"Come on! It'll be FUN!" Ellen insisted as she started pulling clothes out of my closet.

"A frat party at 25 does not sound fun, it sounds like arrested development at best, sexually predatory at worst." I responded.

"You're spending too much time with Professor Curly Hair, not everything is a psycho-sexual phenomenon of some kind." She insisted, "Also you say 25 like it makes us geriatric, we're only two years older than the average undergrad senior, not everyone at a frat party are 18 year olds doing shots for the first time. I was explicitly invited by the chapter president and I think it'll be fun." I had to hold back from rolling my eyes.

"OK, so you can go and I'll keep my dignity here." I said, throwing the tank top she had tossed my way back at her.

"'Dignity'" Ellen scoffed, "Staying home to rub one out to your older professor is hardly more dignified than coming to a party with your best friend."

"Would you stop that?!" I insisted, "You make it sound like we're fucking, he's just helping me."

"Yeah, yeah, and then you come home and moon over how pretty he is." She snapped back at me. "You need to socialize! You need to do something other than work and school, you need human interaction that isn't just me or your unrequited inappropriate crush." I sighed loudly, she was right. I knew she was right. It's not like I was anti-partying, I had just been so wrapped up in everything else that I stopped prioritizing it entirely.

"Fine." I said, "But you're paying for the cab over!" As Ellen jumped on the couch to hug me.

My favorite part of going out in any capacity was indulging in the style and make-up I mostly have to avoid to be taken seriously in academic settings, fishnets under a tight denim skirt with a black glitter, low cut tank top. Smokey eyes, maroon lips, and my noisiest bracelets, yeah I already felt like I was having fun again. Ellen and I arrived at the house party, and she quickly disappeared into the arms of her oh so raved about chapter president. "Go! Talk to people!" She shouted as she giggled away.

Great! I thought to myself. I sighed audibly and made my way to the kitchen to collect a drink, if I was here and doing this I might as well get wasted. After a couple drinks alone in the corner I found myself pulling out my phone and looking over the text conversation I'd been having with Spencer, he had – despite his quip – texted me when he arrived home safely.

"Back safe in my apartment, just letting you know, per your request."

"Oh good! No violent crime happened upon you then. :P"

"No! Did you really think it would? I didn't mean to worry you."

"No, Professor, it was a joke, that's what the emoji is for."

"Ah! I see, I don't text much. Tone is less clear over text."

"Well feel free to call, instead next time. :)"

The rejection sensitivity had kicked in at his lack of response. Maybe that was too forward or inappropriate a thing to say. But could he really blame me? We were blurring the lines of "appropropriate" behavior more everyday, how was I supposed to square something that small. Ugh. The alcohol was supposed to help me not think about this.

"Hey! 'Miss Prescott', right?" said a strange voice, suddenly breaking me out of my train of thought. I looked up to see a tall boy, probably 21ish, with blue eyes and curly black hair, approaching me. "You're in Professor Reid's Tuesday class, right?" he asked me again after I blinked at him confused.

"Uh, yeah, yes. Yes I am." I replied, reaching my hand out, "You can call me Rosie, though, only Professor Reid is allowed to call me 'Miss Prescott'." I joked.

"Jacob! Nice to formally meet you. Prof. picks on you so much in class, though, I feel like I do already." I raised my eyebrows at that comment, I hadn't noticed it consciously, but he was right. Spencer cold called me at least once every session and I was always the first hand he picked if mine was up. "Your drink is looking a little empty there, can I get you anything?" he asked, flashing me a giant smile that I'm sure the freshman girls swooned over.

Well, why the hell not? If I was going to be this horny over Professor Reid, I might as well try flirting it out of my system. "Sure, sweetheart." I smiled back, observing as he poured me a cup from the punchbowl on the counter. "Go ahead and tell me about yourself." Jacob and I spent the next hour and half drinking and playing party games. At about 1:30 am a tipsy Ellen swung back around to let me know she was going to her sister's house for the night, having forgotten she'd promised her mother she would attend church with them in the morning.

"You stay! Keep having fun!" She insisted, eyeing Jacob as she did it. "Just text me when you're home safe!"

