Author's Note: I do not own Criminal Minds.


Chapter Four – Congratulations

I'm still not completely sure what I expected to happen the next time that I saw you, but what happened in reality fell very short from what I had hoped.

I was surprised to see Will sitting at the table in the bar with you, Morgan and Garcia as I arrived, and I felt a sudden wave of nausea pass through me.

You didn't look at me as I sat down; you didn't even look at me as an excited Garcia told me the good news. And when your eyes did eventually meet mine, there was that smile again; laced with guilt and subtly shrouded in an apology that I wasn't certain was meant for him or for me.

I kept my eyes on you as I felt my entire world crash down around me; my ignorance desperately trying to digest the information. You're marrying him? I wanted to scream at you, yet becoming suddenly very aware of Morgan and Garcia, and even Will's eyes bearing down on me, waiting for me to say something; I composed myself.

"I.. Uh.. Congratulations." My eyes where still locked firmly on yours as I forced the words to leave my mouth with a smile; my years of experience with body language making that smile far more sincere than it was even close to. I think part of me was waiting for someone to tell me that it was all a joke, but the punch line never came – perhaps I was the punch line.

I spent the rest of that night watching as you played out your fairytale; dancing with Will, smiling as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, smiling even more as Garcia and Morgan brought more celebratory drinks to the table.

God, I hate that smile. I'm not sure what made me angrier; the fact that they couldn't see through it, or the fact that you were putting it on in the first place.

You barely looked at me, but when you did, that smile faded. You looked almost relieved; eye contact with me allowing you to stop the pretense for a brief second. But I wasn't willing to be part of it, and needed to get out of this now very claustrophobic room.

I felt anger rush through me as I splashed water on my face, and lifted my head to find that mine wasn't the only reflection in the mirror. I spun around, wholly intent on putting you in your place, but I didn't – as usual; I didn't. I vented that anger in a different way.

Your body met the wall with a resounding thud as I crushed my lips against yours; and you let me. I twisted your wrist in my hand as my knee forcefully nudged your thighs apart; and you let me. My thigh ground against you as I unzipped your jeans and pushed my hand into your panties; and you let me.

But then you whimpered, thrust back against my fingers, whispering your pleas – and it was enough to shake me from my haze of anger and lust.

I stared at you, willing you to say something, anything; but you didn't. You couldn't even look at me, and there was that anger again. "Do you ever feel anything!"

I didn't mean to slam you back against the wall as hard as I did, but as I fled the bathroom, I quite frankly didn't care - I just wanted to be as far away from you as possible.

I barely made it past my front door before I broke down. How the fuck can she be doing this?

My entire world spun as I sat on the cold floor with my back against the door. And though almost every part of me screamed that this was my cue to walk away, and stay away, that tiny part of me that craved for something more, that tiny part of me that craved you, was telling me over and over that this wasn't happening - that it was a test, that I needed to fight for you.