Chapter forty-two
North Cleveland Park
Washington DC

Spencer

They didn't talk over dinner. The restaurant was too crowded and too noisy and by common accord they needed a break and to remember why they liked each other so much in the first place. But it was a topic that had to be tackled and the quiet walk home was the best time and place. "So how do we do this?" Susanna asked.

"I don't know." Spencer replied. "I guess I always figured it would just happen naturally."

"I don't know, I think we're both too messed up for this to happen naturally."

They walked for a few minutes while they considered it. "There is one thing that concerns me." Spencer admitted.

"Oh?"

"It's, um….research has shown that it's not unusual for women who have suppressed their sexuality out of societal induced condemnation to indulge in fantasies of being forced when they start to re-discover themselves. It's supposed to be a way of alleviating the guilt."

"It's not my fault father, he made me enjoy it?" She murmured.

"Something like that. If that's what it takes to heal, you know, but…with the work that I do I just can't go there. I've seen too many real victims." There was no way he could ever force her into anything, even in play.

"Marsha and I talked about that. She said it was controversial but in the tradition she trained in it was considered a bad habit. I can't say that I've gone there or really anywhere else, but I don't want to get into that habit of mind. She said I should be working on taking agency, taking responsibility and ownership of how I feel."

"Good advice."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Spencer, from what you've told me every encounter you've had was a woman pushing her will onto yours, taking your agency away. Seems to me that might be something you need to work on as well."

Ah. "I'm not that kind of a guy."

"Man."

"What?"

"Man. Marsha said it was important to stop infantilizing myself, girl, boy, guy, gal. Woman, man. Man. What do you mean?"

Spencer blinked. He'd never thought of the sort of dignity precision of language could impart. Morgan and Rossi did still call him 'kid' from time to time and 'pretty boy' and it was all teasing fun but something about hearing her say 'man' like that... "I'm not an alpha male, not the take command type like Rossi or Hotch, for example."

"Which means you don't like taking the lead with girls? Women?"

"It means I've never really taken the lead in anything." That was not entirely true; there was that one time with Austen, which hadn't gone past that phone call. But it had felt remarkably satisfying. "I'm too nervous around…women."

"You're not nervous around me." Susanna pointed out.

"You're not like most women I know."

"Oh?"

"You're…I don't know…gentle." Even Maeve had taken control of their relationship from the get go. But he had a feeling that if he asked Susanna to let him help her stop a stalker, she'd trust him to fix everything.

Wait.

"Why did you stop?" Susanna asked.

"Trust." Lila had, in her aggressive way until the case was over. Austen had when it became emergent. But both of those cases had been professional first, they were hiding behind his badge more than him. Maeve never really did.

"What?"

He started walking again. "What are your feelings about this anyway?"

"I was raised to believe that men take dominion and headship over everything, especially their families."

"See, you need to change that."

"Yes, but how much? You know the only reason why I'm not as afraid in the world as I should be is because I know I have my knight looking out for me."

Now his ears were burning… "Well, I…"

"And there isn't anyone else I would trust with this sort of thing."

There they went with the trust thing again. Somehow she was making him feel taller. "All right…"

"But I also agree with Marsha that it's important not to be a doormat, to claim your own wants and needs and feelings and express them and ask for them to be met."

"Which is good."

"So I guess what I'm saying is that I trust you to take the lead but that doesn't mean that I'm not going to speak up and that I'm not going to say no if you ask me to do something I don't want to do."

Okay, he could be on solid ground there. "Susanna, if I ever try to make you do something you don't want to do please take my gun and shoot me."

She nodded at that, "If you insist."

"I do. Has this conversation gotten us anywhere?"

"I don't know."

"What do you want anyway? I mean do you want to get married?" A red light went off in Spencer's brain. "I mean in the abstract. Do you want a family? Do you want to…wait for certain things until you're married? What?"

"I would like to marry someday, yes, and have children of my own. But I know I don't want to start a family until after I have my bachelor's degree, I don't want to try to do that full time and raise a family."

"And that's, what, five or six years?"

"About that; granted I know that puts me at thirty-two at the earliest, but I don't want a full quiver, one or two children would be enough for me. That way I can give them each the attention they deserve."

And he would be thirty-six at best, not exactly past the threshold for schizophrenia, but so close to it that the odds would be on his side. "I can understand that."

