Okay folks! Once again, thanks for your patience and I hope you enjoy. This one, like last chapter, takes place on Christmas night. Keep reading, one more chapter to go after this. I still don't own them, and never will. But I can certainly enjoy playing with what I'd have them do if I was in charge…

Christmas at Quantico

Chapter Six – Reid

"I'm dreaming of a white Christmas,

just like the ones I used to know

Where the treetops glisten,

and children listen

to hear sleigh bells in the snow;

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas,

with every Christmas card I write

May your days be merry and bright

And may all your Christmases be white…"

- "White Christmas"

Spencer Reid was pacing around his living room, a cup of coffee in hand that he kept sipping from absently, but he couldn't seem to settle down. He had planned on relaxing, enjoying the day off and watching some traditional Christmas movies, and trying to understand the conventional appeal they were supposed to have.

But for some reason "White Christmas" had served to perplex and upset him instead. Christmas had never been that way for him; all snowflakes and baking cookies and singing carols. He hadn't had little friends to anxiously await Santa with. Instead, his mother and father had encouraged his logical thinking in all ways, and by five or six years old he had realized that there was no possible way Santa could even begin to exist and do all the things people said he could. Needless to say, that while he'd never gone cold or hungry or been without presents, Christmas had never felt as cozy, gleeful, or magical as he knew it did for other people when they remembered childhood holidays. Now he found that he would give up all of his brilliance and intellect for a little of the wonder and childish joy he had never allowed himself, and for the feeling of belonging somewhere with someone and truly feeling for himself what Christmas should be like.

With a sigh, he deserted the living room and Bing Crosby singing "White Christmas" to Rosemary Clooney as snow finally began to fall at the little inn in Vermont and everything in the movie worked out perfectly like some unbelievable modern-day fairytale. All they needed was Merlin or a fairy godmother to wave their magic wand over the whole thing to complete the picture. Disgusted, he meandered into the kitchen and grabbed some cookies from the plate JJ had made for each of them as she was starting to go crazy with all her maternity leave time.

Then, taking his cookies and his coffee back to the living room, he turned off the tv and sat for a moment thinking over his options. He obviously wasn't going to be watching anymore of this ridiculous fluff, since it was rapidly making him depressed instead of entertained. He thought about putting on some Christmas music, but then discarded that idea as well, for the same reason he'd given up the movies – he obviously wasn't going to find the Christmas spirit in going through motions that had no warm memories or significance for him.

It struck him that he could call his mom at Bennington and talk to her for a while. She was, after all, his family. He didn't want her to suffer feeling as alone and forgotten on Christmas as he did. They had been all each other had for the largest portion of his life, and even though he had recently met his father again, he didn't really consider things much changed. She might not even realize that it was Christmas though, or she might be involved in holiday activities the sanitarium was putting on for its residents. Though she usually found those entertainments foolish and trivial, she could have decided to join in. He knew he was just putting off calling her though – afraid it would only make them both feel worse. He would simply check in, see if she had gotten the present he sent (a book on the Tristan and Isolde legend) and let her know he had thought of her. If she wasn't in her room, he'd leave a message for her with the desk nurse.

Reid had just gotten up to reach for the phone when he heard the doorbell of his apartment ring, then someone knocking impatiently several times. Changing course, he headed towards his front door, calling "Just a second, I'm coming!" as he went.

Surprise flitted across his features before turning to disbelief at the person he found on his doorstep when he pulled the door open. "Emily?" he asked curiously, his voice soft and awed by the sight of her on his doorstep surrounded by midnight-blue sky and snowflakes floating around her and landing on her long, dark, upturned lashes. Taking in the rest of her appearance, he was torn between chuckling and letting out an appreciative, Morgan-style wolf whistle, which he knew he had no desire to pull off. In her toboggan, leggings, and ridiculous boots, he had never seen her look both so comically thrown together and adorably, effortlessly sexy. She was literally taking his breath away. "Oh sorry!" he jolted back to reality as he saw her teeth chatter in the cold, and quickly moved out of the doorway so she could pass through. "What are you doing here? Come in." He cringed inwardly as his voice squeaked at the end of his words.