By this point I was considerably drunker than I had intended to be, but the environment seemed to have resurfaced my youthful overconfidence and continued drinking. "So," Jacob said to me, "for a film studies major you seem to really understand the material in Reid's class. I'm a pre-law student and I can barely keep up." This was the first time we had circled back to Reid's class in two hours of conversation.

"Oh no, not really." I assured him, "I just utilize his office hours very well, he's always happy to go over stuff one-on-one for anyone who needs it." That's probably true, I thought to myself. I'm not special, I'm just the person who bothered to ask.

"Well," Jacob said as he started putting his arm around me slowly, "I'd appreciate, and prefer it, if you wouldn't mind paying forward that one-on-one time with me sometime." Smooth, I'll admit. But unfortunately frat boys weren't my type, fun to play with, but not something I wanted to lead on.

"Ha! I'd be a useless tutor to you." I said, slightly slurring my words as the hours of alcohol started to hit in full. "I think I need to head home now, it's almost-" I pulled out my phone to check the time, 2:19 am… and an 8% battery. Oh fuck. My phone would surely die before an Uber could get to me.

"You sure?" Jacob asked as his other hand rested on my thigh, "You could always stay here if you're too drunk to get home." While I'm sure he probably meant well, the proposition was enough to take me from wanting to get home to wanting to leave.

"Oh, no, yeah, I'm sure. I didn't drive here I uh," I didn't want to confess the battery life on my phone, "I'll call a ride, it's fine." Walking it'll have to be I figured. I made my way to the door, tripping at least twice. Fuck. This was never going to work, I was miles away, I wouldn't even know how to walk back without my phone if I tried. I sat on the porch of the house, rubbing my head. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Ellen was passed out at her sister's, I didn't have anyone else in this city to call. Well. I guess, that isn't technically true, a slightly mischievous voice from the back of my head told me. NO! No, I can't do that. I sighed and turned around to notice Jacob staring at me intently from inside the house. Sufficiently creeped out, I sighed and accepted my only option.

I scrolled down my phone, a stress inducing 4% now hovering in the corner, until I found Spencer's name. He'd saved it like that. As Spencer Reid, not Professor. Ring… ring… ring…

"Rose?!" His confused and panicked voice answered. "Is everything okay?" He didn't sound nearly as tired for three in the morning as he should, I thought to myself. What if he was doing something important? Something I ruined with my phone call?

"Hi Spencer," I crocked out as quietly as I could. "I'm… I'm really sorry but can you please– can you please come get me? I'm at the Alpha-Delta-something frat house and I don't have a safe way home." GOD, he must think I'm an irresponsible child with a sentence like that.

"That might not be a great idea, Rose." He replied, hesitation and worry mixed up in his voice.

"Professor please," I whispered so low, I was almost about to cry. "My phone is about to die, I can't call an uber, and I'm– there's a guy being too comfortable." I heard his breath hitch at this sentence.

"The Alpha-Delta-Omega fraternity house, I'm on my way." He said, his voice sounding hard and stern in a way that was abnormal for him.

"Thank y-" I started before I was cut off by my phone dying. Great. It's fine. It'll be fine. He knows where you are and he knows every route in the city, he'll get here. About 15 minutes later Jacob came back out and sat next to me on the porch, an appropriate distance away.

"Hey, you sure you ok?" He asked, "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I just thought we were–"

"Yeah, I'm good." I cut him off, "Uber is coming, I'm just waiting." I lied. I doubt Spencer would want other students to know what he was doing, and frankly neither did I. "And we were, I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, but I just wanted to have a fun time. I'm 25 years old, and you aren't even supposed to be drinking yet." I told him gently with a smile, hoping he wouldn't get mad.

"No sweat! I get it, not trying to be a cougar, I can respect that." He joked. I admit it made me laugh. "I just want to make sure you're getting home safe." He finished. Just as he said that, a car familiar to me pulled up. Spencer.

"That's me!" I chimed as I popped up to head towards the car, unfortunately, Spencer popped out to look around for me.

"Hey, am I super drunk or is that Professor Reid?" Jacob asked. Fuck.

