Chapter Text
“Right, let’s send Prentiss in then.”
The men were arguing again.
This unsub hadn’t responded to anything yet and they only had another four hours left or three women would probably die.
It was all far too dramatic to be left in the hands of the men but unfortunately you were new, and you didn’t want to add in your opinion unless you thought you could actually help. You had been with the team a little less than a year and didn’t feel fully submerged yet, especially being as young as you were.
This guy had been kidnapping women in groups, killing them off as he pleased, rinsing and repeating – no one knew why yet and one of the moronic policemen had brought their suspect in prematurely, so the team was brought in on a clock. It was obvious he did it, but there were rules, now the team only had four hours to get a confession or a body. Neither were looking likely.
The suspect hadn’t responded to Morgan’s anger, Hotch’s daddy routine, Spencer’s facts, JJ’s likeness to his victims or even Rossi’s attempts to relate to his struggles. The guy was perfectly calm and since Garcia wasn’t there to be nice, Prentiss was next in the door.
“What am I aiming for?”
Hotch sighed. He did that a lot. “I don’t know, try and relate to the victims, talk about their families.”
She nodded and went through, coming back out ten minutes later shaking her pretty head.
After that the team decided to comb back through what they did have, pouring over maps and gas station receipts, Garcia’s face on a screen talking about medical bills that weren’t connected but she could look again.
You had decided to go through the interview footage, muting it and focussing solely on the man’s face, looking at any hints of reaction. There were very few, sometimes he shuffled or flinched a bit, but it was mostly when Derek was throwing his weight about looking dangerous.
You would rather have been helping Spencer with his geographical profile, but you didn’t know anything about geography and, standing staring at Spencer’s hands was not the way to help the team right now. If another hour went by, you might try it though.
Looking at reruns of various interviews turned up almost nothing. You started compiling a list of small reactions, ready to compare them until you found a way to get through to the man.
You kept the screen muted; the sound quality was shot to shit anyway.
“JJ?” She looked over, frustrated and tired and you felt for her. Kids and work can’t be easy, especially in cases like this.
“Yeah?”
“I’m comparing reactions. Can you tell me what you were saying here?”
She came to stand over your shoulder, looking at the footage with Morgan and Prentiss in tow. You played the tape and the four of you watched as JJ spoke, the man's reaction was small, but it was definitely there.
“Now what would you call that look?”
“Well, I know what I’d call it, but I don’t think you’ll like it JJ.”
Hotch and Rossi came to join the group, Reid was discussing gas mileage with Garcia at the other end of the room, the two of them showing no interest in what you were doing.
“JJ what did you say to him to evoke arousal of all things?”
She thought for a second then moved her hand to her chest. “I was playing with my necklace, he said it was lovely and asked if it was a gift from my mother.”
You thought for a second. “What exactly were you saying to him when he flinched like that?” You played the tape one more time and she went through it in her head.
“I asked if it was nicer than the things his mommy bought him, trying to talk down to him, piss him off.”
You sat up, startling the team and rewound the footage to one of Morgan’s tries.
“Derek, I need to know what you said here.”
Hotch moved closer to you. “L/N, you think you have something?”
You nodded. “A new angle anyway. Morgan, right here when he flinches.”
Rossi pointed at the chair flying across the room. “I don’t think it was his words kid.”
You ignored him. “Derek, right here.” You rewound it again. “What did you say?”
He looked confused for a moment, sharing a glance with Emily. “It was just big talk, same as JJ, trying to piss him off.”
You ground your teeth, being new sucked. “Yes, but your exact wording please.”
Morgan looked at you a second longer before he was moved along by Hotch. Hotchner didn’t care whether you were or not, he just wanted the job done.
Derek relented. “I think I said he was pathetic or useless. Worthless, something to that effect, what's going on?”
You jumped up.
“Hotchner do you mind if I have a go?”
“What do you think you could get out of him that five seasoned agents couldn’t?”
You ignored JJ, looking at Hotch.
“I suppose it couldn’t hurt.”
He agreed that it couldn’t hurt.
