Chapter Text
What seemed to be a completely normal day of work for Doctor Spencer Reid got completely ruined after told there would be a new addition to the BAU. He famously didn’t like changes, and being the youngest member of the team, he had no other option but to be used to the constant mocking of his co-workers. Meaning that no matter what happened, he would be made fun of.
“You look nervous.” Prentiss starts, Morgan’s lips tug up as he pretended not to pay attention to the beginning of the mock.
“Nervous? I’m not nervous at all. Why would I be nervous?” Reid asks, fidgeting under his desk.
“Don’t worry, Liv is silly, you will like her.” She says and Spencer frowns a bit. Liv, he repeats. That suggests Prentiss knows the girl. More than only her name, she knew her on a personal and probably even friendly basis.
“Liv? Friendly much with the new recruit?” Derek mocks. Spencer hates to admit that he’s kind of glad that for the first time, he’s not the one being mocked.
“I was more worried about the silly part. We don’t need more silliness in here; we have enough with Morgan and Garcia.” Rossi interferes with the conversation. Prentiss places a hand on her desk as if to give her support.
“Olivia worked with me an Interpol case back when she was a student.” Prentiss starts. “She’s brilliant. I have never met someone as observant and sharp as her.”
Spencer felt a tip on his stomach, not wanting to admit he felt a little threatened by the new girl being described as brilliant. He shouldn’t, statistics and logic are for everyone, but he kept wondering where did his job replied, if he was going to be replaced by someone “sillier”, more charismatic or better at the social complexities of the work.
“And where is our newest member at?” Morgan jokes, and Prentiss smiles a little.
“With JJ.” Hotch responds, serious as usual. Reid spares a glance towards JJ’s office, only to find the blinds closed, luckily, what seems like a moment later, JJ appears, followed by a smiling brunette that laughs at something the blonde says.
He feels the air being knocked out of his lungs, so naturally, he starts pinpointing everything that could’ve caused that. Asthma might be one, except he’s never been diagnosed, he places a mental note to have that checked.
When he looks back at where the blonde and the brunette talk, she smiles even wider as she salutes Prentiss with an energetic wave. Reid notes the dimple on her right cheek, not a signal of one on her left side, that intrigues him. Prentiss approaches them and hugs her. A personal hug, a tight one that expresses not only closeness but also some sort of… thankfulness.
They talk briefly, Reid tries to ignore it, feeling the pressure of acting in a socially accepted way, but seeing Morgan’s interest in the conversation, he allows himself to look at them as well. Prentiss and the girl look at them and both immediately return their attentions to our respective computers.
“What do you know about her?” Derek asks Rossi, knowing Hotch tends to consult with him.
“Rotational position for two months, possibility of staying. She’s…” Rossi takes a moment to look at her just as a smile bubbles out of the three of them. “Smiley.”
Reid types and deletes over and over, trying to find his concentration back. Three sets of footsteps approach, and his nerves spike back up. What’s the necessity of changing the team, anyway? For years, the BAU has been working like a well-oiled machine, remembering what he was told at his one and only coding class. If something works, don’t change it.
“This is your desk.” Hotch indicates. Reid wonders when did he join the conversation. “Quick introductions.” He points and leaves.
“That was Hotch, although you already met him.” JJ comments.
“Yeah, I’m kind of scared of the dude.” Olivia comments and Derek chuckles.
“David Rossi.” The man introduces himself. Spencer finally dares to look up, finding them shaking hands as she salutes him with a friendly smile. He asks himself if he should do the same.
“Olivia Ortiz.” She responds.
“This is Doctor Spencer Reid.” Prentiss cuts his line of thought. He stands up and presents him with his hand, which she shakes.
“Phd in what?” She asks him. Her interest struck him for a moment.
“Umh… Chemistry.” He responds.
“And Mathematics, and Engineering. This dude is an eminence.” Prentiss adds.
“And he has other three masters.” JJ continues. Spencer’s cheeks are tinted in a deep shade of red.
“Two, I’m still getting philosophy.” He corrects, unable to control himself. Olivia is smiling.
