Six months. Half a year. One month longer than I'd even known Spencer had passed since we last spoke, but I still found myself thinking about him almost every day. It didn't help that Penelope made sure to mention him every time I spoke to her, but the way my heart tugged whenever he was brought up told me that I probably would've still been thinking about him anyway.
I'd given him some time, like he'd asked. I didn't call or message him, I waited patiently for him to come back to me when he was clean. It did feel like a break up when we last spoke, but at first I really felt like it was just temporary. He had too much on his plate and his lack of relationship experience meant that it took more energy and effort for him to figure us out so he needed to take me out of the picture to get himself better. I understood that, but I assumed that once he'd kicked his drug habit he would come running back. Two months passed with no word from him though and when we made it to three without a single text being exchanged, I caved and asked Penelope how he was doing. Until that point, we generally avoided any conversations about him so when she told me that from what she knew he'd been clean and sober for about a month and seem basically back to his normal self, I was disheartened.
Of course, I was relieved and proud of him for getting himself sober, but my theory that he just needed space until he was healthy again was shot. He obviously had no intentions of us picking up where we left off and I was crushed. Realizing how upset her news had made me, Penelope urged me to talk to him, but it just didn't feel right. I'd left it too long without reaching out, it felt awkward and out of line to do it now. Besides, if he'd wanted us to give it another try, he would have called me himself when he was clean.
I did my best to get over it though. I focused a lot on my yoga, building my strength even more, mastering poses that I'd been struggling with and getting myself a solid contract teaching with the yoga company I'd joined when I moved back to DC. I now had a set schedule of classes ranging from early morning for those on their way to work, mid-morning gentle yoga for the elderly, a lunch time class for those wanting to fit in a workout on their break and evening classes for those who preferred to practice at the end of their day. It all depended on what day of the week it was, but having a schedule was nice. My name and bio was on the website, I had students who came to the studio to see me specifically and I really was starting to feel like I had a career.
I'd dipped my toe back in the dating pool as well, but it didn't last long. None of the guys could hold my attention or even much of a decent conversation and not once did any of them whip out statistics to prove their point. They just seemed so boring. After five or six unsuccessful dates I began to realize that my type had changed and the men I had dated in the past really did nothing for me anymore.
I was in no rush though. I'd had my fill of one night stands and shitty relationships over the years. I wasn't going to settle for anything that didn't come naturally. I wouldn't have to force it when I found the right guy and I just had to stop my brain from insisting that I'd already found him.
The weather in September was always unpredictable. As fall crept in and summer slowly faded away, it seemed almost impossible to know what to wear. Which is how I found myself running down the sidewalk towards the metro on a Saturday afternoon in the pouring rain wearing nothing, but my yoga pants and a loose tank top over my sports bra. It had been sunny and warm when I left my apartment before my class, but the clouds had rolled in while I was teaching and I was stuck without a coat.
My head was down to shield my face from the rain that seemed to be coming down harder by the second so I didn't see the man coming towards me until I smashed right into him so hard that I had to grab onto him to stop myself from falling over.
"Shit, fuck, shit," I gasped out, shocked by the collision. "Sorry, I wasn-"
My sentence died in my mouth as I looked up and saw that I was in fact clinging to Spencer Reid, his umbrella hiding us from the rain.
"Mickey," He breathed out, seemingly as shocked as I was. "I, uh, I'm sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going."
"Me neither," I croaked out, a million thoughts and emotions running through my head. "I just finished a class and as you can see I, uh, don't have a coat so I was rushing and not paying attention."
My explanation rushed out unnecessarily, but the awkward tension between us was making my stomach turn and I had to say something. Realistically, I shouldn't have been that surprised to run into Spencer. The studio wasn't far from his apartment and the nearest metro stop was just one block over, but usually I just walked home after class so I'd managed to avoid him.
As his scent filled my nose, I was snapped out of my thoughts and jumped backwards, realizing I was still practically wrapped around him.
"I should get going," I mumbled. "Before I catch a cold standing here in the rain."
"Actually, the theory that you can get sick from being in the rain or being physically cold is a myth. It's a virus, you won't get sick unless you come in contact with it," He informed me, holding my gaze and stopping me from fleeing as quickly as my brain was telling me to. "But it's not very comfortable being in wet clothes and my place is just down the street from here. Would you like to come up and get dry?"
I stared at him for a moment wondering if I was dreaming and had some how ended up in some strange romantic comedy. We hadn't spoken in months, he'd made no attempt to contact me and now he wanted me to hang out at his apartment like we were old pals? My brain was sufficiently muddled.
"I dunno, Spencer. I should probably be getting home."
"I've been meaning to call you," He blurted out as I started to move past him. "If you have other plans, that's fine, but the rain isn't supposed to let up for another hour at least. It might be a good chance for us to talk."
How convenient, I thought to myself, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. You've been meaning to call me now that you've run into me at a time when the rain has made my shirt almost completely see-through.