He agreed and off you went – not knowing that the entire team followed you behind the glass.
“Come on Reid, we’re gonna watch your girlfriend’s first interrogation.”
On your way, you removed the claw clip from your hair. Undoing a few buttons on your shirt, you adjusted your bra to push the girls up, making sure there was an acceptable amount of cleavage on show.
Floating into the room with an air of arrogance, you ignored the unsub in favour of staring at the files in front of you. If you’d known you were being watched by more than Hotch, you might have been embarrassed but since you thought it was just you and your unit chief, you didn’t hold anything back.
“So, you’ve kidnapped twelve women so far, killed nine and now we have three to find.”
The unsub tried to speak; you held a finger up to silence him. “Uh, uh baby, mommy’s speaking. Your games a little pathetic don’t you think? Hiding women like they’re blocks?”
You lifted your head to watch as his eyes got wide. His mouth hanging slightly open.
You didn’t think you were the most attractive woman in the world, but you knew how to play men and you were good at it. You also enjoyed it, which certainly helped. You could be anything to get your way, little, dumb, sexy, virgin, slutty. Getting free drinks at the bar used to be a part time job for you before you joined the FBI – it was good to see you hadn’t lost your touch.
The main thing about a man like this was the tone you used when addressing him. You had to keep it arrogant, dominant, light and musical but in a commanding way, sexy and at least an octave under where you would usually speak.
“Now I can see that you’re getting tired.” You put a whiny tone of patroniastion into your voice. “Must be tiring doing all that work and keeping it a secret! Don’t you just wanna be a big boy and tell me where the women are?”
The man didn’t respond but you could tell that he definitely wanted to.
You sat down and flipped opened the file. “Don’t worry honey, we’ve got time.”
*
The team were all standing in shock watching you.
It wasn’t shock for how you handled yourself, everyone knew you were capable, you had transferred over from another team and your reputation had beat you there, but this was different. In the BAU, you were known as the ‘Shy Hire’. You blushed when people mentioned sex, you got cagey around rape cases, you were touchy feely with the team in a nice way, but you never dated anyone, never showed any interest when you were all out drinking, didn’t join in when the girls talked about men and you never engaged in Morgan’s flirting. The team had just assumed you were a virgin or coming off the back of really, really bad relationship.
They didn’t know what to think now.
Watching you sit across from an unsub, your eyelashes batting viciously, and your blouse unbuttoned so far that Hotch would have to file HR reports. This was a new side of you.
It brought a lot of unsaid emotions in the team. Rossi was impressed, but he’d always suspected there was something else to you. JJ was jealous, although she’d never admit that to you. Emily was turned on and after a few drinks she would happily admit that to you. Hotch was unchanged and Morgan sceptical, his distrust of you grew a little when he saw how easy it was for you to change your behaviour. Spencer-
Spencer was about to pass out.
He watched you cross one long leg over the other, elbows on the table grinning like the cat that got the cream, and he felt his knees go weak at an alarming rate.
“Come on. Just be a good boy and work that tongue for me.”
You enunciated every word and Spencer felt like he was crumbling. He could feel an erection coming on, but he couldn’t leave, couldn’t walk away. He blessed his long cardigan, but he knew after another minute of this it wouldn’t be enough.
“Why don’t you open that pretty mouth and tell me where you hid those women’s bodies.”
The man across from her whispered something as Spencer stood getting impossibly harder. He needed to escape. He so desperately wanted you to break this guy just so he could get out of the room, just so you would stop talking like this and go back to the sweet girl he first met.
“What was that sweetheart? Mommy didn’t catch it?” You leaned over the table slightly, one hand on your gun as you motioned for the unsub to speak again, which he did a little louder.
“There are no bodies, they ain’t dead yet.”
It was the first information anyone had gotten since the man’s arrest over ten hours ago, it was impressive, you were impressive. Spencer didn’t care, you were so much more than impressive to him right now.
“She’s got him.”
“I can’t believe it. Who knew that’s what he needed?” JJ sounded pissed but no one mentioned it.
