As always I do not own the rights to Criminal Minds, CBS, ABC and their affiliates. This is a fictional story for entertainment purposes only. All Original Fictional Characters are of my imagination and any resemblance to living or deceased individuals is purely coincidental. Do not use any or all parts of this story without prior permission from the writer.

Buried Beneath Still Waters

Chapter 4

Her shift was over and she had every intention of going home, but something pulled her in this direction. As she drove down the gravel driveway she wondered if she made the right decision. "Oh you're just going to make sure he is alright. You're a cop, concerned for the well being of one of your citizens." She rationalized. "Nope has nothing to do with the fact that he is extremely good looking and living in your dream house." She laughed, but the butterflies she was feeling in her stomach alarmed her.

Spence sat up on the couch when he thought he smelled smoke. His heart was racing a little, he quickly calmed down when he realized he must have been dreaming. He struggled to swallow, it hurt to do so. The distinct sound of tires on gravel caught his attention. He stood up, crossing the room to the front door in a few strides. He opened it just as Ryan stepped up onto the porch. He held the screen door open for her and she stepped inside. She smelled of gardenia and something fruity he couldn't quite place. It was very intoxicating and he wanted to investigate where the mystery scent was coming from. Alarmed at his train of thought he suddenly remembered he hadn't showered yet today. He quickly checked under his arms, and then puffed into his hand to see if his breath was ok. All was well at least he hoped. To be sure he reached for the Listerine strips he always kept in his pockets only to realize he didn't have pockets, he was shirtless and in his pajamas.

As Ryan made her way into the room she looked up at the high vaulted ceilings and her heart skipped a beat. She loved the inside of this place as much as the outside. She looked around the room again noting the things she saw this morning and taking in a few more details. The wood floors were bare except for an area rug here and there. The mantel above the hearth had an old wind up clock in the center and was flanked by expensive brass candle sticks. An oil lamp was on the right end and a basket of eucalyptus was on the far left side. I must have been there for a very long time because it had lost its scent. The couch was forest green and looked very comfortable. A caramel colored throw blanket was folded neatly on the back of it. Behind the couch was a table with much of the same king of decorations, candle sticks, a candy dish filled with M&M's a silver tray that had a set of car keys resting in it. The only thing Ryan would change is the addition of family photos. The pictures on the walls were oil paintings of various artists, expensive, some she knew other's she didn't. Ryan looked at a small one hanging close to the peg hooks. It was the lake and she was sure it was the view from the porch. 'Did he do this?' She decided he didn't because the scribbled signature was a J and a D. the rest was unreadable. 'Painted by a lover, a friend, or maybe a wife?' Ryan's mind raced with questions she had no right to ask. Her mind reeled at the prospect that a woman painted that as a gift for him. The movie "The Note Book" flashed in her mind, and brought a vision of a beautiful voluptuous woman sitting on the porch clothed in only a blanket painting that scene after hours of lovemaking. A twinge of jealousy rocketed through her body exploding in her heart. This was her dream and damn it she wanted it as irrational as that was. She turned from the painting and looked at Spencer. His hand was on the middle of his bare chest and she sucked in a sharp breath. Both of them, suddenly well aware of his lack of clothing.

"You don't like the painting?" He asked softly. His voice was raw and she wondered if he was ok.

"It's nice." She said as a matter of fact.

"My friend painted it shortly after he bought this place. It was his love, his place to relax, but now he doesn't come here anymore." He didn't know why he was sharing that with her it just sort of slipped out.

"Well tell him it is very nice and that I love this place too." She smiled sweetly. Spencer couldn't help but smile too.

"I will if I ever see him again."

Ryan could hear the pain in his voice, not only from the sore throat, but from the hurt he felt deep in his heart. She was sure that there was more to this story than what he shared.

They were quiet for a few moments lost in thought until Ryan broke the silence, "I wanted to make sure you are alright. Your throat sounds awful are you in a lot of pain?"

"No, it doesn't hurt too much, only when I cough, swallow or speak." Laughing he added, "Pretty much all the time."

"You should have some soup. I'll make you some and bring it back here for your dinner."

Spencer knew there wasn't any hope in arguing she might call Sally Anne to bully him again. He smirked and she looked at him questioning. He really owed both of these ladies a thank you. "I'll tell you what, why don't you make it here. Take a look at what I picked up from the store and see if you need anything else and I will buy it. Then you can invite your friend Sally Anne over for dinner tonight and I can express my thank you to both of you."

Ryan smiled, "That is a good idea, but I will go to the store and get the items and you can do the things you need to do in the mean time." After a shopping list was made and a phone call placed to Sally Anne, Ryan left with the promise to return and knock his socks off with a home cooked meal.

An hour later Ryan returned and Spencer helped her unload the bags. She was wearing a black scooped neck shirt with a periwinkle tank t-shirt underneath, dark jeans and silver kitten heels. A necklace with an amethyst, diamond cut stone hung around her neck. Tiny gold hoops earrings were the only other piece of jewelry she wore. As he leaned into the trunk of her car he came within inches of her and he could smell the gardenia. The fruity scent was there too and he wondered if it was her hair.