I was about to voice my protests when the wind shifted and I was once again being pelted by rain despite Spencer's rather large umbrella. I sighed and wiped the water that was dripping from my brow before relenting.
"Fine. Lead the way."
Spencer nodded and offered me his umbrella as we began walking in the direction of his apartment, but I shook my head, trailing stubbornly behind him to purposely avoid any protection he could offer me.
Without saying a word, Spencer disappeared into his bedroom once we'd made it back to his apartment. I'd assumed he was going to get changed and stood awkwardly in his living room not wanting to get his couch wet, but he surprised me when he came back with the FBI t-shirt I'd worn months ago and a towel.
"If you hang your clothes on the towel rack in the bathroom, they should be dry by the time you leave."
I nodded and headed to the bathroom to change.
Once the door was closed, I leaned against the sink with a sigh. It was awkward, uncomfortable and confusing being here. He said we should talk, but apparently six months wasn't enough time to gather my thoughts. I was hurt that he'd pushed me away at a time when he needed support and that he hadn't called me when he was clean. I was sad that he had ended our relationship just as we were hitting our stride and I was confused as to why he was so quick to invite me here after running into me on the street. And at the end of the day, the words he'd said when I went visiting Peneleope at the BAU were still in my head. Whether he meant them or not, it was a massive knock to my confidence to hear him say that he saw me just like everyone else did.
After taking my time to change into the familiar t-shirt and to towel dry my hair a bit, I hung my clothes on the rail as Spencer suggested and headed out to face the music.
I walked into the living room to see Spencer sitting on the couch. He was perched right on the edge and the tension in his body was clear.
"So, uh, how are you?" He asked as I sat on the far end of the couch, curling my legs up underneath me.
"I'm alright," I nodded. "Things have been going well for me lately actually. Works been good, I have set classes now, I'm officially a full time teacher."
"Good," Spencer smiled, looking down at his hands. "I'm glad to hear that."
"How're you?" I flipped the question on him. "I hear you got clean? I'm really proud of you, Spence. That couldn't have been easy."
"I did," He confirmed. "And it wasn't easy. Still isn't if I'm being honest. But I've been going to meetings and as with any twelve step process, we're supposed to make amends. That's why I've been meaning to call you..."
My heart sank slightly at his words. It wasn't a gesture of love or him begging for forgiveness. I was just part of a twelve step addiction process.
"You don't need to make amends, Spencer," I sighed. "I always understood. I was hurt and disappointed, but I just wanted you to get better and if you couldn't do that with me in your life then I wouldn't have wanted to stay."
"I do need to make amends," He insisted, tilting his head to look at me for the first time in our conversation. "I made a mistake. I couldn't stand the shame of being an addict even if I knew all the statistics proved that not getting addicted would have been almost impossible after what I went through. I made the choice to take the drugs from Tobias' pocket, I made the choice to keep using them and I hurt you because of that. I put the drugs above you and that wasn't right."
"You didn't have much choice," I said quietly, all the mean, snotty comments I'd rehearsed in my head while imagining this conversation suddenly disappearing. "As you said, it would have been hard for you to avoid an addiction with the doses Tobias was giving you. I'm not going to sit here and say that you didn't hurt me very badly in all of this, but I'm the queen of being thoughtless while intoxicated so I do understand."
He chuckled slightly at my comment and I felt my heart flutter at the sound.
"I never wanted to hurt you," He assured me. "I just felt guilty for how I was behaving and when I came over that night and used you like that, I was so disgusted with myself. I knew I didn't deserve you so when I saw you with Garcia in the office and heard how sad you sounded because of something I'd done, I had to say something to try to keep you away."
"What you said did really bother me," I admitted, looking down at my hands and nervously picking at my nails. "I really felt like we had a connection, a deeper one than just fucking around or whatever. I felt like you got me, you know? You didn't see me for all the stupid shit I'd done in the past, you saw me for who I am now and who I'm trying to be. But when you pointed out our intelligence difference and pretty much said I'd only ever be good for sex, it stung. Because I know that's how a lot of people see me and I thought you were different."
I lifted my eyes once again to meet his despite the tears I could feel filling them and could see the regret written all over his face.
"I didn't mean it. Really. I would never think that. Intelligence can't even be accurately quantified. You might not have any Phds, but you certainly have more street smarts and worldly life experience than I do," He insisted. "And I could never see you as someone who's only good for sex. Sex isn't even important to me. I cared about you because you're funny, uplifting, kindhearted, interesting and you gave me a shot when most women won't even look my way. A shot that I obviously blew completely."
I wrinkled my brows together in confusion.
"You didn't blow it. I waited months for you to call me when you were sober," I confessed, my cheeks twinging pink at the vulnerability of admitting I'd been pining for him. "When Penny finally told me that you were clean and you'd never been in touch I assumed you just weren't interested anymore."