“He just needed a mommy I guess.” Reid shivered at Emily’s words, excusing himself, saying he was going to look over the man’s properties again.
He didn’t want to stand and watch you flirt with a killer.
He didn’t like you in danger.
He didn’t like you like that.
He didn’t like how much he liked it.
He hated how much the praise from the team the next day gave you the confidence to be a little less shy with everyone because now his small crush he had on the new coworker was a full-blown obsession with the secret domme he shared a desk with.
*
You were pleased your little trick had worked. You got enough information for the team to get the women home safely and everyone was really impressed with your ‘secret side’. It made you feel better about being new, it wasn’t the way you had expected but it was nice all the same. The only person that hadn’t gotten warmer towards you was the resident genius.
Spencer hadn’t really spoken to you since that case, it had been two weeks and all you’d received from him were distant niceties. It was strange as you would have considered him your best friend on the team, but you were determined to find out what his issue was in a soft, subtle way.
Your chair hit his converse with a squeak.
“So, what’s up?”
He looked up from his book. Confused and utterly adorable, you had always had a thing for him, he was just so sweet.
“I’m sorry?”
“What’s the deal, have I done something to offend you? What's with the silent treatment?” You said it with a joking tone, a pretty smile on your face and as much pleading as you could put into your eyes without tearing up.
He didn’t respond right away, just ducked his head back into his book. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
You sighed and it ruffled his hair. “Come on Spence! If I’ve done something, you can tell me!! I don’t want us to be at odds.” He didn’t respond and you pouted. “Spencerrrr!!!”
A voice from behind interrupted your long flow of syllables.
“Careful pretty boy, don’t want to make mommy mad.”
You laughed. Morgan had been making comments and jokes like that since your interview, you found it funny, if not annoying, you knew he didn’t mean anything by it, but you didn’t want to get a strangely specific reputation, there was also a strange sense of something else under his friendly teasing, you didn’t know what it was but it didn’t sound good.
You turned back to Reid, waiting for an explanation, to see him sitting stock still. Ridgid even. He looked as though he had stopped breathing, and his eyes were flying around the room, landing on anything but you.
Strange. “ You okay there sweetheart?” At this he jumped up, shaking off any and all comments from yourself or Morgan, sprinting from the room and nearly knocking down a confused Penelope in the process.
“Where is he going ?! We have a case ?!”
*
He was staring at himself in the bathroom mirror, trying to talk some sense into his reflection. It wasn't working but he was trying anyway. Doing the smart thing, laying out what he knew and what it meant. He was scientific to the last.
He’d always had a crush on you. Fact.
He thought you were way too pretty for him, so he’d never tried to act on it. Fact.
He liked the small physical touches from you. Fact.
He liked the pet names. Fact.
It was also a fact that in the almost year he had known you, his crush had grown considerably, and he thought it was feelings bordering on love but as he had never been in love before he wasn’t too sure.
It was also a fact that on more than one occasion you had mentioned how handsome you thought he was. Little comments here and there that seemed sincere, but he wasn’t sure.
It was also a fact that your personal touches now held an undertone of longing for him. He wanted more of it. He wanted to reciprocate; he just wasn’t sure how to.
And it was also a fact that since the revelation of his apparent ‘mommy issues’, the pet names had a very physical reaction on him, and he wasn’t sure how long it would be before you noticed.
He didn’t like to be unsure of facts. It made him nervous, and he didn’t like being nervous.
You were winding the science out of him, one erection at a time.
*
You think you’d figured it out.
You weren’t sure because the very idea of it was absurd, but you had an inkling.
Things had been different ever since that day you interviewed the unsub, you knew that, but the question was why, Spencer didn’t want to talk about it, and no one had seemed to notice anything – not that you would dare ask anyway, but you wanted to know so you did the smart thing and thought back over the last two weeks, the moments in which Spencer seemed especially weird.
You didn't want to push him. You wanted to give him some time then ask again but the look on his face as he ran from the room, the way he wouldn’t look at your afterwards, any words about the case bringing a blush upon his face when spoken towards you. It made you think, and think, and think, until you had a reasonable hypothesis but no clear fire way of experimenting it, you didn’t want to embarrass yourself and certainly not Spencer.
