Title: Effortlessly (2 of 12)
Pairing: Geekywood (Lila/Reid)
Author's Notes: song prompt - You're the Reason I Come Home by Ron Pope.
The whole point of this was try to be more descriptive, not rely on dialogue as much. I continued to keep it going, seeing how I enjoyed writing the first one so much. This one does have more dialogue, but it's still a lot less than usual. The dialogue is needed to keep the story going, rather than being the story. At least, that's what I'm hoping for. Please give honest responses, criticisms and even specific spots where you think that don't work or really work - I'm trying to become better. Thank you and enjoy.
This takes place 8 months after the first part and happens a day or so after Elle resigns from the team in 2.06 The Boogeyman.
Lila is visiting when he finds out the news about Elle leaving the BAU. He hears it from Hotch, though, and the fact hurts more than it should. The day is long and he goes home early. She smiles largely when she sees him arrive, getting off to couch to greet him, but pauses short. He slides his bag of his shoulder, dropping it near the door and walks to his bedroom. She follows, curiously. It's not until he's seated that she steps up to him. He doesn't look at her. He's not in the mood for company anymore. All he wants to do is lay down and go to sleep. All he can think about is how his talk with Elle before she pulled the gun on a man. He should have stopped it, he should have gotten her help. He should have done something and he did nothing and now she was gone.
Lila reaches out and raises his chin, but he shifts his eyes away from. He doesn't want to see her blue eyes filled with worry or the scrunched up eyebrow and lip look she gets when she's confused. He doesn't want to feel her soft hands on his cheek or her lips against his forehead - and yet, he feels both.
"Tell me what's wrong." She says, softly, melodic. He doesn't know if it's just a natural ability or the acting classes she has taken, but she can make her voice so soothing that everything that hurts decreases. He turns his head away from her, looking to the side. He doesn't want to explain. He doesn't want to feel better. He just wants to sit in his guilt and try and figure out everything he did wrong so he doesn't do it again. So he doesn't lose another person. But Lila's warm hand moves against his cheek, fingers pressing against the chin as she nudges his face back to her. He raises his eyes to hers, trying to give his best annoyed look, but it falters when he reaches the dark blue gaze.
"You're scaring me." She says, voice still soft, but with a hint of worry and a dash of fear. He swallows his pain for the moment and stands, his hands moving up against her biceps to her shoulder until they rest against her neck, his thumb brushing against the skin.
"I'm sorry." he says, matching her tone. "Bad day."
Her arms wrap around his waist and she tugs him closer, pressing her body into his. She looks up at him through her lashes, still worried. "Can I help?" She asks and for the first time since before Hotch told him the news at the morning conference, a hint of a smile makes its way to his lips. He kisses her forehead, his lips lingering on the skin longer than normal.
"You are." He says and she smiles before she rests her head under his, nuzzled against his collarbone. She stays there, hugging him close until he makes the first move, taking a step backwards. She looks up at him again, the hint of worry still in her eyes, and he gives her a real smile, takes her hand, and leads her back into the living room to whatever she was doing before he came home.
Criminal Minds || Effortlessly
She rests her feet on his lap, a script in her head and pencil between her teeth. He had already read through the script and he knows that some time soon, when she's ready, he will help her go through her lines. She'll forget a few and he'll tell her them which will cause a series of an events: an eye roll, a poke to the chest (in this position, with her foot), and a mutter about his 'god damn memory' before she'll smile and kiss him. The whole thing will then start over the next time she stammers over her lines and he corrects her.
Soft jazz music plays in the background. Lila hates the silence and always turns something on from his collection. He watches her toes as they keep the beat. Her nails are painted blue, which he still doesn't understand the reason for, but it amuses her to do so, so he doesn't argue with it. Her legs are tan and toned, the bronzed skin contrasting against the white short cotton shorts she wears.
"The only time you're happy is when you're hurting people." She says and he turns his attention away from how her shirt fits tightly to her face.
"What?"
"It's the line. The only-"
"Elle resigned." He interrupts.
She lowers the script to look at him. A frown upon her features. She swings her legs on his lap, tucking one underneath her as she moves into a sitting position. "I thought she was cleared for that shooting."
"She was." His fingers tap against his knee as he thinks about it before he stands up. It's been on his mind all day. He can't get it out of his head. He begins to pace as his mind begins to race. He knows he should have done something. After their talk, he should have went to Hotch. He should have told Gideon that something was wrong. He turns back to her, seeing the worry on her face. He wasn't going to bring this up. They only had a few more days together. He shakes his head, he wasn't going to spend it, focusing on work. Lila didn't deserve that. "Say the line again."
She hesitates, looking at him. It's evident in her face that she wants to continue to the conversation about Elle, that she's worried about him. She bites at her bottom lip as she stares at him for a moment longer before she tears her eyes away from him and move back to the script. She runs a hand through her hair with one hair and reaches for the booklet of papers with the other. She stands as she grabs his, the tight royal blue shirt clinging to her bust. She licks her lips, reading over the lines quickly before she makes her way up to him.
