A/N: Hello again, everyone! Sorry if I've been slow lately with this and the previous chapters. Writer's block sucks—I've said this before, and I'm totally not afraid to repeat it. Plus, my life offscreen can be a lot. Again, I'm still taking one day at a time, hoping—and praying—for the better of things as time passes.

Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds.

Previously on Criminal Minds…

"Do you think they'll happen to us?"

"Us adopt? [...] That's a life-changing decision to make. […] Still, Spence…"

"It's a scary processing thought. […] But I think we'd be giving a baby the opportunity of a lifetime if we adopt."

"…I want us to welcome a baby into our home. I want to make a difference in their lives, and I know you want to, too..."

"You know adoption takes a lot of work, and I do mean a lot of work, but if you get through the steps right and don't give up, you'll be giving the baby you adopt the home they deserve…."

"We've been picked. […] Someone wants us to adopt their baby."

Spencer clamped his favorite silver watch over his dark navy crewneck sweater-clad sleeve. Sometimes he preferred to wear his watch outside his sleeve. He had his reasons—sometimes, it was to save time when he wanted to know the time; occasionally, even wearing jewelry itched his wrist. It's one of his many idiosyncratic.

"Lise!" Spencer called for Élise—she was in the bathroom—while checking the time. "You don't want to be late." He smoothed down his sweater and had his hands on his wrist. Spencer looked at the white bathroom door and began looking concerned. She'd been in the bathroom for a long time—ten minutes and twenty-nine seconds and counting.

Spencer rightfully feared the worst and knocked frantically on the door. "Élise? Are you alright?!"

"Door's open, babe," said Élise from the other side. A relieved Spencer burst into the bathroom, only to find a hunched Élise sitting on the clean porcelain toilet seat; her legs in a somewhat awkward position and her fingers locked together. "I'm okay."

Spencer patted his chest. "You had me worried there for a moment, thinking something terrible had happened to you," he squatted beside her to reach her level if that were to make her feel more comfortable. "You okay?"

Élise began pecking her half-bitten manicured nails. "Maybe this wasn't a good idea."

"Adopting a baby?" Spencer traveled his hand around her back. "You know we've talked about this even when we were engaged and after we married. We're doing a great thing for Someone in need."

"Believe me; I know we're doing a good thing, but…" Élise moved her shoulders up once and then down, and she nibbled at her thumbnail for about two seconds before forcing herself to stop. "You know how I can get. I act all confident, but not to the point of being cocky and arrogant, but I can definitely be insecure and…fragile."

"I know; I'm a profiler," Spencer replied with a sly smile. "I know more about you than you know about yourself. Like how you pick and bite your nails when you're nervous; the same with you playing with your hair. Or how you often avoid eye contact when I'm talking to you about these kinds of things that make you nervous and antsy. Everything'll be fine, I promise."

"You're such a know-it-all." Élise gave him a look. "But I love you."

Spencer smiled and reassured Élise with a kiss on her head. "Told you." He glanced at his watch again. "We don't want to be late."

The latter's security detail drove Spencer and Élise to the building. After Spencer got his satchel and Élise had her bags, they were escorted into the building; her detail discreetly trailing behind her.

The building interior looked the same as ever; their footsteps echoed the dark ceramic tiles, posters, and photographs of happy and smiling adopted couples, single parents, and young and old children on the light silver painted walls. Élise couldn't help but have this feeling as if they were looking down at her and staring her down. Like they were talking to her. She wondered if Spencer was feeling the same.

Spencer felt just as nervous as Élise. He held her hand tight and whispered assuring words to her, promising that it'd be alright. It had to be okay. No—better than alright; it was going to be okay. Otherwise, they would not have been picked by Someone who wanted them to adopt their baby, let alone be approved for them to be adopted by the agency in the first place.

After being welcomed by the same two front desk administrative assistants, Emmett Russell, and Daisy Wrenley, when the two approached the front desk, the latter escorted them to one of the agencies' conference rooms.

