A/N: Hello again, everyone!

Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds.

I've decided to skip The Return episode and go to Strange Fruit, but considering how Savannah, Morgan's newest love interest, appeared in the episode, she and a little bit of the episode be mentioned.

Fair warning: mentions of racism.

Élise decided to turn one of the finished and spacious rooms in the basement into her own personal wood-paneled home office. She had recently redone it—thanks to the help of an old associate whose spouse is now an interior designer—and it was to her liking. Handcrafted executive desk with hand-painted finishing and rub-through, deep rich painted walls, leather settee, and office chair, built-in shelving and custom cabinetry, a mini fireplace, fridge, and television above it, knotted-pile Oriental rug, and a vintage Italian butterfly chandelier.

Since Thanksgiving was less than two weeks away, Élise needed to have just one last look at the menu since everyone; from Spencer's family in Las Vegas to her own family, was going to be at the house for the holiday.

Before it was dinnertime, Élise logged onto her computer and checked her to-do list leading up to the day, and everything was going accordingly. She and Spencer got the most important ingredients and supplies, including the non-perishable goods and drinks, ordered the turkey, made room in the freezer, including the one in the guest house in case there wasn't any more room, and got the decor.

Now that she was finished with the cooking and cleaning schedule, all that was left was the seating chart, but she decided to save that for later this week.

Seeing how it was dinnertime, she logged off her computer and strolled out, heading for the elevator. Pressing the button to take her to the first floor, she flinched when her phone rang in her hand and saw the caller ID was from a blocked number. She answered it.

"Hello?"

The case was a bittersweet one; while the team managed to arrest the unsub and his "soldier" accomplices, he, no doubt in a way with his brainwashing effect, traumatized them.

Spencer was happier than ever to be home and even happier that they would just be doing paperwork; it wasn't the most "exciting" thing to do, but at least it'll take his mind off the case.

Reaching home, Spencer chugged some of Chicago's finest cuisine in the fridge, knowing Élise would have him sleeping on the couch if he didn't. Yet he started to worry when he texted her, but she didn't text back, but it was not to the point where it was at the beginning of the year with the hell-and-back that happened.

He had a quick peek at his sleeping dog and children before going to his bedroom and found Élise, in a long-sleeve tee and polka dot pants sleep set, sitting on the bed edge with her hands and legs together.

Spencer wondered because the last time she saw her in that position…

Nevertheless, he sat next to her and kissed her temple. "Hello, my love."

Élise was silent and had this bare look on her face.

"You…okay?"

Her head slowly turned.

"Spencer…?"

He had his hand over hers, waiting to hear what she had to say, whether it was good news or bad news.

"Our President has chosen me as one of his nominates to success as the next Attorney General."

Spencer's mouth opened. "What…?" he huffed.

Élise started chuckling sheepishly. "Yeah…" now she had a smile on her face. "There's a chance I'll be making some serious history in the country if I'm confirmed by our Senate, but…"

She had her hands over her mouth and collapsed her head on Spencer's chest, allowing him to comfort her over this historic news.

"I'm so proud of you…" he kissed her head.

Élise sighed. "The President will be sending out an official press release in the next few days—Monday at the latest, at best, but…" she felt a tear sliding down her face and held her pinkie out. "Promise me that whatever happens…"

Spencer wrapped his pinkie around Élise's. "Ride or die 'till death do us part."

Reid was done with his paperwork, thus ending the workday. After handing it to Hotch, he went back to his desk and started packing his belongings. When Reid got everything he needed, he left the bullpen and made his way toward the elevator. Pushing on the button, he waited for the elevator doors to open, and when they did, he stepped.

Just as he was about to close it, he heard a voice.

"Hold up!"

Reid looked up, and it was Morgan, who was on his phone when he stepped in. Being in the elevator with him was pretty quiet; Reid thought about Élise's impending Attorney General nomination before side looking at Morgan again, still invested in his phone.

Reid guessed in his head what was that about before he just came out and asked, "So, what are you up to that's so…?" he shrugged his shoulders.

"Ah, Savannah might be working late again…" Morgan sounded almost disappointed.

Reid nodded. "Savannah…?"

"The neighbor I've been dating for the past few months," Morgan explained. "She's a doctor at Bethesda General Hospital."

Now Reid recalled her as the date Morgan had to cancel due to the Arizona twins case.

"Interesting…" Reid pushed his lips forward, already sounding intrigued. "Could she be the future Mrs. Derek Morgan?" he asked as the elevator doors opened and they stepped off.

Morgan smirked. "I guess you'll just have to wait and see, pretty boy."

"I guess I will, muscle man." Reid clapped back.

Spencer and Élise took the children with them to the supermarket to get some of the final ingredients and supplies needed for Thanksgiving dinner.

While Élise took Séraphine to the bathroom, Spencer watched Isaac—he played with his activity stuffed animal toy—in his seat while he bagged the groceries after the cashier finished ringing them up.

