Chapter 26

Candlewood Suites
Watertown NY
Outside Ft. Drum Military Reservation

October 2011

"I didn't wander off." Spencer said when they were in talking distance. "I left a note. I didn't lose the babysitter." He nodded to the junior agent who had been following at a discrete distance.

"I know." Morgan replied. "I appreciate that. But here." He handed Spencer a replacement phone. It was disturbing to realize just how much better he felt with that. Morgan handed one to Tally as well. "Uhhh...here. Keep this with you. The Professor here will show you how to use it."

"All right. Thank you." Tally slipped it into her apron pocket, missing Morgan placing his hand against the bottom of his sternum, about where her head would reach. Spencer just gave him a blank look, so she was small, so what?

"Housekeeper sent a bag of things along for you, since she didn't know if you were coming back." Emily said to Tally.

"Oh good. I know I'm not going back tonight anyway. At least I don't think I am." Tally looked up at Spencer for confirmation.

"You can if you want." He replied. "But I'd rather you stay. I'm going to stay."

"In that case I'm going to stay as well."

That decided Morgan led them back to their room. "Now you have to know," He said. "We are on the road. This was the best I could do." He opened the door with a flourish.

Spencer stepped in, took a look, and landed on the bed, laughing harder than he had in a year.

Now every chain hotel room is pretty much the same. There's a bed, which may or may not be comfortable, which may or may not have decorative elements which just get in the way, and which may or may not have enough pillows. There are two nightstands, one with a clock radio and a Gideon bible. There is a dresser, which is rarely used and which supports a television. There is likely a desk with a guide to local attractions, a set of menus to places that deliver, and a mirror over it, and a small table with uncomfortable chairs. There is generically bland art, an ice bucket, perhaps a stand to hold an open suitcase and if you're really lucky a small coffee maker with incredibly shitty coffee. This described the room he and Tally were sharing that night more or less exactly.

But Morgan had gotten creative. The generic wall art over the bed was down, replaced with a pinned up road club map of North America. On the wall opposite, next to the TV, a small cork board had been pinned up and decorated with bright cartoon cutouts that spoke of classrooms and teachers. An American flag on a stand, likely borrowed from the base, had been placed in the corner by the window, and opposite it a small white board had been rolled in. A globe sat in the middle of the table next to a crate of school supplies. Finally a printed off picture of the President had been pinned up on the wall between the bedroom and the bathroom.

"What the hell?" Emily asked.

"He said they felt safest in the school." Morgan replied. He gestured to the room. "So I set up a school. Even remembered this," he picked up a small stepstool.

"Books!" Spencer managed to gasp out.

"We have to pack most of this stuff back you know." Morgan replied. "What you read would fill up the hold of the plane. Here," he picked up two computer tablets that were sitting on the table. "I know you're going to tell me they're slow but baby girl went for quantity."

"What is it?" Tally asked.

"It's got your whole classroom library plus some in it." Morgan replied. "He'll show you how to use it."

"The whole library? Really?" Tally looked at it in astonishment, then at the crate of supplies on the table. "It's wonderful! Thank you so much!" When she looked up her eyes and smile sparkled.

"You're welcome sister." Morgan grinned and looked over at Spencer. "Yeah?"

"Thank you." Spencer finally managed to stop laughing and got to his feet to give Morgan a thank you hug. He hadn't realized how much they cared.

"You have lost your mind." Emily said, shaking her head. "Okay, payment. Rossi found a barber; you have an appointment first thing in the morning."

"Don't like the beard huh?" Spencer scratched at his chin. He hadn't been able to shave since he was taken, it had come in nicely.

"You look like a yeti."

"It's not that bad. It does make me look older."

"I like you better without it." Tally said.

That settled it. "All right then."

Later that evening Spencer bade good night to the team and headed into his room, locking the door behind him. He stopped on the way in to change into his pajamas and wash his beard for the last time.

He'd missed them. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed them all. How much he'd missed the easy exchange of ideas and topics and gentle jokes and being with people who understood the life they led. He'd earned a new nickname from them all. FBI tradition used last names, but now he was also "Doc", out of respect for Tally's culture and the bits of it he was keeping. And Morgan had been calling her sister, which meant acceptance.

He had the most amazing family.

But now he wanted, needed this privacy, this quiet in their makeshift school house. He needed time when it was just them, when they could heal together.

But he hadn't realized what private time together would mean.

He'd asked Tally for one thing, no more night dresses. The thought of holding her in the same thing she'd worn then sickened him. Which was why when he came around the corner and he found her kneeling on the bed in her petticoat and this tank top thing that tied under her breasts, all thin material that let him see hints of coral pink and darkness and sweet tempting curves, he felt his mouth go dry. She'd taken down her hair, something they never did where men could see, and copper red curls hung to her waist, likely uncut in fourteen years. She was brushing it out slowly, her eyes closed, enjoying the sensation.

Yep. Didn't need the pills. "You're beautiful." He said.

"Am I?" She opened amber eyes to look at him. "Housekeeper must be right then."

"She is." He wanted to. He was going to ache with wanting to as he slept with her in his arms tonight. But he didn't have what he needed to truly keep from hurting her, and so he wouldn't. But he very much wanted to.

"There's a bag left for you." Willow said, nodding to the nightstand as she went back to brushing her hair.

He stepped over and looked and silently blessed whichever benevolent friend thought of what they would need. He looked back and found her looking at him. "What are you thinking?" He asked.

"I miss it." She replied quietly. "This is a much better place."

"It is." I made her cry in pain once, Spencer thought. If I make her cry in pleasure enough it might make balance those cosmic books. It certainly couldn't hurt to try. He bent over and joined her on the bed and his lips found hers.

"I don't know about that table though." She said when the kiss broke. "It's not very sturdy."

She still thought that was how it was supposed to happen, he realized. But while he had very little experience he had read extensively on the subject. He had ideas. "Not the table." He said. He settled with his back against the headboard, silently thanked his ancestors for his slender frame, and pulled her over to straddle his lap. This way he couldn't accidentally hurt her. "Like this."

"Like this? Oh..." He saw surprise in her eyes as she realized just how she was sitting, and then he groaned as she squirmed against him. "I like this." She said as she draped her arms around his shoulders and stretched up to kiss him.

And those books started to balance.