"I know you're upset about Elle leaving." She says, looking at him.
"That's not the line." He says, staring at her.
She rolls her eyes before she raises her eyebrows. She steps towards him, close enough to touch him. Her hands move against his shoulders. One hand runs through the back of his hair, tugging on the shortened locks. She hadn't been able to hide her displeasure for his haircut when she first saw him and it hasn't changed. Her nose scrunches as her fingers play with it. He had been confused by it, figuring the more masculine haircut would have more to her appeal, but the look of her face was undeniable. Although, if he's honest, She had been running her fingers through his hair more often lately than in the previous 8 months they had spent together - and that was a plus. He feels her nail against the back of his neck as her hand moves back to his shoulder. He lowers his gaze to match hers. The raised eyebrow look is back, her way of telling him that she knows it's bothering him and that denying it will get him no where. He loves her expressions, each unique and telling him exactly what he needs to know without words. He's not very good at detecting most emotions in people, unless they are very pronounced, but she's different. He studies her, knows all her ticks. Knows that one eyebrow cocked is amused and two is something completely different. He knows the way she holds her cup in the morning expresses how she feels (two fingers curled in the handle with a thumb against the brim is good and usually is followed with humming. Three curled in the handle, with her thumb resting against her pointer means she wasn't in a good mood and that it's best to leave her alone until she curls up against him while he reads the paper on the couch.)
"Spence." She says, pulling his attention back to the matter at a hand.
He leans down and brushes his lips against hers. "I'm fine." He says and she sighs and pulls away from him, moving to the kitchen.
"Do you want a cup of tea?" She asks and he shakes his head, moving back to the couch.
It's not even that he doesn't want to talk about it with her - it's the fact he doesn't know how. He knows that the situation were caused by a series of events, in which could have been changed by his own actions. Morgan had told him that it wasn't his fault - that Elle chose to do what she did and Spencer knew he was right. But he also knew that Elle had been through a traumatic experience four months earlier and they had placed her into an situation that would bring that up without her having gone through any type of therapy. They were profilers, studiers of behavior and psychology. They all should have known better. Especially him, with his multiple degrees and his high intelligence. If he could not use both to his advantage when it came to his friends, what was the use of it at all.
Lila comes back, a cup in her hand and sits next to him. She lifts her feet off the ground, resting them against the edge of the coffee table before turning on the tv, silently. He looks down at the cup in her hand, seeing three fingers looped in the handle.
Criminal Minds || Effortlessly
He leans against the door frame, looking at the woman that lays in his bed. She's back to reading her script, flipping through the pages. She looks up over the paper for a second, acknowledging that he's there, before her eyes drop back to the page. She's still annoyed. He understands. They have had this argument before. After the Fisher King case, he had done the same thing, feeling guilty over the fact his letters had been the cause. She had tried to get him to talk to her, to open up and he hadn't - he still hadn't. He had dealt with it though. Elle got better and he moved on, and now, here they were, in a similar situation. She only wanted to help him and yet again, he was pushing her away. But, it wasn't her problem to deal with. It wasn't her burden to bear. He didn't want to put those things onto her, didn't want her to have to deal with it. He continues to watch her until she sets her script down against her stomach and looks at him. Her tongue darts against her bottom lip as a hint of a frown comes a long with a furrowed brow.
"C'mere." She says, her tone pleading, and he does.
He drops a knee on the bed first before the other. She moves the script to the end table and he moves towards her. He rests his head against her stomach, curling into himself. He closes his eyes as her hand moves against his back. He lets the smell of lavender soap and the fresh linen smell of his laundry detergent fill his nose. The jazz music still plays in the living room, but its much more muted in the bedroom that rests at the end of a small hallway. Still, the saxophone plays in tempo with her breathing, his head rising and falling with each inhale and exhale. Her hand moves from his back to his head, running her fingers through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp. It all makes him feel safe. Surrounded in her warmth, he can feel the tenderness in her touch. He keeps his eyes closed as he speaks.
"It's my fault." He says before he opens his eyes, to look up at her. Her eyes are on him, watching him as her fingers continue to comb through his hair. She locks eyes with him for a moment and he breathes her in again, lowers his eyes again, and continues. He shares it all, speaking until his voice cracks. He breathes out, slowly, a weight lifted off his shoulders. He feels better until he looks back at her. Her eyes are glazed with unshed tears and his heart races, wondering if he spoke too much, if he shouldn't have spoken at all. Her hand moves from his hair to the collar of his shirt. She tugs and he moves, resting his weight on his elbows above her. Her hands grasp his face, placing a hard kiss on the mouth and when she pulls back, she locks eyes with him again.
"From now, you tell me everything."
And he nods.