"$43.89, sir," said the teenage cashier.

Spencer got a 50-dollar bill from his wallet and gave it to the cashier, who gave him $6.11 in return."

The cashier smiled. "Have a good day, sir."

"You, too." Spencer waved, pushing Isaac in the cart. He had only taken a few steps towards the exit when his cart accidentally clashed with another cart.

"Ooff!"

This was enough to make Isaac cry even though tears weren't falling from his face. "Hey-hey-hey, little man…"

The cart patron, who was a woman in her mid-to-late sixties, profoundly apologized. "Oh, I'm so sorry, young man…" she had her hands over her heart. "I'm so sorry for making your little boy cry."

Spencer still tried to soothe Isaac, who seemed to have calmed down with the rubbing circles he applied to his back. "That's okay, ma'am."

"He's such a pretty little boy," the old lady complimented.

Spencer blushed in embarrassment. "Thank you. He got that trait from his daddy here."

The old lady added, "And he must have gotten his beautiful light eyes from his mommy."

Spencer cleared his throat, now rocking Isaac, "Well, actually…"

"Hey, Spencer!" their attention was taken when Élise called out for him, waving and blowing kisses to him while holding Séraphine's hand.

"Hmpf, I better get going," the old lady stiffened herself up and already wheeled her cart out to the exit. "I need to be with my own kind," she upped and downed Spencer as she left. "And you should, too."

Something that the old lady said got to Spencer. He felt almost numb from what she said about rather being with "her own kind."

"Hey, babe…" Élise allowed Séraphine to let go of her hand, and she toddled to her father's leg, hugging it for a few seconds, and Spencer picked her up. Élise saw the pasty look on his face. "You okay?"

Spencer flinched. "Mmm…"

Leaning back in her seat and stretching her neck, Élise wiped her mouth with a clean napkin. "We did a good job on today's dinner, huh, Rose?"

Rose stood up and helped Élise gather the dinner plates. "I give us an A plus," she turned her head and asked, "What did you think?"

"Tastie!" Séraphine licked her fingers.

Élise got hers and Spencer's dishes; her smile faded when she noticed he barely ate from his dinner plate. She glanced at him again, and though he had a smile on his face, there was a certain sadness in his eyes.

"Dezart! Dezart!" Isaac babbled, banging on his high chair table, and burped.

Élise stopped walking, turned around, and hoisted one of her brows. "What do we say?"

Isaac smiled. "Dezart…please…?"

Élise nodded her head. "Much better…"

"Whoo!" Élise came back into the bedroom and sprawled her arms and legs for a few seconds. She pirouetted to the sitting area, where she saw Spencer reading a book. She collapsed on the white chaise as if she was on a fluffy cloud.

"There's nothing like a good stretch before beddy-bye. Especially since Monday is the start of the work week."

Spencer bobbed his head, not looking up from his book. "Mmm-hmm…"

Élise picked her body up a bit. "Tomorrow is going to be the biggest day for me; the day I potentially make history. The day I could be one of the most powerful women in the country, if not the world."

"Mmm-hmm…"

Élise circled her head and perceived that Spencer wasn't listening to her.

"What's up with you?"

Spencer commented back, "What do you mean?"

"You've been on that page for the past few minutes…" now, Élise had her index finger on her temple and thumb under her chin.

"It's an interesting moment on the page," Spencer answered with a gloomy tone.

Now, this really got Élise worried. She got up from the couch and sat on Spencer's lap. "What's up with you?"

Spencer sighed. "When we were at the market today, this lady…" he closed his book. "She complimented Ziggy, but when she saw you and Fifi…she made a rather…unpleasant comment about being with her own kind. And I should, too."

Élise suddenly felt these goosebumps around her arms, and her face prickle as if there were needles all over it.

"Oh, God…" now Élise felt disgusted and snarled. "Her kind? Her kind of people must be ignorant, outdated, blind, and basic to even see something, even when it's staring her dead down in the face. I almost feel sorry for her, and I said 'almost.'"

Spencer shrugged. "And the saddest part is that this is learned and not inherited or genetic or..." he inhaled and exhaled.

"Still," she kissed his temple. "You know this is something Fifi and Ziggy will have to face when they're older; racism, prejudice."

"I know," he stroked Élise's head. "I know. It's a sad reality that's happening every day at any given moment."

Élise now had her head rested on his chest; Spencer kissed it. "When are we going to stop doing this to each other?"

Reid felt a bit drained by the sensitive topic conversation he had with Élise last night, but he hoped being at work would take his mind off things.

And it did.

Almost everyone—even him—in the bullpen was focused on the television, watching the President's breaking news on his Attorney General nominees, and Élise's face was on the screen upon the candidates.

Rossi ambled in and stood by Reid's desk, watching the big news.