The walls were a beautiful smooth shade of steel blue, patterned gray carpeting, and a few framed photographs; it smelled like lavender and purple scents, but it wasn't overwhelming but light and airy, and Spencer and Élise sat next to each other in dark brown leather swivel chairs around the large walnut conference table.

Élise helped herself to one of the mini complimentary water bottles that sat on the table next to a bouquet of sunflowers, tulips, and yellow roses in a topaz-colored cube glass vase. She unscrewed the cap, took a swig, screwed the lid back on, and placed it in front of her.

"Sadia should have been here by now," an antsy Élise stared at her phone.

Spencer patted Élise's knees. "She'll be here; you said she was running late."

"It's official," Élise backed in her seat, leveled her head up to the ceiling, threw her hands up, and let them slap her legs. "This is a sign. A sign that we shouldn't be adopting a baby."

"For someone who is this country's AG, you are such a drama queen." Spencer remarked.

"I'm not in the mood for a compliment like that."

Spencer looked away to chuckle to himself, and he and Élise watched the double doors open and their attorney for the adoption. Sadia strode in with her leather briefcase in one hand and a takeout smoothie cup before she threw it in the nearest trash bin.

"I told you I'd be here," Sadia greeted Élise with an air kiss before sitting down next to her. "Last minute wedding planning and honeymoon deciding."

Élise smiled; she was happy for her engaged friend. "Where are you two going for your honeymoon?"

"We're thinking either somewhere in Africa, like Tanzania, Kenya, Madagascar, Morocco, South Africa, St. Thomas, or Antigua."

"Kudos again for your engagement," said Spencer before the doors opened again. Their case worker, Carlos, walked in and held the door for two people. One was a middle-aged woman with a chestnut brown skin color, her curlyish hair lengthening up to her chin, wearing a black-and-white cap sleeve dress that went to her knee and kitten heels.

Spencer and Élise's eyes dilated a bit, and their mouths slightly opened when they realized the older woman was there with a teenage girl who couldn't be at least sixteen or seventeen. Spencer profiled the young girl's body language. From the way she tried to avoid eye contact when she and the older woman walked into how she had her hands positioned in front of her.

Still, Spencer, Élise, and Sadia stood up and greeted Carlos and the older woman. The young girl just gave a silent wave to everyone before sitting down. She sat next to the older woman, and Carlos sat in the middle.

"Let's get started, shall we?" Carlos pushed his black Ray-Ban reading glasses up his nose and pulled out some manila files filled with thick documents. He turned his head. "Doctor?"

The doctor cleared her throat after having some water. "I'm Dr. Maia Ursula Payen, psychologist, counselor, and volunteer social worker with D.C. social services." She then gestured to the shy teenage girl. "This is Nevaeh Varane."

Nevaeh waved again meekly.

"You want to tell us about yourself, Nevaeh?" asked Élise, giving her a polite smile.

Nevaeh moved a piece of her hair back and continued looking down at the table. Dr. Payen caressed Nevaeh's enfolded hands. "She's not much of a talking person; she's allowed me to do most of the talking for her." Clasping her hands as well, Dr. Payen continued, "An only child, Nevaeh has lived in the D.C. area all her life and has been in the foster care system since she was about eight. Her parents died in a car crash."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Élise replied softly; Neveah responded with a shoulder shrug.

Dr. Payen breathed a sigh. "She's a straight-A student, a senior at McLean High School, and volunteers her time at shelters. She's currently a resident at Genevieve's Haven, a home for pregnant teen mothers run by an old schoolmate of mine, Dr. Collen Huang."

Spencer nodded his head, impressed. "Oh, that's nice."

"So, Neveah, how far along are you in your pregnancy?" asked Sadia.

"I, uh…took her to my OBGYN, and she's eight weeks, so two months."

"So, you're due in late April/early-to-mid May?" Spencer estimated the due date in his head.

Dr. Payen shook her head. "Yes. Around that time, yeah."

