A/N: I love my reviewers. You are all amazing people and that is why this one is extra-long :D Oh, and guess which two characters finally meet in this one…?
Disclaimer: I dream, but as of yet no cigar.
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Something about you now
I can't quite figure out
Everything she does is beautiful
Everything she does is right
Cause it's you and me and all of the people
With nothing to do, nothing to lose
And it's you and me and all of the people
And I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of you.
You and Me, by Lifehouse.
XXXX
In one sense, Eden actually got lucky the next week.
Hotch and his team were called away on the Wednesday to consult on a case in small-town Oklahoma (which inspired her, in hopes of removing any association with murder from the place, to watch the musical for probably the fifth time in her life. Jack had joined her and for the past few days she had woken him with a delightful outburst of 'Oh, what a beautiful morning…' She began to wonder how long he would continue to like her if she kept it up but resolved to stop soon, in fear of the answer.)
The job kept him until Saturday morning, meaning his return came in the middle of the day, which left Eden and Jack the perfect amount of time to buy the meats, the salad, buffet spread, the cake and the presents and sufficiently hide them.
Though she had a feeling attempting to hide something from a profiler, in his own home, might have been akin to fighting a polar bear with a rubber chicken.
It just wasn't going to end in her favour.
But maybe, just maybe, against all conceivable odds, they could get away with it…
"So did you want me to leave around twelve tomorrow so you can lead the guests to the party area without interruption, or were you just planning to distract me as they jumped the back gate?"
Or maybe not.
Eden groaned, throwing her head back in exasperation, hearing the distant sounds of Jack in the bath, as per Saturday night ritual.
"How long have you known?"
Hotch looked up from his paper, sat at the kitchen table as Eden leaned against the work surface facing him, pouting and swirling the coffee in her hands.
"Since you sent the team cookies. You're not as subtle as you think you are."
"Hey, we can't all be superhuman, ok?" She poked her tongue out at him and he shook his head with a smile. "But you don't mind, right? I know you said birthdays aren't really your thing and all, but I only invited your team, and the weather's set to be amazing and there'll be a barbecue because barbecues are all manly and primal and meat-centric and I figured you'd like that because the Darwinism we have to study in accordance with its effect on Victorian literature in class talks about how Alpha Males are all about bringing home the bacon and you would literally be cooking the bacon so-"
"Eden, stop. Breathe." Hotch demanded as Eden's nerves manifested into almost incoherent babbling and her face became pink and flustered. She took a deep breath as Hotch's slightly concerned expression morphed into amusement. "I don't mind. I think it's very thoughtful of you and Jack to arrange this whole thing and I appreciate your efforts." Her face melted into sublime relief and her teeth stopped gnawing on her bottom lip immediately. "Just as long as it's low-key."
Eden nodded emphatically, "Entirely low-key; no fireworks or anything." Mainly because she knew not to trust herself near flames or semi-explosives. Eden was clumsy. It would not end well.
"And by low-key, I mean get rid of the piñata." He raised his eyes, smirking.
Eden looked back, flabbergasted. She's hidden the damn thing in the shed! The shed! Aaron hadn't even been in there since his return! "You're really not human, are you?"
She only received a knowing smile in response as Hotch went back to reading his paper and Eden stood there, still in awe. The question simply hung in the air and for the first time, Eden felt as though she wasn't the only crazy person in the Hotchner household.
She grinned at the thought.
XXXX
Originally, Eden had planned to rely on Derek and, pathetically, little Jack to introduce her to the rest of the guests entering the house on Sunday, especially since Derek had already agreed to simply stay after their training session and help her set the garden up for festivities. She had to admit that she was glad Aaron had found out in that respect, because she knew things were about to be a lot less awkward, since Derek would have known her a combination of about five hours at that point, and Jack had only been alive for five years.
So it was a blessing in disguise, really; for everyone involved.
Thankfully, Eden wasn't too nervous about meeting Aaron's team: she enjoyed social situations (for the most part) and she knew how much they all meant to Hotch, both individually and collectively. He talked about them all the time, though Eden wasn't sure he even realised he was doing it.
It was sweet. And unsurprising.
