Hours passed and the BAU team successfully formed a workable profile of the unsub kidnapping the children in Wales. The Captain immediately relayed the description to Toshiko, who in turn communicated it to what Spencer assumed were Torchwood's field agents – or, at the very least, Torchwood's liaison with the Cardiff police force. He tried not to think too much about it, understanding that if he did so, he may stumble upon something he did not want to know.
Outside the government, beyond the police. Okay.
His great intellect can be curse, sometimes. Solving puzzles and making sense of intrigues was his thing, but to know more about his friend's secret government agency in Wales was not something he wanted. Call it instinct, but Spencer preferred to remain as oblivious as his colleagues were on the matter.
"That's the fifth cup of coffee I've seen you make," commented the Captain as he approached Spencer. "What are you doing here all by your lonesome? I'd ask if there's something on your mind but, knowing you, there's always something running the cogs in that amazing head of yours."
Spencer stepped aside to give the Captain some room to make his own cup of coffee. As the man waited for the percolator, Spencer turned to lean on the counter and nursed his caffeinated sugar, much like he did nine years ago in a bar during a Super Bowl weekend. He had water on the rocks that the Captain thankfully exchanged for some light beer. It all seemed a lifetime ago, though Spencer liked to think he was still the same person then as he was now.
"I'm not a machine, you know," he said. "It may seem like I am sometimes, churning out answers to equations even a computer cannot fully figure out, but…"
"I never said you were one." The Captain met Spencer's eyes deliberately, searching for something. "I know it's only been a day and I can't very well make an informed assumption, but... Spencer, are you happy here?"
The man in question looked down and studied his coffee. "This isn't about my relationship with my team. I can't think of a place I'd rather be," he confessed. "I know my capabilities are a definite advantage to any team I ever decide to work with; my colleagues are aware of that. Working with the BAU utilizes my skills in such a way that I can be of help." He smiled as he said, "I put bad guys away. I can't ask for anything more than that."
The Captain remained unconvinced. "You've been given such a wonderful gift, Spencer, and you have an inquisitive mind. I can see you doing very well as a researcher. In fact, I can see you do anything you set your mind to."
"I see your point, but let's just I was inspired to do what I do now by someone I met in college. He became a very dear friend of mine, actually. He made me realize that I can do a lot with I've been given. Yes, I was handpicked by Gideon to join the BAU, but I've always wanted a career where I can directly make the world a better place. This friend, he made me believe that my existence wasn't a fluke; that I have a responsibility not just to myself, but to those I can help with what I am capable of doing."
The corners of the Captain's mouth twitched into a fond smile. "There's nothing wrong with being yourself," he agreed. "I'm glad to hear you say that."
"It took me while to wrap my head around the concept, but yes, I got there eventually."
"Make sure you thank your friend, then. For helping you come to this realization, I mean."
Spencer tilted his head to the side in mock thought. "How do you suppose I do that? I am very grateful for his influence."
The Captain smirked. "I might have an idea or two."
The kiss lasted for far longer that Spencer planned for, and was much gentler than what he expected from his overly sexualized friend. One of the Captain's hands was raised to cup one side of Spencer's face, his fingers dipping into his hair and delicately massaging his scalp. The exchange was chaste, yet it was enough to spur a light colouring on Spencer's cheeks.
"You kissed me back," the Captain remarked, surprised.
Spencer brought his coffee cup to his lips to hide his grin. The movement caused the Captain to remove his hand from face, and Spencer watched it fall from the corner of his eye. "Nine years is a long time to not hear from someone," he said simply, looking straight ahead into the oblivious bullpen. "I missed you."
The Captain crossed his arms and leaned on the counter, mimicking Spencer's stance. "I gathered as much," he said smugly, "but we've never kissed before so you certainly can't have missed that."
"I missed the opportunity," Spencer clarified, shrugging. "I was having an identity crisis the last time I saw you, and I was so infatuated with someone else I didn't comprehend that I had crush on you until you were gone."
The coffee maker beeped, signalling that it was done percolating. The Captain either chose to ignore it or just did not notice. "And what about now?" he asked.
"I'm afraid, Captain," Spencer pushed off the counter, "that a crush is just a crush. I'll be at my desk if you need me."