“And I barely survived through my only one.” She jokes, and the rest agree. Her touch lingers on his fingers for too long right while she’s being introduced to Morgan.
JJ instructs them to walk to the conference room. He follows as Prentiss and Ortiz talk quietly but energetically. The profiler in him keeps trying to get any pointer on her, but she doesn’t show anything. He can’t ever figure out if the whole smiley thing is just a façade.
Spencer sits across from Emily and Olivia. The latter reads the case files lightly, tilting her head and raising her brows occasionally. He wishes he would pay as much attention to the case as she is. She looks up at JJ, big blue eyes framed by dark thick lashes.
His attention returns to the case when both Prentiss and Ortiz look down at the same file. He skims it quickly. Border city, little to no border control, six people dead in the spare of two weeks, three men, three women. All white, all choked from behind with what appears to be a cord, dragged from the scene of crime to a close darker place.
“This is wrong.” Ortiz shakes her head. “This letter is written, in Spanish but full of mistakes. Basic misspellings but colloquial construction. Doesn’t make any sense.”
“Like what?” Reid asks, reading the words. He doesn’t understand it very well. Years ago, he decided to drop his learning on Spanish, claiming it wasn’t challenging enough. Now he regrets it.
“Like this, he has mixed genders. “El próximo vez” The next time, but time in this context in Spanish is feminine, anyone who speaks Spanish would know. This is written phonetically, it doesn’t make any grammar sense.”
“So the unsub is Spanish-speaking?” Rossi leans back.
“He must be.” Emily chimes in.
“My bet is that he doesn’t speak Spanish, maybe a bit, but not nearly enough.” Ortiz shakes her head. “Can I scribble on it?” She asks JJ and Hotch, the blonde seeks for her boss’ approval and when he nods she does as well. “Does anyone have a pen?”
Reid can’t help himself. He passes the pen before anyone else can. She looks up at him and smiles and the weird tip on her stomach returns. She starts scribbling on the note. She corrects a lot for a note that short.
“The unsub doesn’t care about social status or gender, he only cares about race.” Rossi comments.
“He doesn’t even care if the bodies are found or not. He’s not remorseful either. Stabs his victims a lot of times, but not a specific amount. He’s clearly mad at these people, but why?” Reid tilts his head. When he looks up, Ortiz is looking at him before looking back at the note.
“You can do that in the jet. Wheels up in an hour.” Hotch demands while standing up. We all do the same, even Ortiz. “Is your baggage ready?” He asks her. She nods timidly. He does as well and walks out. She whispers ‘wheels up?’ to Prentiss. she just smiles and pats her back twice.
“Thank you.” Ortiz gives the pen back. Reid is sure his heart stopped beating. He smiles a bit, and she does as well before going out of the room following the rest of the group, he stares at the pen for a long moment, wondering what has been going on with him for the whole day.
But when Reid arrives to the jet, she’s already there, face buried in the files, a slight furrow covers her brows as her eyes skim through it. “Hi.” He starts, unable to think of something smarter to say.
She looks up and smile. “Hi, Doctor.” She replies. He cannot decide if she’s mocking his title, but still, he takes a sit next to her. “I thought I would be doing paperwork for the next couple of weeks. I wasn’t expecting to work on a case so quickly.”
“Well, you spoke Spanish when most needed.” He responds, and she tilts her head.
“Prentiss speaks Spanish as well.”
“I suspect that not as well as you.” He adds and the corners of her lips lift up. “Immigrant parents?”
“Both of my parents are scientists. My mom was getting her PhD in Stanford when they had me. We were back in Mexico as soon as she graduated.” She responds. “I was raised between Ciudad de Mexico and here.” She shrugs and flips pages of the case. “I have and idea. All the victims were white, married or engaged to Hispanic people.”
“I don’t think I follow you.” He says.
“Okay.” She moves her hair behind her ears. “Walk with me.”
“Where?” He frowns a bit, and she smiles.