Because Aaron didn't need to say a word for Eden to know that they'd been through hell and back together. And if that doesn't bond people, nothing will.
Eden had showered quickly after her defence session, attempting to ignore the ache in her muscles and burn in her abdomen, Derek having acted a little too harshly in revenge for her plan to add a little more than muscle to his bones (something she dubbed her 'MoreThanMorgan' plan.) All in good fun, apparently.
Derek needed a serious redefinition of the word 'fun' if he truly believed that.
Sadist.
And yet still she found him sneaking some of her homemade cupcakes when she'd arrived back downstairs, curls darker while still a little damp, Eden being too much of fidget to sit still long enough to blow-dry all of her hair.
She laughed and tapped the hand surreptitiously reaching over the garden table for another, tutting as she did. "Stop it! You'll spoil your dinner if you carry on!"
Hotch laughed as he carried another chair from the kitchen and onto the patio, "Pot, kettle, black, Eden." Derek grinned as Eden's hands found her hips in indignation.
"Do as I say, not as I do! I'm young; I'm supposed to be reckless." She turned to face Derek with a mock sympathetic expression, "You on the other hand, my friend, should really start looking after your arteries. It's getting to that time." She patted his stomach teasingly, knowing she'd only find solid abs but faking the feel of a little chub instead, "The middle-aged spread will set in soon enough!"
Hotch shook his head as Derek quirked an eyebrow, "You know I don't need a training mat to take you out, Princess."
Eden threw her head back in a laugh as she recovered the tray of cakes, "For the time being, but you're about three cupcakes away from an addiction, and then the only viable threat you can use is one that involves you sitting on me. And that would be murder. And then Hotch would have to put you in prison, and that is a lot of paperwork – is that really a gift you wanna give him on his birthday, Hercules? Paperwork? Really? Shame on you!"
Shaking his head, Derek stepped away from the food table, "Hotch, you know you have a basket-case living with you, right?" He called and Hotch grinned as he steered an overly-active Jack away from the barbecue, which had yet to be turned on. Better safe than sorry.
"I'd figured it out."
Eden shrugged, "It's why I fit in so well." She looked again at the spread of food before her, which spanned a good ten feet by four, and worried her lower lip. She looked from Derek to Hotch, concerned, "Do you think this will be enough for everyone?"
Derek chuckled in disbelief and Hotch just looked at her, amused, "You kidding, Princess?"
Hotch agreed, "We haven't even cooked the meat yet. You did just invite the team, right? Not the entire Bureau?"
"Because we look prepared to feed them all." Derek followed and the two men exchanged laughing glances.
Eden shrugged, resisting the urge to cross her arms, when Jack came up to her and leant with his back against the front of her legs, head settled at her lower stomach. She ran a gentle hand through his sandy hair and sighed, relaxing. "You're right: everything's perfect." And she smiled again.
The doorbell rang. Eden looked at her watch. It was 1:50, though she supposed when something involved the boss, workers had a natural instinct to be early. Habit of a lifetime. Jack took off at full throttle towards the door and Hotch laughed and followed quickly behind, while Eden readjusted the shades on top of her head habitually. Derek moved in beside her and threw a bicep across her shoulders comfortingly.
"They're gonna love you, Princess, no need to fidget."
She smiled up at him, surprised by the knot in her stomach and wondered what it was that her instincts were trying to tell her, exactly. She wasn't normally so anxious about meeting people, and this sudden onslaught of worry was unnerving. "Even if I go into hyper-nerve mode and start my incoherent babbling?"
Derek chuckled, "Even if your voice reaches decibels only cats can understand." Eden grinned gratefully and leaned into him a little, accepting and thanking him for his comfort, "And if all else fails, just point them to the dessert section. Nobody's gonna say no to that."
Eden laughed, just as Hotch and Jack reappeared in the garden, accompanied by two women, both attractive in entirely different manners, and David Rossi, whom Eden remembered briefly having met the day of her interview. He approached her and Eden parted from Derek as he moved to greet the women and she stepped forward to say her hellos to David.