Luckily another unsub gave you a way in.
You knocked on his hotel door, the team choosing to stay the night rather than catch the jet, it was a bad case and at least everyone was injured in some way. You had some bruises to match JJ’s, Morgan and Hotch lost some blood, Dave and Prentiss some dignity. It was a bad case and although everyone just wanted home, it was clear that some rest would be needed so as not to take the case home to families.
You would have been embarrassed seen going into Spencer's room late at night, but as you had just passed Rossi in the hallway on his way to Emily’s room with what looked like a bottle of Jack Daniels, you didn’t think anyone would care.
“Come in.”
You were glad his back was to the door; you were worried if he had seen it was you, he wouldn’t have let you past it.
“Hi.”
He turned so abruptly he nearly fell. “Hi.” He looked nervous and you felt bad for being the one to cause it, but if you were right, you were sure you could fix things and maybe be able to do something about the hopeless crush you had on him at the same time.
“I don’t mean to bother you, I just wanted to check in on you and see how your arm was okay, if you needed help?” You kept your voice sweet, not wanting to spook him.
He had gotten a nasty cut on his arm and needed stitches, he was supposed to change the bandage every couple of hours, and you had seen him try earlier, he was not coordinated enough to do it on his own. Looking at the bed, you could see your math was correct and you were right on time, it was spread with bandages and gauze, all cut into varying sizes.
Not that he would admit it though.
“No, I- I'm okay, doing just fine, thank you.”
You cocked your head at him, he wouldn’t look you in the eye. You were glad for it, if he stayed consistent your experiment would be more accurate.
You sauntered up until you were directly in front of him, two fingers under his chin you lifted his head up to meet your eyes. Finally dropping your voice, you spoke to him in a clear but firm tone.
“Let me help.”
*
Silence. Not a word spoken. He was a genius with an eidetic memory and there was just nothing. Nothing at all. Not a thought in his head. Not a thing but the intention to do exactly what you say.
He backed up to the bed. Thinking maybe it was a fluke. Maybe you just wanted to help. Maybe he was making too much of this in his own head because he desperately wanted it. Wanted you.
He sat down on the edge of the bed. It wasn’t because it felt like an order, it was because he wanted to do well. He wanted to please you. He wanted you to speak like that again. He wanted to hear it forever.
You sat down next to him and held out your hand.
He didn’t say anything, just placed his injured arm gently into your waiting palm.
“Good boy.”
He short circuited. If you had asked him the depth to which the Titanic sunk, he couldn’t have answered with any greater accuracy than he could his own name. This was a new low for his IQ.
He watched you gently clean his arm, place some gauze down and wrap it up. He tried not to move, not to breathe, when he did wince a little at the antiseptic, you stroked his elbow with your thumb, whispering “Shh, I know baby, I know” under your breath, that gave him enough incentive to bear the rest of your ministrations in a stone like state.
It lasted both forever and no time at all.
"There you are pretty boy, all better.”
It wasn’t the same as when Morgan said it. It wasn’t teasing or mocking. There was no familial fondness behind it, but something else entirely.
Honesty.
The way you were looking at him, your eyebrow raised in soft challenge. Not pushing him but not shying away either. He knew that on some level you knew what you were doing. You were a profiler too after all and his reactions hadn’t been subtle.
“You-”
You bit your lip, half smiling, half challenging him. He wasn’t sure if you were tempting him to question this change in attitude or if you were hoping he wouldn’t say a word. He didn’t
know which would be better or what the result would be of either. He didn’t know anything right now and he didn’t like that at all.
But he liked you, so he didn’t say a word on the matter. Just smiled and thanked you, in a shaky voice for your help. Going to sleep the second you left, not trusting himself not to do something childish like touch himself in a hotel.
The worst of it was that he was pretty sure you knew what he was thinking, and you didn’t care, you were enjoying it.
*
You were so looking forward to work the next day.