“It’s an expression… Nevermind. What if it’s not so much about the people he’s killing but their partners? I wish we could know if any of them were illegal immigrants.” She tilts her lips.
“We can.” He gets his phone out. Garcia’s number has been on speed dial for the last couple of years, pressing a button and a couple of seconds later, her voice breaks through the tone.
“Aww. I missed you too, Good Doctor.” Garcia starts. Reid notices Ortiz’s lips quirking up in a small smile.
“Garcia, can you please check if any of the partners were illegal immigrants?” He asks.
“Four entered the country illegally.” She responds.
“Hi… Umh. How many of them were born in the US?” Ortiz chimes in. Just as Prentiss walks into the room.
“I don’t know who’s talking.” Penelope kind of sings.
“I’m sorry. My name is Olivia Ortiz. It’s my first day here.”
“This is Penelope Garcia, our technical analyst.” Reid introduces and Olivia nods.
“Are you excited?” Penelope says, and Reid can almost imagine her smile.
“Yes.” Olivia smiles as well.
“Welcome.” The analyst says, the sound of computer keys being pushed covers the line for a couple of moments before she continues. “None of the partners were born in the US. Three of them acquired legal status because of their spouses. One of them was.”
Olivia leans back.
“What’s on your mind?” Prentiss asks, sitting next to her friend.
“I think the person who’s killing them is mad at them for marrying an immigrant.” Ortiz says just as Morgan and Prentiss step into the jet.
“Like some kind of weird white supremacist.” Morgan nods and Olivia does as well.
“And all the couples have kids.” Prentiss cuts.
“The unsub believes the victims are ruining their genetics by having children with Hispanic people.” Reid says. “That’s great, Ortiz.” She smiles and notes something.
Prentiss looks up at him with a smirk and mouths. “Brilliant.”
Hotch and JJ arrive together, Rossi joins them just before the twenty minutes timeout and when the jet takes off, the group starts discussing the case once again. Hotch listens to the theories, his face unmoved, almost unimpressed by what they’re saying.
“That’s good. Who came out with this?”
“Ortiz did.” Morgan points, we all look at the brunette. She’s got the tiniest smile as Hotch nods at her.
“Good work. I’ll need Prentiss, Rossi and Morgan covering the crime scenes. JJ I need you to talk to the families, Reid and Ortiz victimology.” He orders.
Reid’s stomach dips at the idea of working with her. He cannot pinpoint why the idea of working next to her made him have that reaction. So far he liked the girl, he could tell the rest of the group did as well, even Hotch, although he didn’t show it.
The rest of the fly was oddly quiet. Everyone took the time to sleep, perfectly knowing that for the next couple of days, they would be lacking a severe amount of sleep. Prentiss must’ve told Olivia that, because she sleeps peacefully in front of him. He makes a mental note to drink a couple of cups of coffee as soon as they land.
She wakes up at the middle of the flight. Reid notices her move before she opens her eyes and looks around. Prentiss’ head is leaning on her shoulder, she frowns for a moment before looking out the window.
“Where are we?” She asks with a bit of a raspy voice.
Reid looks out the window. “Somewhere over Texas. Andrews or Odessa.” He responds, and she nods with an ‘Ah’. “We’re probably an hour away from arriving to Arizona.” She covers her mouth as she yawns.
“Okay.” She nods. “What are you reading?” She asks, looking at the book on his hands. He does as well, almost as if didn’t know what he’s reading.
“Crime and punishment.” He responds, and she nods again. Emily snores a little next to her head, she frowns, looking at her. “Can I ask how do you know her?”
“She has been some sort of mentor to me for a couple of years now.” She looks at the brunette. “She taught me how to profile and told me to apply to the BAU and I guess she put a word on me because now I’m here.”
His eyes meet hers, the bright blue color becomes almost intoxicating to him. Not that he knows a lot about being intoxicated, or drunk. Usually people had those experiences in college, but Spencer Reid was barely thirteen when he enrolled in college and now, at thirty years old, he hadn’t shown much interest. He begins to wonder if Olivia did have those experiences.