{break}
Spencer was once again going through consult files (this time for the United States and the United States only) when the Captain, balancing a mug of coffee in one hand and a stale donut in the other, positioned a wheeled chair beside his desk and declared: "Nine years is a long time to wait."
"It is," Spencer said inattentively, scanning the file in his hands, "though only subjectively. Three thousand, two hundred and eighty five days is indeed a long time to wait for, let's say, your meal to cook. It's not, however, too long for when you're weaning a Loxodonta africana. The average weaning age for an African bush elephant is forty eight to a hundred and eight months."
The Captain shot the younger man a look that suggested his patience was wearing slightly thin. Spencer, in turn, only sighed and murmured, "I know what you're thinking."
"Pray tell, what am I thinking, Spencer?" the Captain asked sarcastically.
Spencer chose to finish his read-through before speaking again: "You seem to be under the misconception that I spent the past decade of my life pining after some –" he paused, flushed pink, then cleared his throat, "pining after yours truly. That might be the case, but I did have far more important things to occupy my time with. I studied. I attended lectures. I received my degrees in Mathematics, Engineering, and Chemistry, and acquired BAs in Psychology and Sociology. I joined the FBI Academy, trained to become an agent, and finally became a member of the BAU. One could argue that in the past decade, I became a self-actualized individual. Abraham Maslow must be very proud of me," he finished dryly.
The Captain regarded Spencer carefully, his eyebrows knitting together in thoughtfulness. "And you're happy being here," he confirmed.
"I can't see myself doing anything else," Spencer answered honestly. He reclined on his chair and reached for his lukewarm cup of coffee. It didn't take much effort for a profiler to surmise that the Captain's insistence on his happiness stemmed from a much deeper level than regular friendship. "Tell me about your team, Captain," he requested softly. "Working with Toshiko was quite a pleasant experience. I wouldn't mind collaborating with her again."
The Captain, knowing when a subject is exhausted, threw his head back in a lazy chuckle. "She's an absolute gem," he admitted. "I don't know what my team would do without her. My team, there're five of us: Tosh, Gwen, Owen, Ianto and me. We're an odd bunch, but we work well together. There's this one time…"
Spencer listened attentively as the Captain recounted a story involving Gwen when she was still a new member. She was the newest addition to the team and was, from what Spencer could gather, Torchwood's personal connection with the Cardiff police, having been a former officer herself. Toshiko, of course, was the technical expert, Owen was the medical doctor, and Ianto appeared to be an administrative assistant.
"You all seem very close," Spencer acknowledged. "Torchwood Cardiff, the worst kept secret in town."
The Captain froze, only to relax a second later and meet Spencer's calm smile. "I suppose Tosh told you all about Torchwood," he said.
"Only the bare necessities," assured Spencer. "I find Samuel Butler's words to be apropos in this juncture: he says 'Look before you leap for as you sow, ye are like to reap.'"
"Wise words there, Spencer," the Captain said. He took a bite of his donut and sipped his now cool coffee, only to choke and grimace exaggeratedly. "This is a dreadful excuse for a coffee! If Ianto were here, he would throw this muck out the window and insist on making a new batch himself."
At the back of his mind, Spencer couldn't help but picture a Welshman manhandling the BAU's coffee maker and throwing it out of the nearest window. The scene was pure conjecture but oddly enough, Spencer enjoyed the frivolity of the thought. "Ianto sounds like quite a character," he commented.
"He makes the best coffee I have ever had the fortune to taste in my lifetime," the Captain gushed. "He'd smack me a new one if he ever hears me say this, but he's the fuel that keeps Torchwood running. His coffee can send you to Nirvana, I assure you. He stays mostly in the Hub doing all the office work," the Captain frowned, "but he's capable enough in the field. I should really take him out more."
Eyebrows rising at the Captain's choice of words, Spencer teased, "You mean out on missions."
The Captain grinned. "Of course, what else could I mean by that?"
"It's been nine years but I still know you, Captain. Your own name is a pick up line."
What followed was a playful banter reminiscent of the ones their friendship had been based on. Spencer found that there was something enchanting about conversing with a dear friend with whom he never had to hide his true self from, a friend who accepted his idiosyncrasies and was not cowed by his abnormally large IQ. Spencer tried not to become too nostalgic about it, and instead focused on the impromptu lecture on Abraham Maslow and his psychological theories.
