Disclaimer: I do not claim to own the wonderful characters in this fic, the song lyrics (The Beatles do!)or Catcher in the Rye.
MAYBE, BABY
-A Criminal Minds fanfic by: Honour Society
"Oh please, say to me,
you'll let me be your man.
And please, say to me,
you'll let me hold your hand."
Dr. Spencer Reid's heart stops beating the moment JJ declares, with a hesitant smile on her tired face, that she is with child. For a moment, he thinks he's going to go into cardiac arrest which would be very awkward and probably not the congratulations that the blond agent was looking for. A fake, practiced smile for occasions such as this pulls up the corners of his lips, without affecting any other part of his face. Wordlessly, he gives her a pathetic hug before falling into step with Hotchner.
"Let's give them a moment." Hotch nods his head in the general direction of JJ and Will, his luggage dropped at his feet.
"Sure," Spencer replies, brown eyes downcast as he makes his way to the elevator with the elder agent beside him. "What floor?"
"Fourth," the older agent answers, his face expressionless. As per usual. He fixes the lapel of his dark grey suit, adjusting his tie, avoiding the same smalltalk and office gossip as Spencer.
"Oh." Spencer steps forward into the wood-panelled elevator, mumbling, "I got, uh, the third." This is so awkward, he thinks, assuming Hotchner is equally as uncomfortable. But he says nothing more until the elevator pauses and opens up on the third floor. He idly remembers that JJ's room is beside his; he hopes Will goes home or something. He can't imagine having to listen to...
Key-card in hand, Spencer quickly swipes it through and is admitted to his hotel room. Nice place. Better than the cheap motels they usually stay in; the other place availible in the small towns which seem to have more sadistic killers than places like New York City and Seattle.
A queen-size bed greets him, the tacky floral duvet screaming Granny picked this out for me, and he collapses with exhaust. Of course, he knows sleep is out of the question. With a case like this — dangerous UnSubs targeting random passers-by — how could anyone get to sleep? Tiredly, he draws the curtains closed and relaxes on the matching floral loveseat. Book in hand — Catcher in the Rye, a favourite from his high school days — he puts all his energy towards J.D. Salinger's classic.
If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth...
His chest rises and falls steadily as Agent Jennifer "JJ" Jareau tip-toes into the room of her colleague. Still dressed like a nerd — in the style Marie Claire magazine calls "geek chic," heavy emphasis on the geek — his hair is even more mussed-up than usual. She smiles at how long it's gotten. It almost seems like he hasn't bothered getting a trim since Elle left...
JJ briefly glances at her face in the mirror hanging on his wall. Her face seems tired, like that of a forty-year-old dying of cancer or some other tragic and incurable disease. Pregnancy is not supposed to be like this.
She picks up his copy of the case file. It feels too heavy. And she knows it's only getting heavier.
Abruptly, Spencer blinks back to reality. "Wh — What? JJ?"
A flush creeps up JJ's neck. "Yes?" An innocent look paints her features. "Is something wrong, Spence?"
"Uh. Not really. Except — What are you doing here?" he stutters, looking from the case file in her hands to the simple camisole and grey cotton boys'-style shorts she's wearing.
JJ waves said case file in the air. "Left my copy at the station." She shrugs her shoulders. "Too late to go down there. Didn't want to bother anyone..."
"So you decided to bother me?" Spencer resists adding, Am I not someone? He rubs the sleep from his eyes and straightens his posture. "Well. Might as well try to do some work, then."
"You don't mind?"
"No. It's fine."
"You've got everything memorized, haven't you?"
"Uh-huh."
JJ knows she should leave. Her heart is pounding with the usual combination of adrenaline and something she can't quite name. Whatever it is, she feels this way with Spence all the time. When she first met Will, she felt this way too. Her blue eyes widen as she watches him pull up a chair for her adjacent to his own.
A rush of pain overcomes her and JJ is forced to acknowledge the tiny creature growing inside of her. She wonders how Spencer will act around the baby. Like an uncle or father figure? Or maybe he'll completely ignoring JJ's new child, wishing that the baby was his own. She is no fool. JJ knows how he felt about her. How he still feels. The look on his face when she shared the "good news," well, that confirmed everything.
"You'll be a great mother." Spencer smiles sadly, and his long fingers graze her stomach. She closes her eyes at his touch and lets out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.
JJ tries to smile back, but she can't quite. Lately, her grins have been futile attempts at normal human feeling. Nothing feels right. She can recall with startling, Reid-esque accuracy, the exact place where Will's mother's ring has been left. On the nightstand back in her hotel room. Tucked inside an unassuming velvet box. An ivory ribbon tied around it. A stack of old magazines supplied by the hotel are piled beside it. "Thanks," she say, gently placing her hand over Reid's own, trying to feel what he feels. Or maybe she's trying to feel like a mother. Either way, she feels nothing.
"He's a lucky guy."
She gives another pathetic almost-sorta-smile. The blonde assumes Spencer is talking about her unborn child. She can't imagine having a son. Then again, she can't imagine a daughter either.
It isn't until JJ has excused herself, case file tucked under her arm, and is standing in the hallway with her keycard in hand that she realizes he wasn't talking about her baby at all. He was talking about Will. Oh.