Emily snores again, and Olivia shakes her head. “Okay, I love you, but not that much.” She says as she gently places her head against the seat. “But yeah, I’m really grateful for her.”
She doesn’t say any further, so he doesn’t push her. They fall into some sort of comfortable silence. He returns his stare to his book, although he can’t read at all in her presence; she falls asleep again.
The moments of quietness when everyone slept dissolved the moment they landed on Tucson, Reid woke Prentiss up, Prentiss woke Ortiz. News of another discovered corpse immediately struck the group upon their arrival.
Another Caucasian man, married to a Peruvian woman for the last five years, they had one kid and one on the way. The police tell us that the woman doesn’t speak any English and they haven’t been able to communicate with her. Reid is relieved when Hotch instructs Olivia and JJ to go together to speak to her.
He feels like this is the first moment in the day that he thinks normally. He starts building the profile as smoothly as only he knows how to do it. A couple of hours later, immersed in his work, he doesn’t listen when JJ and Ortiz enter the room, much less when the latter stands beside him.
“He’s definitely a white man.” She corrects, pointing at the board where it says ‘hispanic or caucasian’.
“Jesus Christ!” Reid jumps, completely startled looking at her. Both JJ and Ortiz giggle.
“Sorry.” Her smile is lovely. He thinks. “That’s someone who had to learn Spanish by force of condition. According to Detective Mouren this has only become an illegal immigration passing point in the last couple of years as others got covered by border police.”
“So the unsub had to learn Spanish in order to be competent in a town with crescent immigrant influence.” Reid nods.
“Business owner?” JJ asks.
“Or someone who works in any kind of client services.” Ortiz leans into a desk.
“Not necessarily. What kind of establishments would a passing immigrant frequent?” He asks, already consumed by the idea.
“You ask me that because I’m Mexican?” Ortiz blinks, JJ snorts a laugh behind them.
“No… I’m just…” He nervously starts, the heat creeping up his neck, he takes a glare at his best friend but the blonde is just silently laughing, Ortiz is smiling. “Oh, a joke. It was funny.” He smiles, he clears his throat. “I was thinking groceries stores, supply stores, anywhere where they can change or receive money. Anyone who works at hospitality.”
“That shortens the suspect list.” JJ comments, but Reid and Ortiz are sharing a smile. “But why would he write in Spanish?”
“To mislead the investigation.” Spencer says, writing something rapidly. “If the police believes he’s an immigrant mass murdering people they will press the border control.”
“He hates immigrants so much he’s pretending to be one. He must see it as some kind of weird sacrifice. He not only hates them, he hates to have to serve them, he hates that he has to speak our language to keep his job.” She looks at him. “Pretty pathetic dude.”
Spencer Reid still can’t pinpoint what’s wrong with him, so he just does what he knows best. Pretend to act normal. Even when JJ and Hotch deliver the profile and Ortiz is sitting across from him, next to Morgan and Prentiss, paying attention to what they’re saying as if it was the holy word.
White man, thirty to fifty-year-old, he easily gets low, doesn’t catch the attention. High school educated. Probably intelligent, but an underachiever. Local, enough to know the couples, most likely met them at some point or even constantly.
“Great job on the profile.” Hotch congratulates him. I look across the room at Ortiz, who’s talking to Rossi and some detective who says something that makes her smile and shake her head. Rossi then says something and she nods. He wishes he could hear what they’re talking about.
“Ortiz helped me. She’s got great eye.” He says, looking at the brunette. Hotch looks at her for a moment.
“What do you think?” His boss asks.
“I think Emily did a great job teaching her.” Reid responds, biting down the words ‘dreamy’ and ‘beautiful’ that pestered his mind for a moment.
“Back in VICAP, she solved the Montealto Park Rapist case by just a photo of a footprint. I’m sure Prentiss must be proud of her.”
The Montealto Park Rapist was everywhere two years ago, Jordan Bibble, a forty-three-year-old man who serially raped seven girls he took from kid’s parks all through the country. The connection between the cases wasn’t discovered until VICAP began their investigation. Reid asked himself how he didn’t recognize Ortiz’ name before. She matched the boot in the footprint photo, worked out the size, and then found out that only one store sold that specific model. Through credit card information, they could easily get the suspect from there.
