresses."
Harley laughed, pulling a few dresses from the rack to add to the pile her mother and Nonna had already picked out. Harley tried on several that all seemed to range from being too bid or not big enough before trying one on and finding out that it fit like a glove. Harley stared at herself in the mirror with her family looking from behind her.
Harley stood still, looking at herself in this perfect gown. She didn't have words to voice how… perfect this dress was. The cut, the style, the thread work. The feel, the way it looked on her. The sheer perfection of the dress that fit her in all the right places with only minor fixes being needed here or there. This was the dress. And looking at the faces of the women behind her, they knew it too.
"Oh, sweetie," her mother grinned with tears in her eyes. "You look amazing."
"If this dress doesn't make Spencer at a loss for words, I don't think there's anything that can," Murphy grinned. "You look stunning."
"I quiet agree," Nonna told her, coming up beside her and grabbing Harley's hand. "I think my mamma's pearls will go perfectly with this dress."
Harley and Alma both looked at the older woman in shock. Nonna never let anyone tough her mamma's special pearls, the one's that Nonna's papa had given her in the early 1920's when they'd first met and the family was still in Sicily. It was a long string of pearls that could wrap and wrap around your neck that Nonna treasured much as her mother had, and that she refused to let anyone else wear. So it was shocking to here her offer now. None of the other brides in the family had ever gotten the same offer.
"What? Mama would want her to, dressed like this. And Mama loved men like Spencer. It's why she always wished I'd have married your uncle Bennie, rather than my Francesco," Nonna reminisced with a smile. "The look on Bennie's face when she told him… I'm not sure he ever recovered from the shock."
Harley smiled at her. "If your sure."
"I am," Nonna nodded. "Besides, those pearls haven't seen a dress like this since Mamma's own wedding. They deserve it. You deserve it, tesorino (little treasure)."
"Well, I do believe I know just the pair of shoes to go with that dress," Hetty smiled, standing to the back of the group. "And a very nice veil, as well."
_._._._._
Harley and Spencer spent a Thursday evening later that week together at Vertiacl Rock, a rock climbing gym in Manassas. They'd been doing races to see who could climb to the top faster, as well as competing with each other on specified routs. Currently they were in the boulder-cave where the walls where only eighteen feet tall and no harnesses where needed. They had to heft themselves up from the ground, climb marked paths along the walls and ceiling, and try to hang on as they're brains worked to figure out the best positions and the best ways to transfer their hold from one climbing hold to another.
"So, who are your groomsmen going to be?" Harley asked, looking at Spencer as he made his way around the cave.
"I already asked Danny to be my best man. And I asked Tony to be one of my groomsmen. I'm still deciding on a third," Spencer told her, moving along the wall.
"Well, pick someone who can handle Murphy. I'm sticking Tony with Abby, and Delinda designated herself into the maid of horror—sorry, honor—position," Harley grinned, eyeing his rear. "What about anyone from work?"
"Morgan?" Spencer signed. "I've thought about it. But we don't really spend a lot of time together outside of work. And when we do, it's things he and the team like to do, like going to bars and stuff. And he barely knows you."
"That's fixable," Harley shrugged. "What about Aaron?"
"No. I spend more time with him away from work than any other team member, but it's weird. He's my boss. No," Spencer told her. "Declan?"
"No, I still need to decide who's walking me down the aisle, which go really complicated last May. I mean Dave's DNA is a part of me. His proverbial blood. But Dad's blood, sweet, and tears went into raising me. And… Honestly, I don't want to offend either one of them, but I also don't want two men walking me down the aisle. So, I need Declan available as a backup," Harley signed. She then laughed as Spencer fell from the wall while trying to switch hands. "What about Ethan?"
"So you and Rossi have any plans to get together anytime soon?" Spencer asked, standing up and wiping the chalk off as he avoided the question.
"Yeah, we have plans to meet up this weekend so long as you guys aren't called away before then. We plan to walk around Old Town, and tour the shops and such. It makes me miss the Old Town in San Diego and Coronado," Harley smiled. "But it's been fun, getting to know him. You know, we should invite the team over for dinner some time."
"Maybe," Spencer agreed. "So, flower arrangements?"
Harley glared at him, groaning.
Spencer just grinned.
"So back to Ethan…"
_._._._._
Harley walked up to the front door of the house that JJ, Will, and Henry lived in, and knocked. The BAU team was out on a case in Boston, which prompted Harley's visit. She'd been making similar visits to Henry and Will ever since JJ had returned to work, just to check in and see if Will needed anything. Having grown up in an Italian/Irish family, she knows how hard raising babies is, especially when one parent is gone often, so she liked to check in on Will just to see how he's doing. It wasn't because she thought that Will was anything less than a superb father, but more because babies don't necessarily stick to a schedule and sleep is a commodity. She used to do the same with Haley and Jack, even though he was older at the time.
Will open the door and smiled at her. "Good morning, Harley. How's your day been?"
"Good, thank for asking," Harley smiled in return. "Spencer asked me to drop off this book for Henry and I came by for the baby fix."
Will laughed, inviting her into the house. "So, I haven't seen you around since you went down for Mardi Gras."