Hotch stood by his side, his own sunglasses perched on his face and casual t-shirt a world away from Rossi's cream dress-shirt, turned up to the elbows, just as the latter had chosen jeans, as opposed to Aaron's khakis. But both wore similarly relaxed expressions, and Rossi smiled as he took her hand in a small shake and placed a kiss on her cheek.
"You remember Eden, David." Hotch introduced and David smiled, hands settling on his hips.
"How could I forget? You doing ok, kiddo?"
Eden grinned, "Better than ok."
"You sure?" He grinned, teasingly, "Hotch here isn't being too hard on you, is he? He can be a real hard-ass sometimes, especially to the young ones. A little… anal-retentive, shall we say?" Eden laughed in reply but shook her head as Aaron rolled his eyes, though nobody could really see it behind his shades.
"No, we won't say, thank you David." He answered for her, looking between Eden and Rossi. The latter smiled like a cat.
"Whatever you like, Boss; it is your birthday, after all." He turned his attention back to Eden, "Have you met any of the others yet?"
"Just Hercules over there," She gestured to Derek and Rossi nodded in understanding, "He's my self-defence teacher… though after this morning's workout, I think I might need someone to teach me to defend myself against him, too. My body will never recover."
"That brutal?"
"Like Prometheus having his liver picked out by vultures. Never ending." She answered, straight-faced at first before letting loose a smile and a laugh, "Ok, maybe I'm exaggerating a little, but still."
Rossi smiled with a small wink, "A woman's prerogative." He put a hand on her back and nodded to where Derek himself stood with the two women, beginning to guide her, "Come on, we'll introduce you to a couple of the others while there are only a few of us around. Less overwhelming that way."
Eden nodded her agreement as Aaron semi-led the way, only half a step to her left and in front, and she smiled and sent a quick wink to Jack, who she noted was stealing a sausage-roll from the buffet and scampering away. She was sure the others knew too, but it was all in good fun to let him think he'd gotten away unscathed on his own merit.
"Eden, this is Emily Prentiss and Penelope Garcia. Ladies, this is Eden Summers." Rossi introduced as they reached the other side of the patio and Eden beamed at the two women before her, the former of which had a very classic kind of dark beauty, and styled herself in light jeans and vest top combo, whereas the latter was more eccentric, with violet streaks in her blonde hair, cupid-bow pink lips and a figure-hugging blue summer-dress with coral floral patterns, a coral shawl to match, a cream set of wedges and parasol to top it off. They both looked amazing, but at entirely different ends of the spectrum.
Penelope was the first to step forward and surprisingly embraced Eden, who laughed and returned the hug without hesitating. The blonde pulled away but held the younger girl at arm's length; "Your desserts are divine, your accent is charming and your hair is beautiful. I love you. Don't ever leave."
Eden threw her head back in a laugh as Rossi, Hotch and Derek shared a knowing grin, Emily approaching the two other women and standing beside them; "Don't worry," she explained, "You get used to it."
"But only if you stick around." Penelope was quick to interrupt, almost staring the woman she held captive down to see if she would break, whilst somehow still looking vulnerable.
Eden simply grinned, "That's ok; I don't plan on going anywhere. Though you may regret that given enough time." She joked, taking the sunglasses from atop her head and sliding them back through her hair, pushing errant curls away from her eyes. "I'm really glad you're here though – I panicked for a while that nobody would be turning up, since, y'know, I wrote your invite on a napkin which, funnily enough, could have just been used as a napkin. What if one of you had literally blown your nose all over the party? Tragedy. It was a flawed plan."
Emily laughed and Garcia released her arms, twirling her parasol between her fingers as Derek handed her a glass of iced punch and Rossi gave one each to Eden and Emily, who thanked him in near unison.
"Not as flawed as the carrier-pigeon idea could have been – that is not a mess I would have wanted to clean up." Emily grinned, taking a sip from her cup as they all laughed. Hotch shook his head, not in the least surprised.
"Carrier-pigeon?" He simply asked, eyebrow quirked in Eden's direction, while both of them kept their eyes flitting between present company and Jack. He hadn't gone far, just playing contently with his remote control car a little away on the patio.
"What? I was twelve, we lived near a farm. It worked for the war effort!" She defended, a grin etched across her face, not even trying to look indignant.