“Why wasn’t she brought to the BAU before?” Reid asks, not able to remember if her name had even been mentioned before.
“She never applied.” Hotch responds.
Across the room, the rest of the group burst into a laugh that has Hotch and Reid turning over to see them, as soon as their boss shot them a glance, they all moved, pretending to do something else. Hotch sighed.
The night crept in and there didn’t seem to be any leads into the case, Spencer drank his third cup of coffee of the day. He wasn’t expecting to get any sleep that night anyways. Not that he believed the unsub would strike again for a couple of days. The press had already notified that the FBI was covering the case, the unsub must know that.
“Hey.” JJ approaches him.
“Hi.” He responds.
“How are you doing? I know you don’t like change.” She starts. “You have been nervous all day.”
“I’ll get used to it.” He says, looking through the glass at the group.
“She’s nice, I think Morgan really likes her.” She crosses her arms. Reid frowns a little.
“Like her? Do you think he has a crush on her?” He doesn’t like whatever feeling he’s having right now.
“No, I mean he likes her. They’re getting along. Do you think he has a crush on her?” JJ looks at him, and a huge smile invades her face. “Oh.”
“What?” He frowns, turning to look at her.
“You think she’s pretty.” She smiles knowingly.
“She’s conventionally attractive, her features are what society has built as pretty. Only eight percent of the population has blue eyes. It is in fact one of the most looked for but least achieved in a partner features.” He starts blurting out information.
“Yes, but you are into her. Does this mean you forgot about Lila?” JJ asks, an accusatory smile planted on her face.
“Hi.” Someone walks into the room. Taunting blue eyes and friendly smile meet his stare. “Who’s Lila? Oh, no, that’s nosy, don’t mind me, keep talking.” She says, JJ raises her eyebrows. Spencer feels the heat creep up his neck towards his cheeks.
“I… just made… I just made coffee.” He stumbles over his words, making JJ contain a smile. “Do you want a cup?”
She looks at him. “Thank you, but I don’t drink coffee. I’m going to fill up my water bottle.”
“You don’t drink coffee?” JJ asks, Spencer is thankful that her focus is going away from her for at least one second.
“I’m already very energetic without it, I figured that if I start consuming it, I would become a menace to society.” She responds and takes a sip of her water bottle.
“To be fair, with the amount of energy you have right now after seven hours here. I think you’re already a menace to society.” Reid’s words escape his mouth before he can even think about it. Thankfully, Ortiz laughs, and his heart flutters.
“You’re the doctor.” She says before approaching JJ. “Your necklace is a little twisted. The clasp is on the front, one second.” She slowly moves JJ’s necklace so the pendant is on the front. “Cute!” She smiles.
“Thank you.” JJ says with a smile, covering her pendant with her fingers, and Ortiz scrunches her nose for a moment as a response before leaving the room.
Both JJ and Spencer spend a long moment in silence, watching her return to the chatting group. The scene is almost too normal for someone to know they’re waiting for any lead in a murder. Garcia must be working like crazy, trying to match the profile to anyone in the town.
“You like her!” JJ mouths. “I never thought I’d live to see the moment where Spencer Reid liked a girl.”
“I don’t like her. I just think she’s… charming.” He admits.
“She’s charming.” JJ says matter-of-factly, still holding the pensant. “She has charmed everyone on the team in less than a day, Derek is already calling her pretty girl, even Hotch is amused. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen Hotch smile only twice since I met him, and he just laughs at something she said. She even fixed my necklace, and you didn’t.”
“I didn’t notice.” His response is almost obvious.
“But she did. She’s observant and attentive.”
“How does she do it?” He looks at her through the window.
“Some people are just naturally social. Will is one of them. People just love him everywhere we go.” She leans against the table. “I think it is because he’s got the Southern charm going on for him.”