He was referring to her trip down to New Orleans at the later end of February. She'd gone down to help the local NCIS field office with a body they'd gotten. It'd been right before Mardi Gras, and she'd stayed for about a week after, sticking around to offer her help on the case. She hadn't been by during the BAU's last case due to her own case load which had just let up yesterday.
"Hey baby," Harley grinned, speaking in a low voice once she spotted Henry. "How are you feeling? Good? Good."
Harley sat down in front of the baby, making faces at him, to which he laughed at. Will smiled, sitting down on the floor across from her. "You and Spencer ever talk about having kids?"
"We've talked about it, sure. And we came to the conclusion that for us to raise a child together, one of us is going to need to cut back a little at work. And I think Spencer's always going to be terrified that he'll pass on schizophrenia. But… It's a risk we're both willing to take. We're just going to hold off on taking that risk for a few more years. Enjoy the rest of our twenties. We still have a few good years left in us, you know."
Will laughed. Then, in his southern drawl he told her, "You'll make a good mama."
"Thank you," Harley told him. "So, what do you say we leave the house and take Henry to the Playseum in Bethesda?"
"Sound like a plan, cher."
_._._._._
When Spencer returned from the case in Boston, following in the resurfacing of the Reaper, Spencer joined Harley on her night run with the dogs. Spencer had Lyssa's leash, and Harley had Slade's while BC had lazily stayed at home. Harley usually ran 10 kilomiters a day, split so she only did five in the morning and another five at night. She may no longer be a professional gymnast, but she was still a hard core athlete, and she enjoyed pushing herself with new and challenging feats of athleticism.
She'd grown up on the California coast, and was used to spending most of the year outdoors. She'd grown up swimming, surfing, and rock climbing year round. Now that she lived on the East Coast, she'd traded swimming for running, and surfing for yoga.
"You know, running on asphalt if actually better for your knees then running on cement," Spencer told her as they ran. Harley just laughed and rolled her eyes before using her body to push him off of the side walk and into the street in response. Spencer laughed in response and pulled her into the street with him in retaliation. "What would you think about inviting the team over for dinner one night?"
"Oh," Harley laughed. "So my idea was a good one, wasn't it?"
Spencer shock his head as he continued running alongside her.
"Sounds good. But I refuse to cook alone. So we have to invite Tony because I don't trust you with more than a salad," Harley grinned. Spencer grinned. He could cook… so long as it wasn't Italian, or so Harley tells him. He'd learned to cook in the time between his father leaving and his first day at Caltech, having to cook dinner most days to feed himself and his mother. But he was very analytical about it, and made food like a chemist mixing chemicals. And Harley swore that Italian food tastes best when there's tradition and love behind it. Thus, Spencer couldn't cook Italian.
"What if we invited Rossi over early?" Spencer suggested.
"I'll think about it," Harley shrugged. "I'd need to find out if he's the type of man who believes that it's perfectly reasonable to drive two hours for good Italian food first."
Spencer laughed a full bellied laugh because not only did Harley believe it was reasonable to drive two hours for good Italian food (a trip she'd been making since she was a little girl. Back them that two hour trip lead to Roma D'Italia, and now days that trip took them to Angelini's Italian restaurant), but she also believed that traveling home three times a year, not to visit her parents but to take the two hour drive to Roma D's, was still perfectly sane.
Spencer and Harley ran in silence for another mile. As they were rounding the corner that would set them on a straight path home, Harley brought up a new line of conversation. "So, how about we go to Virginia Beach this weekend? A little sun, a little sand, and maybe a little smoochie."
Spencer laughed. "Sounds like a plan. You want to ride the bike down, or would you rather rent a convertible?"
"Let's take the bike out. Haven't used it in a while and having the wind in my hair sounds nice," Harley grinned. "I'll race you the rest of the way back. Ready, go."
Spencer grinned as he and Lyssa sprinted after Harley and Slade, running the rest of the way to house at full speed.
He loved these nights when he and Harley ran together. There was just something about it. Harley always wanted to race at the end and Spencer could probably predict it moments before it happens based on past experience alone. It was a good point to relax and let the stress of the day go. On days that Spencer was home for, Harley and Spencer used the run to talk shop and any topics one knows the other might argue with them on. It was Harley's method of keeping the house "clean of bad feelings and bad auras". Or, well, it was more like Harley's way of making sure the job was left at the door and inside they could just be Harley and Spencer without the stress and the protective walls that came with the job. The only exception for the "check the job at the door" was in the office where the two of them had case files and crime screen photos scattered about. Thankfully the office was hidden behind a bookshelf door in the library so it was masked from visitors and hidden from view.
It was just too bad that in just a few months these runs would be put to a sudden screeching hault, and Spencer would end up going months without another afterwards.
_._._._._
"He wasn't the type for displays of affection, either verbal or not. He was disgusted by couples that made out in the hallways between classes, and got annoyed at even the slightest sappy moments in movies. But I knew he cared about me: he just conveyed it more subtly, as concise with expressing this emotion as he was with everything else. It was in the way he'd put his hand on the small of my back, for instance, or how he'd smile at me when I said something that surprised him. Once I might have wanted more, but I'd come around to his way of thinking in the time we'd been together. And we were together, all the time. So he didn't have to prove how he felt about me. Like so much else, I should just know."
― Sarah Dessen, The Truth About Forever