"Yeah, nearly a century ago." David teased and everyone grinned or laughed, "And I thought I was bad with technology."
Eden took a sip of her drink and almost sighed at how cool it felt traveling down her throat. It really was a warm day; she was amazed Derek was coping so well in his jeans and dark t-shirt. "I like to think of it as vintage."
"That may be so, but some things are left in the past for a reason." Emily teased.
"Like Rod-Stewart-Meets-Steve-Tyler-Meets-Lenny-Kravitz-Love-Child hairstyles?" Penelope provoked and though Eden was aware she'd missed the origin of that joke, she still grinned at the mental image it produced.
Emily stuttered a little before replying, "It was the 80s! Goth-Rock was in fashion! And I'm still sure you did something to that picture…"
"No, no mon cher, that was all you. Just like it's all you right now thinking that Goth-Rock was ever an acceptable fashion statement."
Eden laughed at Garcia's comment, though she had a feeling she knew what was coming next…
"It could have been worse, Emily. Could have had, oh I don't know, a bowl-cut, for example?" Derek grinned at Eden, a twinkle in his eyes as she narrowed her own in his direction and tried to force her smile away.
"Really, Hercules? You want to talk about hair? You, of all people?" She mocked in return, her eyes flitting up to his shaved head as the others laughed.
"What can I say, Princess? I don't hear any ladies complaining."
Hotch, surprisingly, was the one to answer, "Maybe not to your face…"
They all laughed and 'oohed' a little, like kids in highschool, as Derek exhaled quickly in a short sigh and shook his head a little, "Yeah, yeah, yeah; just remember whose next, Hotch, ok? It is your birthday, after all: another year older, another year balder is all I'm saying. And yours won't be a choice."
The 'ooh's' escalated: "If my hair begins to fall out, it's not age I'll be blaming it on, Morgan."
Friendly banter continued between the six of them, with Jack coming to join them at one point to lean against Eden's side, who absentmindedly twirled the hair at the nape of his neck. She was sure he was tired – he'd been so excited for the party last night it had taken him over an hour and a half to get to sleep, two stories from Aaron, one from Eden and numerable lullabies.
Eden wondered if maybe she should lay him down for a nap but knew he was excited to see Henry, JJ's son, and since they would be there any minute she didn't want to spoil his fun. He'd more than likely perk up when they arrived, and if not then she'd revisit the notion later.
"It's just gone two; do you think we should warm up the barbecue for when the others get here?" Hotch threw the question out, eyeing the old machinery (which, to Eden, just looked as though it belonged in an alternate universe in Dr. Who) and the bag of coals beside it.
Eden felt Jack perk up at the prospect of sausages and burgers, so she whole-heartedly agreed; "Sounds like a plan, Boss-man – want me to grab the lighter?"
Hotch nodded, "There's one in my desk in the study; you know where the keys are."
She nodded, though it was more a statement than a question, and without further ado Eden ruffled Jack's hair and began making her way back into the house, "I'll be just a sec!"
She jogged through the kitchen, into the hallway and took a sharp right to head up the cream carpet of the stairs, before pausing for a second and deciding that it was probably for the best if she visited the little girl's room at that moment, before things got too hectic and she'd be missed.
Two minutes later she grabbed the keys from the cabinet in the hallway, between hers and Aaron's rooms, and shimmied into the study, hearing faintly mumbled voices that were somehow distinctly new. She assumed the rest of the team had arrived, confirmed by Jack's gleeful conversation with a younger, just as eager, voice.
She grinned as she set about searching Aaron's draws.
Downstairs, delighted greetings were exchanged, apologies for lateness and quick hugs and handshakes distributed in abundance. "Traffic was a nightmare," JJ apologised as Will took in his surroundings.
"Nice place you got here, Agent Hotchner," He drawled, trying not to linger too long on the picture of a mother and son on the table near the door.
"Thank you," Hotch accepted, "We certainly like it."
"Um, Hotch?" Spencer interrupted, fidgeting slightly, his hands uncomfortably wringing together, "Do you mind if I use your bathroom?"
Will laughed a little, "He drank a whole load of coffee at breakfast this mornin' – made you think it was the last he'd ever taste, the way he was goin' at it."