Reid frowns when another police officer enters, a grim expression on his face. The whole BAU gathers around to heard the news that the unsub just killed a woman. The paroling police found the body, still warm.
“He’s on a spree.” Rossi says.
“Victim identified as Rosmery Garcia.” Prentiss reads just as Morgan takes his phone, dials something.
“Hey baby-girl. What can you get for us in Rosmery Garcia?” He asks, Ortiz looks at Prentiss and asks ‘Baby-girl?’. Prentiss just smiles and dismisses it.
“No legal documentation in the US, but luckily, yours truly has a little access to international records… Don’t ask how.” She comments. Ortiz bites her lip, clearly wanting to ask. Spencer finds himself looking at the action for a long moment. “Rosmery Garcia, born in Nicaragua, thirty-six years old, has two kids in her country that apparently she didn’t bring.”
“Do we know it’s the same unsub?” Rossi asks. “The victimology changed.”
“Same MO though.” Prentiss says.
“Reid, Rossi, go to the scene of crime. JJ, Ortiz, communicate with her family, find out when she came to the country. Prentiss, Morgan, ask for security tapes around the crime scene.” He orders, it’s almost mechanical, like a well-oiled machine. They all move to obey the orders.
“I’ve never told a family that someone died.” Is the last thing Reid hears before heading out of the station.
It was indeed the same unsub, a post-it with the same calligraphy taken as evidence. The victimology just changed. Nothing else on the scene except dragging marks proving the unsub moved the body from the sidewalk to an alley. He clearly cares if they find the bodies but not enough to hide them well.
“He left another note.” Rossi tells Hotch when they get back to the station.
“What does it say?” Their boss asks, reaching across to the bag of evidence to look at the yellow paper. ‘Dirty beaner’ it read. “He knows about the profile. He’s mad that we didn’t fall into the misled.”
“Just finished speaking with the families.” JJ and Ortiz come in. “They’re devastated but cooperated. Rosmery left Guatemala two months ago, last week she called from someone’s phone to tell them she had hired a coyote.”
“She was talking to her son when the unsub striked.” Ortiz presses her lips together.
Hotch’s phone rings. It’s Garcia who has recently received the camera recordings of the establishment across the street. The victim walked with a grocery bag on one hand and her phone glued to her ear. The unsub stepped outside the same alley he hid her later and followed her for a moment before covering her neck with a wire and strangling her.
It’s almost instinct for Reid to look at Ortiz, but she’s only looking at the scene with her brows knitted together, just like everyone else. “She’s a victim of convenience.” Reid comments.
“He killed her because she was convenient. Wrong place, wrong time, speaking the wrong language.” Derek tilts his head. We see the unsub place the note on the victim’s chest. “What did he write there?”
“Dirty beaner.” Reid repeated without thinking twice.
“What did you call me?” Ortiz cuts in, Reid’s eyes go wide for a moment and he stutters to apologize and explain, but her smile and the rest of the group containing one makes him stop. “I’m messing with you.”
Reid is glad it got a laugh from the group in such a stressful moment. Even Garcia smiled as well. He takes a deep breath, trying to get the heat to go down his cheeks.
“If he’s hunting out of convenience, seeking people speaking Spanish we can get him to hunt.” Rossi points, everyone turns to look at him, but he looks at Ortiz. “We happen to have someone who fits his current victimology.”
“What? Use her as bait?” JJ asks. “We only do that when we know who the unsub is. Doing it could get her killed.”
“Besides, how do we know he’s going to try again?” Prentiss interferes.
“If he’s on a spree, he most likely will do it again. You see, spree killers are impulsive, emotionally driven. Once they start, it’s like pulling the pin on a grenade- not a stop, there is not going back. He’s not going to hide, not now. Perceived attraction validates offenders like him, they often escalate the frequency between attacks once.” He blurts out, his Adam’s apple bobs up and down before he can even process what he just said. JJ looks at him with reproach.
Ortiz looks at him with her brows knitted. “I have virtually no idea what you just said but it sounds right.”
Hotch is not paying attention to what the group discusses. He’s looking steadily at Ortiz, who looks back at him. “What do you think?”