Élise spoke up again after having another swig. "Obviously, we will compensate you for all your medical expenses. And believe me, you'll be receiving the best care ever."

Sadia started the negotiation terms. "Any other compensation you'd like to have? Like school, tuition, clothes, appointments?"

"If you'd like," Neveah finally spoke up; she had a bit of a meek and shy voice. "I mean, I'm applying for full scholarships to go to university, but I've been used to hand-me-downs."

"We would work out a reasonable allowance for you to get you some new clothes," Sadia suggested before her arm swung in Spencer and Élise's direction. "My clients are willing to open adoption, but if you want to, we're open to semi-open adoption or evolving relationships. You don't have to decide now."

Neveah tucked Dr. Payen closer and whispered in her ear. Dr. Payen replied to the young girl, "We're open to an evolving relationship for now."

Sadia looked to Spencer and Élise for an answer, and the two simultaneously nodded. "Understandable."

"And last but not least, the father," Sadia shrouded her fingers again. "Is there anything we should know about him? Does he approve of what you're doing…?"

Neveah's eyes widened, and her lips clamped together before she covered them with her palm. "Uh, excuse me…" she gently pushed Dr. Payen aside, not wanting her assistance for now, and got up, her knees banged against the table, and half-ran out of the room.

"Was it something I said?" Sadia immediately felt remorse.

"You won't have to worry about the father," said Dr. Payen, trying to break down how to choose her words carefully. "He…was stabbed in prison. He's dead."

"For what?"

"Sexual assault. Neveah's carrying her…foster father's child."

Sadia, Spencer, and Élise all felt like a brick wall had just hit them. "Say what?" Élise thought she needed a stop-rewind-and-pause moment. "You mean to tell me…?"

"The foster father had a history of…inappropriate touching…molesting and even…raping some of his foster daughters. His wife didn't do anything to stop it, so… she's in jail, too."

Élise felt her arms and face prickling from the goosebumps but chose to ignore it and went back into playing-it-cool mode. "Well, she's doing an admirable thing, despite the…circumstances."

Sadia pulled out the drafted documents and papers and slid them over to Dr. Payen and Mr. Birger.

Everyone, minus Neveah—she was still in the bathroom, met up in the semi-dim-lighted vestibule.

Dr. Payen adjusted the leather strap of her large black zip tote bag and shook everyone's hand again. "I'll update you to know how she's doing, and I'll definitely make sure you two know everything as soon as possible."

"Of course, and thank you so much, Doctor." Élise firmly shook her hand again before watching the women's bathroom door open, and out came Neveah with her hands in front of her, still avoiding any eye contact. "You take care of yourself, okay?"

Neveah nodded her head meekly while having a sip of Ginger-Ale and had one hand in her hoodie pocket. She waved goodbye while Dr. Payen walked beside her out of the building.

After washing her face, Élise sprayed some essence on her face and gently dabbed it dry with her clean hands before applying an ampoule, serum, eye cream, and moisturizer. Since she started using essence and ampoule, her skin felt plumper and softer, and it made her skin brighter and glowing in the morning.

After completing her skin routine, Élise left the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Now, she watched Spencer rereading one of the pregnancy books he had when she was pregnant.

"You okay?" Élise got into bed next to him.

Spencer closed the book and placed it on the nightstand next to his cell phone and table lamp. "Yeah, just wanted to catch up on some reading."

Élise rotated her body to face her husband. She had her elbow on the pillow and her fist on her temple. "You know I'm not the one pregnant, right?"

"I know; it's just that…"

"Still…" Élise emitted through her nose. "I get how she wants to have an evolving relationship with us right now. Baby steps—no pun intended. After what she went through…" she soon laid on her back and tightened her finger together. "I always say trust is a very fragile thing."

""The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them." Ernest Hemingway."

Élise smirked to herself. "That man wrote some of the most prominent American literature ever. The Sun Also Rises. A Farewell to Arms. For Whom the Bell Tolls. The Old Man and the Sea. Such classics."

Spencer had to meet up at the jet with everyone else since, from what Garcia told them…it was a bad one.