Spencer watched as Hotch lifted the corner of his mouth in his signature semi-smile and threw his head in the direction of the staircase to the right of the lobby, about six feet away; "Up the stairs, second door on the left."
That was all Spencer needed, "Thanks." He hurried away from the crowd and took the directions given, no pausing and no gathering of his surroundings. It really had been a lot of coffee.
A better addiction than dilaudid, at least.
He exited the room much slower, taking in the cream walls with interspaced photos, most of which contained Jack and ranged in his age, from birth to present day. There was small, oak cabinet and drawer set a few feet ahead, five doors along the corridor, and the one opposite the wooden storage was open.
And Spencer could hear someone inside.
Curiosity getting the better of him, he slowed his pace further and approached cautiously, more out of habit than for any other reason (though it wouldn't be the first time Hotch would have had to deal with an intruder in his home) and peeked around the corner, trying to be as quiet as possible.
Later, he'd come to realise that he really needn't have bothered attempting such delicacy as Eden Summers existed in a whole other dimension to Spencer and the rest of humanity. But for the time being, he erred on the side of caution.
The scene before him set a furrow in his brow.
Hotch's desk seemed to be under siege by, from what Spencer could tell, a sea of dark curls, blue jeans and little white sandals, who let out the occasional mumble along the lines of 'who needs this much blue-tac?' and 'if I'd have known, I'd have gotten him a damn pen-pot for his Birthday.'
It didn't take much of his genius to deduce who he was faced with.
And it only took the next words out of her mouth for Spencer to be sure, having only ever known her by writing, that his deduction was completely correct.
Eden Summers. The source of all current curiosity at the BAU.
"Stick 'em up, Buster! I've got a weapon and I'm not afraid to use it!"
And it was easy to see why.
Spencer let out a small laugh; he couldn't help himself, and buried his hands deep into the brown of his trouser pockets as the woman before him whipped vehemently around at the noise, pistol still firmly in her grasp, facial expression surprised.
Her eyes were wide, and Spencer could make out the deep ivy colour even from the other side of the room, as chocolate curls tumbled about her shoulders, kept back by stylish sunglasses atop her head.
She was beautiful.
And she was also ridiculous, which gave Spencer the confidence to comment: "While you might not find yourself afraid you may still experience some difficulty with the execution, if you'll excuse the pun," he smiled harmlessly, honey eyes sparked with mirth, "The safety-catch is still on."
She looked down at the gun in her hands, as though suddenly realising what she had been doing, and Spencer admired the faint hue of pink that coloured her ivory cheeks before her gaze met his, twinkling.
She cocked her head to the side, one dimple appearing as she let loose a teasing grin, lowering her weapon; "Then I guess it's your lucky day, punk." Spencer couldn't miss the accent, strong as though she'd just walked off the Mayflower herself, and tried not to dwell on how attractive he found it.
Instead he laughed softly, the smile still lingering at the corners of his lips while he simply replied, "I guess it is."
Eden smiled again, slightly uncontrollably she noted, attempting not to give too much of herself away. With messy dark hair, a strong jaw line and eyes like honey, this man was certainly doing something to her…
But she knew that wasn't acceptable. Because she knew who he was.
And who he was just so happened to share the boss of who she was.
Practically family.
She quickly put the gun back into its drawer, picked up the lighter that had been hidden beneath it and slipped it into one of her back jean pockets, allowing her hands to rest there as she remembered her manners. "You must be Spencer! It's wonderful to finally meet you!"
Eden grinned at him, and Spencer kept his focus on that and not the small revelation of her abdomen that her movement created, slightly dumbfounded, though – he told himself – by the comment more than anything; "It is?"
"Yeah: I've heard a lot about you. It's nice to put a face to the name," She laughed a little, pushing away unbidden thoughts about just how nice of a face it was, too.
Spencer was still engaged with his own shock, "Hotch talks about me?" Eden laughed a little, stepping slightly closer and decreasing a little bit of the distance between them, though they were still a good few feet apart.
"He's always talking about you guys, whether he realises it or not. He loves you all; you are basically family, after all."