“If what Wonderboy said is true, the clock is ticking before he finds someone else to strangle.” She starts. “If the police stop patrolling a certain area, he might be attracted to chase there.”
“You’re not going to be bait for a serial strangler.” Prentiss says, motherlike.
“You were bait for a terrorist when I met you.” She responds and winces. “I can do this; you know I can.”
“Ortiz.” Hotch demands.
“I’ll do it.” She decides.
“No, you won’t.” Prentiss intervenes.
“Emily, he’ll find a way to kill again. He might start on a home invasion spree.” Morgan says, coolheaded as usual.
“I’m not putting her life in line for a guess.” Prentiss says, obviously.
“It’s not a guess. It’s a pattern.” Reid interrupts again. “He’s devolving, getting faster but sloppier. The longer we wait, the less control he has… and the more bodies we’ll find.” His heart is beating fast as he looks at Olivia. “And the more likely it is that the next time, we’re too late.”
“I’m not asking you for permission, Emily. I’ll do it. It’s decided.” Reid can see the hurt in both’s eyes when she says this. If Emily Prentiss taught her how to do everything, Ortiz naturally sees her as an authority. “You taught me to trust my instincts. I’m doing it.”
Hotch plans everything with the PD, what street will be unparoled- at the other side of town; how the team will be placed across every major point, how Ortiz will move and what will she do.
“What will I do?” Prentiss asks.
“You’ll stay here with JJ.” Our boss responds, Prentiss shakes her head. “You can’t go, you’re too protective of Ortiz. It can backfire.”
Ortiz is given the clothes Hotch had asked for; JJ subtly smiles at her as she hands them over, the brunette does as well. She gets her ear gear placed and, before the plan stats Prentiss and Ortiz hug, tightly, Prentiss says something in Ortiz’ ear and the latter laughs.
The plan starts the action. Ortiz walks everywhere, Reid has no idea what she’s saying but her voice is loud, her laugh resonates everywhere, she comes in and out of stores and talks to everyone pretending not to speak English.
“Ortiz, there’s a man in the alley you’re about to enter.” Hotch informs, Reid cannot see him from his point of view.
She doesn’t respond and for a second, Reid fears that the headgear isn’t working and she’s walking to her death. Instead, she stops in front of the alley and looks at where the man must be. “What is she doing?” Reid asks Derek.
“I don’t know.” He responds, Reid is sure he’s about to puke the coffee he drank earlier when she smiles at the man and keeps walking. The man starts following her, she’s still talking on the phone, unaware of where the man is. Just as he lifts a wire, Olivia turns around.
It happens all too fast, she pulls the wire away of his hands and throws it away, the man resorts to cover her neck with his hands. Reid’s gun tremble in his hands as he tried to get a clean shot. He can’t.
“I’m going to kill you, fucking bitch.” The man says. Reid asks himself why doesn’t anyone do something. Hotch walks closer to him, pointing his gun to the man. “If you friend does something I’ll break your neck.”
Spencer and Morgan approach them as well, gun pointed to the man even though firing at him would end up with Ortiz dead. “You can go harder than that, it turns me on.” She says.
“Jesus Christ.” Morgan shakes his head. “What does she think she’s doing?”
“Making him uncomfortable.” Reid says. And it must’ve worked because she’s able to break his posture by hitting his forearm with her elbow. The movement throws her in the floor, he jumps over her to straddle her, choking her against the floor. “Do you have a shot?”
Morgan shakes his head. “She’s not making it.” He says.
But she pushes her hips forward, breaking his balance, he dives forward, breaking the contact with her neck. She pushes one leg around his torso and flips him, taking his arm backwards and pressing the other one with her foot.
“I see why you strangle from behind. You’re weak.” She laughs, he tries to move, so she presses his arm even more backwards, the man screams in pain. “Stop whining, I’m not even breaking it.”
“Did you know she could do that?” Morgan asks Hotch, our boss looks at the scene and shakes his head.