Though he thought he'd hidden it pretty well under his general social awkwardness and shyness around beautiful women, Spencer Reid had been nursing a deep and growing attraction for Emily – one that went well beyond friendly affection and respect for a coworker. Her being suddenly inside his house, looking as beautiful and intriguing as ever, staring into his eyes the way she sometimes did – as if trying to discern his thoughts before he spoke – was causing his heart to pound erratically beneath the cardigan he was wearing. Somehow, he didn't feel equipped to handle being alone with her without slipping up and making a fool of himself, especially on a night when he had already been feeling vulnerable and wishing he weren't so alone.

"Emily?" he prompted again, hoping if he let her take the lead and tell him what she needed, he would be less likely to start blabbering some stream of random trivia at her or grabbing her and pushing her up against the wall to kiss her ravenously – an idea that suddenly and vividly entered his brain in an uncharacteristic flash.

"Oh, right, what I'm doing here…" she started, then trailed off, clasping her fingers in front of her in the uncertain way he had often seen her fidget with her hands back when she had first joined the team, but not for some time now, not since she'd proved herself many times over and known she was one of them. "Well, Reid – I mean, Spencer – I just, well I…"

Reid had honestly never seen her look so flustered. Not by her awe-inducing ambassador mother, the most terrifying unsub, or even Hotch and Gideon's initial scrutiny and suspicion of her. "Hey, Emily, slow down. I'm not going anywhere. And you can call me Spence, if you want…" Now he was trailing off awkwardly, just as she had. He didn't know why he'd told her to call him Spence. No one did that except JJ. He'd once been pleased when he had imagined himself with JJ, but as that moment in time had obviously passed, he'd thought to throw that version of his name out there for her. He liked it, and Emily had seemed to be searching for something more personal than the way they all called each other by their last names at work.

Her fathomless, deep, dark eyes looked up at him, blinking in surprise. Obviously she had noticed, being the gifted profiler that she was, that only JJ called him that. For a moment, Reid found himself holding his breath, thinking he had given himself away. But then, she smiled, truly looking grateful and somehow more at ease at his words, "Thanks…Spence. I just needed to tell you something. And, silly as it seems, I didn't think it could wait."

"Why? What's wrong?" he asked quickly, concern for her distress mixing with his nerves at being alone with her and so close.

"No, no, it's nothing like that," she stepped forward, placing her hands on his forearms to calm him, and then jerking them away as if electrocuted. He felt the current too and reached out to catch her hands in his before she could snatch them back. "Nothing's wrong," she sputtered, "I just needed to talk to you."

"It's fine. I'm glad you came," he assured, pulling her over to the armchair he had vacated minutes before. "Now, take it easy here, let me get you some coffee, and then we can talk about whatever you want. I'd actually be really glad of the company."

"Spence, wait-" she pulled him back before he could walk away to fetch anything from the kitchen. When he turned back toward her, she pulled on his hand until he was leaning down to look into her face quizzically. "I don't need anything to drink, and I didn't really come just to hang out. I came to tell you that I'm tired of sitting in my house alone, tired of feeling like I have no family, and certainly tired of being so alone that I have no one I belong with – not even at Christmas. I thought you might understand. And m-maybe you'd want-" She bit her lip when her voice caught and didn't quite seem able to continue.

Reid finished for her, seating himself on the arm of her chair and slipping a hand behind her head, steadying as he leaned closer. "I do understand, Emily. You have no idea. But I didn't think I'd ever be sitting here staring right at an opportunity to fix things, for both of us. Incredible – We could have done this a long time ago." And without waiting even another minute, he leaned in, pulling her into his arms and leaning in over her. He let his lips take over hers, pressing gently and then gradually growing stronger, meshing perfectly with hers, meeting and answering the plea she'd offered and he'd returned. If he had it his way, this kiss would tell them both they wouldn't have to spend any more holidays alone, but would have someone to come home to from now on. Emily let out a pleased, breathless sigh, and Reid felt his heart soar as he continued ravishing her mouth with a skill he hadn't really known he possessed until finally coming into contact with her. Her hands fisted into the material of his sweater and he felt a tremor run down his spine as he eased into the chair over her.

Outside the window, the snow looked whiter, the stars more bright, and he thought that he finally knew what Christmas should be like.