Ryan noticed the dampness of his hair and the fresh shave. He smelled good, like shaving cream and soap. The skin on his neck was red as if scrubbed vigorously. He had dressed in a crisp white long sleeve shirt which had the top few buttons open, the sleeves rolled to the elbow and the ends untucked. Brown slacks the color of cocoa, which appeared to be tailor made to fit his body, and sued shoes finished the outfit. His watch was a size to big for his wrist and slid up and down his arm as he moved. As he reached for a bag, his hand brushed Ryan's forearm, sending chills down her spine. On the porch Ryan opened the door for him since he carried the larger part of the grocery bags. Instead of stepping into the cabin Spencer leaned on the screen door and allowed her to go first. 'A gentleman, not too many of them left in this world.' As Ryan set the bags she was holding down onto the table she turned to Spencer and said, "Sally Anne sends her regards and thanks you for the invitation, but this is her middle shift week."

"Oh I'm sorry to hear that, maybe next time." Spencer bit his lip nervous about being here alone with Ryan. Would she be bored with him? It wasn't like he could talk about his job or family.

As they unpacked the bags Ryan thought this is what it would be like if they were a couple. If they were married and living here. The only difference would be the kiss he would give her when they touched at the trunk of her car. The thought of that kiss made her heart race. She pulled a hair tie out of her pocket to distract herself from her fantasy. Reid watched as she did that. He was disappointed that she was tying up her hair. She looked cute with it in a ponytail, but with it down he could run his fingers through it. And God he wanted to, he wouldn't though.

She broke his daydream by saying, "You can sit down if you want, maybe open the wine". She turned on the sink washing her hands. Reid came up next to her, "No I want to help." He washed his too and she smiled at him.

May I?" as she pulled a utensil drawer

"Yes please, help yourself since I don't really know where anything is anyway."

After a few minutes of searching, Ryan said, "You have a culinary gold mine in here."

He poured them both a glass of wine and she laid the chicken breast on a piece of wax paper, covering it with another piece, She pounded it flat with what appeared to Spencer to be a medieval torture device, in fact everything she piled on the counter looked that way. He turned a garlic press in his hand flipping it over and over. When he was done with that "toy" he picked up a hand file. He looked at it puzzled. Ryan put the chicken on the grill. She washed her hands once more and dried them on a dish towel. She giggled as she watched him stare at the grater with his mouth open. "You don't cook do you?"

He shook his head. "I make a good "take out" and a mean bowl of Rice Crispies you should try it." Spencer averted his eyes and turned away quickly, 'Did I just invite her to stay for breakfast?'

Ryan stepped behind him. She took the wrist he was holding the grater and then placed half of the ginger root in his right hand, showing him how to grind it into powder. Her touch was sensual and Spencer allowed it to spread throughout his body. He was grateful to have his hips plastered against the cabinet, because the mere presence of her made him react physically. His body strained against the fabric of his trousers. He threw himself whole heartedly into grating the ginger because if he didn't he would turn around and kiss her.

"About two tablespoons will be enough." Her voice was an octave lower and he wondered if she knew he reacted to her touch.

Ryan busied herself with chopping; the trouble was she barely could keep the knife steady. 'God he had beautiful hands, long fingers, and strong wrists.' She was glad he removed his watch, because it distracted her so, making her stare at his hands and wonder what he could do with those remarkable digits. Making dinner was never hotter. She took a sip of her wine and thought she needed something stronger than this fruity drink.

He took a small pull on the glass of wine, not wanting it to go to his head. The aroma was fruity and when it hit his pallet it was light and crisp. 'Fruity. That damn scent he desperately wanted to figure out where it was coming from. Was it her hair, her skin or those moist lips?' One thing was for sure if it was her lips he would never leave them.

Somehow they managed to get the dinner made. Moving around the kitchen and bumping into each other was causing Spencer physical pain. He was exhausted from battling an erection most of the night, and was grateful to finally sit down. He sat at the head of the table and she took the chair to the right. Their knees touched quite a few times making the hope that he would get a break, vanish. Her soup was more like a meal and everything was easy to swallow. Even the bread went down smoothly. It tasted like a little bit of heaven. They talked and laughed over the empty dishes and the shared in the clean up. He made coffee and they took that on the porch to the symphony of the birds and the sunset. Spencer stood and she did too as the sky turned from pink to purple to dark midnight blue. He looked into her warm brown eyes and a thought occurred to him, 'He could live like this, here with this woman by his side.' That terrified him and he stepped back. "Thank you so much for everything."

Ryan had been positive he would kiss her and she was disappointed he hadn't. He moved close to her, so close that she could feel his body heat. But something flashed in his eyes and it was over before it had a chance to happen. He had dismissed her quickly. She took his coffee mug from him and went inside with both of them. He followed her and watched as she loaded the cups into the dishwasher. He longed for this type of normal activity in his life but it wasn't in the cards and that stung. Ryan picked up her purse and headed to the door. She wouldn't try anything with him; she would let him come to her if he wanted to. "Thank you for a lovely evening Spencer, see you again soon." She quickly kissed his cheek and a moment later was out the door heading to her car.

A/N Special thanks to CSK for helping me with the forensic aspects of the case. Without you Crime Scene Kelly my case would be a bunch of fabricated foolishness. From the bottom of my heart a very big thank you for your time and effort!

Thanks to all of you who are out there proof reading, giving me suggestions and helpful hints. And to you the reader for your reviews and your continued support!