"You're super drunk!" I assured him, "You're super drunk and we were talking about him so much earlier, it's a psychological trick, I bet Reid could tell you about it if you ask him." spit it out as fast as I could without overly slurring my words, but the ground was spinning again after standing up so fast and I desperately needed to get out of here. I turned to rush into Spencer's car. "I'll see you tuesday!" I shouted.

I stepped into Spencer's car and slammed the door shut. I closed my eyes and put my head between my legs to try and stop my head from spinning. Spencer pulled the car away wordlessly. "Thank you," I whispered out, still not looking up. He still said nothing. "I'm sorry." I tried, peeking up this time. He remained quiet, but his knuckles were a stark white against his steering wheel.

"Do you need to throw-up?" He finally asked, in that same stern voice I heard on the phone earlier. "Don't try not to just because you're in my car, if you need to throw up that's your body protecting you from alcohol poisoning." He started straight ahead, not even glancing at me.

"No," I responded, "I'm ok, head spinning, but not nauseous." I assured him.

"There's water next to you. Drink it." Spencer told me, still staring at the road, knuckles still white. I sat up and did as he said, once I got a good look at the road around me I realized something.

"Spencer, this isn't the way to my house." I told him. But he knew that, he had to know that. What on earth was he doing?

"I know." he said back.

"Spencer? Spencer, where the hell are you taking me?" I asked, my voice starting to raise.

"My apartment." Still not looking at me.

"Why?!" I demanded to know. He was back to not responding, but his grip on the wheel somehow got tighter. "Spencer, fucking answer me!" I finally slurred out in a full on yell. That's when Spencer suddenly pulled over aggressively, all but slamming on his breaks on the side of the road. Finally, he turned to look at me, a specific type of anger and intensity I couldn't fully place boring into me.

"Because!" He told me, his voice raised but not quite a yell, the stern tone you take with a misbehaving child demanding you explain their punishment. "Because I need to make sure you weren't drugged, or that you don't throw up on your own vomit, or get alcohol poisoning, because if you were drunk enough to call me like that, all of these possibilities I took responsibility for when I agreed to pick you up!" His right hand had made its way from the wheel to my arm, gripping me tight but not painfully as he explained. "And I know your roommate must not be home, because otherwise you would have called her instead of me, meaning I can't take you home just to leave you alone. Is that clear enough?" He asked, I blinked about 400 times before nodding my head yes to his question. "Good." He said, leaning back into his seat. "Now keep drinking your water, we're almost there." He added as he pulled back onto the road.

I had never seen him angry like that before. It was an intensity I hadn't known him to be capable of. I suppose there was a lot about him that I didn't know. I should be scared of a man who yelled at me like that. I should be questioning ever being alone with him again. But I wasn't. Quite the opposite, the intensity made me feel safe, protected, almost. And unfortunately, more turned on by him than ever. I closed my eyes again, as the weaving of the roads was making my head spin worse. Once I felt the car stop I took a deep breath and heard his door slam shut, I took a deep breath, maybe I can avoid completely discrediting myself to him if I can just… walk to his door without stumbling. Suddenly I felt a cold air against my skin, he had opened my door for me, his hand waiting to help me out. I took it and somehow still managed to trip out the door.

"I got you, come on." He whispered into my ear as he caught me, softer than his tone earlier. Help helped me all the way up to his apartment, it was the most beautiful shade of green, with books and lamps everywhere. It felt like an old-timey library. "You should go lie down, the bedroom is that way." He pointed down the hall. I looked at him dumb founded.

"Don't be stupid, I'm not taking your bed." I almost yelled at him, trying to speak as clearly as I could. "I can Not-Choke-On-Vomit on the couch!" I indignantly walked over and planted myself down far too fast for how dizzy I still was. My head in my hands again, I felt him sit down next to me, and hesitantly start petting my hair, gently.

"You're gonna feel like shit in the morning." He whispered, sounding worried.

"Yeah, yeah I know." I sighed out. "Thank you for coming." I moaned, unconsciously leaning into the comfort of his touch, before fully passing out on his shoulder.