Over 150 people dead in a deadly plane crash in Colorado.

"Ooh!" Séraphine watched as she watched pennies in an aluminum foiled sturdy boat float in a small tub of water. Her class was learning about the Penny Boat Challenge: building a mini vessel that can hold the most pennies or small coins before it sinks. This is fun!"

Ms. Ortiz spoke up. "You see, clase, buoyancy, and density are related; seeing how much an object might float or sink," she took out a blue pen and scribbled on the whiteboard. "Mass of an object against its volume."

For one of the team, this case hit a little too close to home, reminding them of one of the worst tragic days that's ever happened in U.S. history.

A lone survivor from the plane crash has come to light, along with new evidence after dealing with some anarchists…

The crash was no accident…

Meaning Someone took control of the plane and caused it to crash.

Élise had just finished releasing her press statements for the day when she was called in by the President…along with the Deputy AG, Homeland Secretary and Deputy, Transportation Secretary, and Deputy, for an emergency meeting about the Colorado jet crash.

The team managed to find a connection with one of the victims to a Hayman Vasher, a former aerospace engineer; he's already targeted another flight after all flights in the U.S. were ordered to hold. With orders from the President issuing two F-16 Falcon fighter jets, they knew they didn't have much time left.

Élise was in the John F. Kennedy Room with most of his secretaries, Cabinet, and advisors on the flat panel displays of another potential flight crash. On the outside, she looked as stoic as anyone else, even the President, but on the inside, she felt nervous.

If it had to be done, the plane would be shot down.

Let's hope it won't come to that.

Fortunately, the pilots regained control of the plane; the flight landed immediately, and the unsub was dead.

On the plane ride home, the team eyed the President, releasing a briefing to the press and the nation in the James S. Brady Press Briefing room; Élise stood off-stage.

"Hey, can I ask you all something?" Kate spoke up and had a somber look on her face.

"Anything, kid."

"Of course."

Kate asked again. "Where were you on 9/11?"

Now it was afternoon time. Both Spencer and Élise got off work early. With the bison meat she had delivered to the station before Spencer left Colorado with the team, the two were now preparing them for dinner along with the garlic butter sauce to go with it along with roasted potatoes and a leafy salad.

After Spencer heated the olive oil on high heat after Élise completed doing the sauce, he lightly seasoned the bison steaks with salt and pepper on the blockboard and added them to the skillet.

"It's been a while since I cooked a steak, so…" Spencer began estimating the time to cook each other for approximately three minutes.

"Did you know that bison is said to be leaner than beef and have fewer calories and cholesterol than chicken, ostrich, and fish?"

Spencer covered his mouth when Élise mentioned 'fish.' "I think I just vomited a little bit when you said 'fish.'"

Élise twisted her mouth. "Oh, sorry."

"Can I ask you something?"

Élise finished mincing the vegetables. "Yeah."

"Where were you on 9/11?"

Élise sighed heavily. "I was in English class at MCC. Why, you ask?"

"You know our new member, Kate Callahan?"

"Yeah." Élise placed the salad essentials in the mixer.

"She had a sister and brother-in-law who died when the American Airlines Flight 77 flown by Al-Qaeda terrorists crashed into the Pentagon. And since then, she and her husband have been raising her niece, Meg."

Élise heaved another sigh. "Sorry to hear that…That day is one of those where-were-you moments that's inbred in one's mind. People who lost loved ones that day...It really was one of the worst days in this country's history."

"And now that you think of it, they never knew that their loved ones weren't coming back to them," Spencer said, waiting for the exact time to turn the steak to the other side. "Or even got to say goodbye."

"My mom always said to take time to say 'hi,' 'goodbye,' or just anything good because you'll never know if it'll be the last thing you say to them."

Spencer turned the steaks to the other side; it was just the right time to do that. "I never take advantage of that; why'd you think I always text or call you?"

"Same here."

"I love you." Spencer smiled.

Élise smiled back. "And I you."