An hour later, when the Captain received a call from the Torchwood hub and Spencer was once again left alone at his desk, he thought that perhaps the Captain felt the same way he did. Spencer was not blind; he saw the change in the Captain's demeanour the moment the device on his wrist beeped and he rushed to the conference room to video conference with Toshiko. With Torchwood he was a leader, but with Spencer he was himself – or as much as himself that the Captain wanted to reveal to Spencer. It was one of the conclusions Spencer had of the man that brought comfort instead of trepidation.
"I've never seen you like this before."
Spencer was rustled from his musings, which can be somewhat disconcerting given how deep in his contemplation he seemed to be. "What do you mean?" he asked. "I don't believe my behaviour has been a deviation from the usual."
"Reid," Prentiss admonished good-heartedly, "don't think I didn't see you lock lips with Jack back in the break room. I may not have been in the BAU long, but I know what I saw and what I saw was not how my colleague Dr Reid behaves."
"Prentiss, I –" There was no stopping the bright red blush on Spencer's face.
"Oh, relax," laughed Prentiss. "I'm sure I was the only one who saw, though I don't doubt that if Garcia gets a wind of this, she will hack into the security cameras."
Spencer's eyes widened.Garcia. How could he forget? "Prentiss," he tried to speak, but the woman ploughed on with what she had to say.
"Look, I'm not saying your recent conduct a bad thing," she said. "I'm just telling how it is. So what if you're acting a little different today, yeah?"
"I am acting like myself," Spencer insisted. He met Prentiss's gaze, only to look away again. His eyes landed on the Captain, half hidden by the conference room blinds and still very much deep in a transatlantic conversation. All at once, his worries about Garcia and security cameras and the infamous FBI rumour mill disappeared from his mind. "I'm worried about him," he confessed quietly. "When you look at the Captain, what do you see?"
Prentiss sent Spencer a confused glance. "I thought we weren't allowed to profile each other," she questioned. "Jack may not be part of the team but we've worked on his consult case. And, he's your friend."
"Which is why I need a second opinion," reasoned Spencer. "I find I can be biased in my interpretations, and there might be something I missed due to my preconceptions about him. A fresh set of eyes might be beneficial to me."
Silence met Spencer's words, and he watched closely as Prentiss mentally went through the pros and cons of psychoanalyzing the man ballsy enough to wear a World War Two greatcoat in modern day America.
"He's an alpha male," Prentiss said eventually. "The way he acted in the conference room earlier today tells us that he's used to being in charge, but knows also when to back down. He's confident, smart – he adapted easily to our methods even though it's painfully clear he's an action-oriented man. Flying all the way down here just to ask for our help must have killed him, or at the very least knocked his ego down a peg or two. You call him 'Captain', which mans he has military experience. He's seen the worst humanity has to offer yet he still retains a love of life that is very... captivating. He flirted with you in front of everyone, Reid," she nudged the man in question lightly on the shoulder, "which means he's very open with his sexuality. He dresses outlandishly perhaps to hide a part of himself, and it might even indicate that he's torn between at least two contrasting thing: who wears a suspender and a belt at the same time? It's like he's lost searching for a part of himself and – this is mostly conjecture, Reid – he's looking in the wrong direction."
Spencer listened attentively to his fellow profiler's analysis of his friend, nodding every now and then when he felt Prentiss has really hit the hammer home. He laughed outright when she described the Captain's sexuality as "very open." That was certainly one way to label his omnisexual tendencies.
"You know him far better than I do," Prentiss pointed out. "Aside for my last statement, how accurate was I?"
"Quite accurate, actually," Spencer admitted. "The Captain does lead his own team back in Cardiff, and he used to serve in the military. I think his greatcoat is as big a part of his personality as his charm is, though I think he hides behind it just as much as he uses it to gain attention and control the situation. As for him being lost, looking for something in the wrong direction… it seems more likely to me that he's waiting for something. I've never really noticed before, but he seems to have been waiting for a very long time."
Prentiss accepted Spencer's additional comments and returned to her own desk. It looked like Spencer needed some time alone, and she was more than willing to give the young man some space.
A/N: Again, this is an unbeta'd chapter. Forgive any mistakes, and I hope you enjoyed reading.