"Mmm…" he had his hands in his pockets. "Looks like someone's climbing the high-official ranks of our American government."

Reid had a smile. "I couldn't be any more proud of her."

"And speaking of ranks…" Rossi had one of his hands on his desk. "If Élise does become our Attorney General, would you ever feel intimidated?"

"No…"

Rossi cleared his throat. "A little piece of advice, don't be."

"I take it that's what happened with you?" Reid meekly joked. "Relating to one of your exes?"

Rossi chuckled. "Oh, yeah…"

"Good morning, gentlemen…"

Reid and Rossi picked their heads up and noticed Cruz walking by them with a folder in his hands; people scrambled and went back to work.

"Good morning, sir..." Reid steadily greeted Cruz back.

Soon, they saw JJ pass by them—without even saying hello to them as she was more focused on her phone—and she was walking in the same direction as Cruz.

"Interesting…" Rossi wiggled his brows.

"Come on, Rossi…" Reid brushed off whatever Rossi was probably thinking, though he himself already knew about JJ and Cruz via Élise.

"I've been on to them since day one." Rossi had a crooked pout.

Reid retorted, "But seriously, don't think…?"

"Something's goin' on between them, and it doesn't take a profiler to know that those two…" he connected his two index fingers together.

Reid chuckled entertainingly.

Élise was in her chambers; she had just finished giving her opinions on a few appealing cases when she decided to log into her computer and check out her fellow candidates for the U.S. Attorney General position. There was no doubt she was up against some serious competition.

There was Laura Kenton, a State Attorney with over fifteen years of experience who has worked with some of the biggest and most exclusive law firms in New York and D.C. Jeffery Newlin, a litigator-turned-Representative and Senator from Connecticut, and fellow Harvard Law alumnus. Miles Tinsley, a federal public defender-promoted-Judge from New York and a member of the Federal Reserve Bank.

There was a twenty-five percent chance she would be the nominated Attorney General. And an even greater chance whether or not she would be confirmed by Senate. Now Élise felt her head aching and spinning inside like a gyro top.

Taking a gulp from her sparkling bottled water, she flinched in her seat when she heard her phone ring—she forgot to put it on vibrate. Nevertheless, Élise picked it up and squinted when she saw the quasi-familiar caller ID. After pressing the answer button, she put the phone to her cautiously ear and tentatively said hello.

"Long time no hear, Élise."

Élise's jaw unintentionally fell when she realized it was her old boss, Mr. Wilmington. She fixed herself up in her seat and stammered, "How's it been, sir?"

"Great, and please, call me Bart," he insisted. "You don't work for me anymore, especially since I plan on retiring at the end of the year."

Élise scratched her hair. "You know I'm still not used to it, but kudos on the retirement."

"I do know you're one of the nominees for the U.S. Attorney General position," his voice glowed. "I'm just so proud of you. You will be making some serious history if the President picks you."

Élise sighed. "I've been told that; sometimes, I still can't believe it myself."

The team—and Cruz—are now called to investigate when skeletons are found in the backyard of a home belonging to an African American family in Virginia. Most of the team to the family of three back to Quantico for interrogation, from the parents to the son, while Reid and Blake stayed behind with the medical examiner and the crime scene team to get a better feel of the family house.

With the collaborating work of everyone, the team realized the truth.

Reid collected his belongings and placed them in his satchel bag. After he got what he needed, he gazed at the framed picture of himself, Élise, Séraphine, and Isaac.

He smiled sadly before seeing Rossi walking out of his office; from the looks of it, he looked depressing.

Reid also watched Rossi almost accidentally bump into Morgan. He walked up to Morgan, and the two observed Rossi step into the elevator and still look unhappy when it closed.

"The case got to him?" Reid guessed.

Morgan sighed. "You have no idea."

Unfortunately, Reid's suspicions were right about what Rossi looked so glum when Morgan told him what happened during the interrogation with the unsub.

Before going home, Reid thought he might pay Rossi a visit at his mansion.

Rossi told Reid about an event from when he was a teenager.

"Rossi…"

"I know. I know." Rossi planted his hand over his face and sighed heavily. "I'm not proud of what I did. I still get sick to the stomach just talking about it right now."

Reid nodded. "We've all done things we're not proud of."

Rossi agreed. "Yeah…"

Élise was enjoying finishing up her paperwork in her home office when she heard a knock on the door. Her eyes looked up, and Spencer popped his head in before walking in and closing the door behind him.

"Hey, love…" he pecked her cheek and took note of the music that was playing in the room. "What's the name of the song?"

Élise turned off the music. "Strange Fruit by Billie Holiday. It's quite a dark song, but there's history to it. How was the case?" she asked back.

Reid wafted a moan. "Tough. What we had to deal with…shows what racism can really do with someone."

Élise shook her head. "Yeah, but this country has come a long way, though people prefer to live in the past."

"Two steps forward, one step back."