Spencer looked shocked as he frantically shook his head.
"No! Absolutely not. I was embarrassed. By my drug use and how I treated you, I didn't have the courage to call you up and expect you to want anything to do with me."
"Spencer," I said softly as I cautiously shifted to the middle of the couch so I could take his hand in mine. "I never judged you for your drug use. You don't need to be embarrassed or ashamed of it, it was forced on you and you got through it. You shouldn't be anything, but proud of yourself. I'd never hold it against you."
Spencer laced his fingers with mine, but body language was still tense and unsure as he looked at me like a confused child.
"But I hurt you..."
His voice was quiet and I got the impression that if he spoke any louder it might break.
"And I hurt a lot of people a long the way too," I reminded him. "But all I've ever wanted is for people to give me a second chance so what kind of person would I be if I didn't extend that courtesy to you?"
"What are you trying to say?"
His brows furrowing as he tried to work out what I was suggesting while my stomach was in knots. From our conversation I was assuming we were on the same page and this whole mess seemed to come from lack of communication and too much pride, but I wasn't sure I could handle being rejected again.
"I'm trying to say that I'd be willing to give us a second chance," I said quietly, looking down at where our hands were joined. "If you even wanted to that is or, oh god, as long as you're not seeing someone else. I didn't even ask that."
Spencer smiled and shook his head.
"It took me years to find someone willing to put up with my rambling and statistics, there's no way I'd be able to find another one so soon," He assured me. "Besides, I didn't want to. I thought about you all the time, Mickey."
"I thought about you a lot too," I admitted. "So would you want to give this another shot?"
Spencer swallowed hard as he nodded, looking nervous.
"If you'll have me...?"
I couldn't fight the grin that burst onto my face as I scrambled to climb into his lap, straddling his thighs as my arms draped over this shoulders. I wanted to squeal with glee, cry, shout from the rooftops that everything was right in the world again, but I settled for simply pressing my lips against his to answer his question.
He seemed surprised at first, but as he relaxed, it felt like coming home. His familiar scent surrounded me as our lips moved together so perfectly it was like no time between us has passed at all. I pulled away a few moments later to catch my breath, resting my forehead against his.
"And for the record, I've missed your statistics and facts," I smiled at him, as I slid to the side slightly so I was squished between his body and the arm of the couch with my legs draping over his.
"Well I'm glad someone appreciates them," He chuckled and finally leaned back against the couch looking more relaxed than he had all day. We sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, both of us pondering how we got to where we are from a chance run in on the street before Spencer spoke up again. "So, did you, uh, meet anyone else while we were apart?"
He sounded nervous, like he wasn't sure he wanted to know, but he relaxed a bit when I shrugged.
"No one interesting," I assured him. "I went on a few dates, but they were all just so boring. One guy spent a good half an hour describing to me the organisational system of his golf trophies."
"Okay, even I'm not that bad on a first date," Spencer laughed as I cringed at the memory.
"You were wonderful on our first date!" I insisted as I tucked a stray stand of hair behind his ear. It was longer than it had been the last time I'd seen him, but it suited him. "So how have things been? I know works been busy because Penny keeps ditching me, but anything else interesting happen in the last six months?"
Spencer started to shake his head, but stopped as a sad look crossed his eyes.
"Giddeon left," He confessed. "There was this unsub who'd gotten away before and he came back in May. He murdered a friend of Giddeon's and he hasn't been the same since then. After our case last week, he left. He didn't even say goodbye, just left me a letter trying to explain himself."
"Oh, Spencer, I'm sorry," I frowned, knowing how close he was to his mentor. "But he's been doing the job for a long time now, I'm not surprised it finally got to him. You guys see a lot of horrible things every day, it has to wear you down eventually especially if it gets personal."
"I know," Spencer nodded, his jaw tight once again. "But he didn't have to do it like that. It feels like my dad leaving all over again."
"I'm sorry," I murmured again, completely at a loss for what to say. "You do deserve more than a letter."
"Hotch has been suspended too and might be transferring," He continued. "Everything's a mess."
"You guys will figure it out. You're a great team, you always do," I assured him with a sympathetic smile. "Just promise me you won't cut me out again, okay? When things get tough with work or with your cravings or anything at all, I don't want to be worried all the time that you're going to ghost on me again."
"I promise," Spencer nodded. "Can we also, uh, talk about what you told me the last time I saw you? About why you started drinking..."
Now it was my turn to tense up as I remembered what I'd confessed to try and get him to confide in me. I'm sure he saw the terror in my eyes at his suggestion, but thankfully he didn't push it when I shook my head.
"Another time, I promise," I assured him. "But today I just want to be happy and enjoy having you back in my life."
Spencer agreed, somewhat reluctantly, and I leaned over to place a soft kiss on his lips, still amazed by the fact that I was able to do that again before we spent the rest of the afternoon catching up, laughing together and watching movies as the rain continued to pour outside until well into the evening.