"And if it were to come up I don't think I would marry for at least a year, maybe a year and a half."

"Oh?"

"I want ample time to learn how to live independently; especially if I happened to be married to someone who traveled often for work."

"Good point."

"I…I think I'd like to be betrothed for a time first. Committed to working toward that with someone, to getting to know them, to sharing experiences with that in mind. Belonging to but still somewhat independent, until I'm comfortable enough to marry as an equal, more or less. Even if he is, say, my alpha, someone I can trust with….everything. Does that make sense?"

Her alpha? "I think so."

"As for the other…" She was quiet a moment, then she chuckled a little. "I'm almost afraid to answer in case it will sway your feeling."

"I could say the same."

"How firm are your convictions?"

"Very."

"As are mine. In that case…" Susanna took a deep breath. "I want to wait, not for everything but for the…major part. But I'd like to hear your answer before I give my reasoning."

"I want to wait as well." Spencer replied, even as he sighed a little in relief. As hard as it was to admit, even at his age he wasn't quite ready. "There are certain biochemical changes that occur when you…we need to be able to say this, don't we?"

"According to Marsha."

"When you have intercourse, that binds you to the other person. That's probably where the myth of losing pieces of your heart got started. I don't want to get bound to and torn away from a large number of women. No, that's not it."

"Oh?"

"I've had a…lot of losses over the years, my dad, my mentor, good friends. I don't want to become that close to someone and then have them leave. Not that marriage is a guarantee but it comes with the best odds."

She smiled at him. "Your reasoning is sounder; I just want the romance of being able to say him and him only."

Spencer felt his ears catch on fire again. "Well there is that."

"I don't want to wait for everything though."

"Oh?"

"Yes, the whole idea of going from nothing to your first kiss at the altar to, well, everything a few hours later doesn't make sense. What if you don't feel that way about each other?"

"Good point."

"For example, I'd, um…if I may, I'd like to look at you."

Spencer felt the world slow to a crawl around him and the night air grow thick and heavy. There was a low brick wall right there, holding back part of the hill, just right for him to sit and be at her height. "All right."

She stepped closer, close enough for him to shift his legs out of the way. Her touch was as light as butterfly wings over his hair, his brow, gently skimming the sharp angles of his cheeks. She traced up the angle of his nose and for a moment he almost felt fear as she lightly felt the curves of his eyes and feathered his lashes. Then back down over the hollow of his cheeks to cup his jaw and brush warm fingers over his lips, testing their softness, their resilience. Finally she traced down over his chin and the fine bristles coming out on his neck to his collarbones where her hands rested. "You are a very handsome man, Dr. Reid." She murmured. "May I…?"

He felt intoxicated, high, swimming through a drugged haze. She was so close he could catch her scent, the herbal fragrance of her soap, the tang of sunscreen, something rich and almost floral under it. She was so close he could feel her heat, almost feel her curves against him, could feel her skirt against his thighs. "I…"

Her fingers traced back up, sure of the topography now, traced back up to his mouth before she leaned forward and gently pressed her lips to his. It barely lasted long enough for his befuddled brain to realize what was happening. "I'm sorry." She murmured as she pulled away.

Spencer Reid had been kissed exactly three times in his life. The first time had been overwhelming and shocking; the second time was revolting and horrible. This was different. This was comfortable in it gentleness, safe in its time and place and order. "I'm not." He murmured back, before threading fingers through hair as soft and warm as down feathers and cradling the back of her head and for the first time ever he kissed the woman before him and it was right at last.

It was forever and not nearly enough time before that kiss broke. She rested her temple against his for a moment. "Hi." She said softly.

He had to smile; he just realized it as well. It had been teasing on the edge of everything but tonight made it all concrete and real, he really did love her. "Hi." He replied, and then he kissed her again. This time he teased her lips apart, before tasting her as Lila had tasted him. She tasted of cinnamon and milk and honey and as she made some small sound and pressed against him, her arms twining around his neck, he felt that hot, dark thing unfurl within him and threaten to consume him. She's feeling it too, he realized, it's taking her too. She not ahead of me or behind, she's right here with me where no one else has ever been.

"Yes." She finally murmured against his lips. "Yes."

And the night sky spun around them.