She was still smiling, and Reid noted that there was no jealousy in her tone, and not even any kind of longing, really. She seemed like a very content person. Too busy creating a sly profile and not putting his brain-filter into use, he replied, "He hasn't spoken much about you."
He regretted the words that left his mouth almost immediately, like he often did, and wondered if he'd offended her already, or managed to scare her away. He wondered if she'd leave the room and avoid him for the rest of the night, or demand an explanation or apology – the latter of which she probably deserved. But he'd only spoken the truth.
Because the truth Spencer could do. And he did it well.
But she didn't do any of these things, for which he was grateful. Instead, she simply laughed a little with a small shrug and nibbled her lower lip, an indicator usually attributed to stress or anxiety.
Normally, because he was around, he'd assume the former. But something was telling Spencer that she felt a little shy, though the reason he couldn't fathom.
"I guess I'm just not all that interesting," She commented, removing her hands from her back pockets and crossing them around her chest, rubbing one arm slightly even though the room was warm.
She was feeling vulnerable. Again he wondered the reason, and words fell from his mouth before he thought them through, though he caught her eye and held it, radiating sincerity, "Actually, I think indescribable is more appropriate." He shrugged a little this time, "You're a mystery."
This time her laugh was loud and genuine, "Mysteries are usually worth figuring out; I promise you, you'd be nothing but bored if you had to spend even a minute dissecting my life. I'm just your average, run-of-the-mill student, I'm afraid."
He didn't believe her, and he stated so; "Technically there's no such thing. While students are said to share certain characteristics with one another, such as laziness, a penchant for unhealthy foods, adversity to daylight hours and excessive drinking, the majority of these examples are actually just stereotypes perpetuated by society in order to encourage students to differ from this behaviour and adversely act responsible while away from home. It's a mass induction of reverse psychology."
There was a brief moment of silence in which Eden tilted her head again, eyes sweeping across Spencer's face with an expression he couldn't quite decipher. Whatever it was though, it made his palms feel clammy and his neck hot.
He was sure she thought he was a freak.
"Did you just tell me that people are like snowflakes, essentially?"
Spencer grinned a little, admittedly slightly relieved, taking years off his already youthful appearance, and rocked back and forth slightly on the balls of his feet, "I suppose I did." He scratched the back of his neck, inadvertently ruffling the already tousled hair there.
"Well then, just to be clear, this snowflake's name is Eden Summers," She smiled and held her hand out to him, "Ironic as that may be." She laughed a little at her own discovery. Spencer found it endearing.
He looked at her hand for a minute, pushing away the urge to habitually reject the offering and instead let the fact that he want to touch her, to be a little closer to her, take over. Surreptitiously, he wiped his hand on the side of his trousers before taking hers, hoping she didn't notice the action or any lingering perspiration.
She didn't.
"Eden," he tested the name, letting it sit delicately in the air for a moment, "The Lord God placed the man in the Garden of Eden to tend and watch over it."
She laughed a little, squeezing his hand lightly before letting go and adjusting the sunglasses on her head, "Genesis 2:15 – you know your scripture." Spencer couldn't help looking pleasantly shocked. Eden shrugged, "My grandmother came from a pretty strict Catholic background," She explained before grinning again, "But don't worry, I've been tending to and watching over myself like a big girl for a while now; you won't be called on for that."
It was Spencer's turn to shrug as he held her gaze steady, "Even if it wasn't in the Bible, it's still in the job description." Eden let out a laugh.
"Well how about we head back downstairs for now, before the rest of your team think I've kidnapped you and decide to enact their own 'to serve and protect' clause." She sent him a grin as she wandered past his still form, turning in the doorway to face him when he still had yet to move, eyes drifting into space. She laughed, breaking his daze, "It might be easier to convince them if you're actually with me, Spencer."
He shook his head to clear it, refocusing just in time to see Eden turn and continue down the hallway.
Eden, he thought to himself as he began to follow her, a place or state of great happiness; an unspoilt paradise.
Only five minutes in, and already Spencer Reid couldn't agree more.
Show me more love? It gets fingers itchy to type quicker…
And I really do appreciate you all, and your love for Eden – it makes me both very happy and inspires me to continue to add depth to her character :D
So pretty please? Reviews?