Ortiz looks at the police and her teammates and sighs. “Was it really that difficult to get a shot?” She asks, one of the officers take the arm she’s been menacing with breaking and cuffs it to the one she held with her feet.
“To be fair, you moved a lot.” Rossi defends, and she smiles a bit.
“I’m not a great shot. You were in greater danger with me pointing at any of you.” Reid says and smiles a bit.
“Check her neck.” Hotch instructs someone. Reid looks around for the ambulance… but there is not one. “Reid.”
“Oh, sure.” He says, approaching her. “Ortiz, I hope you don’t mind, I’m going to touch…” He starts. She takes a deep breath.
“I thought you weren’t that kind of doctor.” She jokes, and it’s just what he needed to get his nerves down. The smell of coconut and vanilla invades him. Perfume, her perfume. “That hurts.”
“Sorry.” He nervously says. His fingers move to the other side of her neck. “You shouldn’t joke after almost getting choked unconscious.”
“I wasn’t going to die, Reid.” She smiles, her voice coming out raspier than before.
“I calculated. You had approximately thirty seconds before you lost consciousness. Even less if he shifted pressure. I counted.”
He finishes checking her neck, but his fingers stay a moment longer than necessary over her pulse, almost as if he needed to reassure himself her heart was beating. She swallows, and he can tell it’s hurting. The adrenaline is going down.
“You scared me.” He says softly.
“Don’t tell anyone, but I was scared.” She says equally softly, dim smile on her face. “Thank you, Doctor.”
“You can call me Spencer.” He says.
“You can call me Olivia, or Liv.”
The ambulance sirens resonate over their conversation, and he watches closely as the paramedics check her the same way he just did. Hell, she even jokes with the paramedics. They tell her she will feel sore and that it will certainly bruise. He had already told her that and she smiles a bit looking at him while they say it.
“How are you doing, pretty girl?” Morgan approaches her. She has a jacket covering her shoulders but still smiles.
“I’m fine. The guy didn’t know how to choke with his hands.” She smiles. Rossi gives his hand to help her stand up from the ambulance. Spencer doesn’t think she needs it but she still takes it.
“Great job.” Hotch congratulates.
“Thank you, I feel like some hardcore version of Shaggy Rogers.” She nods and Hotch smirks.
She’s quiet until they reach the police station. Emily is pacing around it and her stare lights up when she sees us come in. Prentiss notices the reddening marks on Olivia’s neck. “That was stupid.” She shakes her head.
“But it worked.” Olivia smiles and hugs her. “I love you. You know that?” She says, and Prentiss nods. “Good.”
“Hey.” JJ approaches Reid and Morgan. “What happened?”
“I’m scared of her. That happened.” Morgan shakes his head. Olivia yawns across from the three of them.
“When are we taking the jet back to Quantico?” She asks Hotch.
After what seemed like an eternity, they take the jet back home. Hotch insisted she’d get the big couch and sleep. Half an hour in, with Rossi snoring loudly at the other side of the jet she’s just looking at the sky, but as he sits across from her, finishing his book. She takes a photo of the sunrise. He has been watching her expression shift, the way her shoulders drop, and the adrenaline had finally drained from her body. Her breaths are not even, and he suspects it must hurt. She presses her hand against her neck and winces. The bruising has started to bloom in angry purples and ugly greens and yellows, and Spencer wishes he could do something… literally anything.
“That’s… that’s the cortisol crash.” He murmurs, trying not to wake up the rest of the team. Her stare goes to him. “The adrenaline masks the pain receptors until…”
“Until there is no adrenaline left.” She finishes. Her voice is barely above a whisper, and he’s sure she’s not trying to keep it down. She swallows again and laughs a bit. “God, it’s like swallowing shattered glass.”
Spencer crouches in front of her, careful not to touch unless she lets him. She does. “You might have bruised cartilage. Maybe even a vocal cord strain. We should really get you to a hospital.”
“Why? I have a doctor next to me.” She jokes, her smile as beautiful as before despite what happened a mere hour ago.
Still, when she lifts her eyes to his, the glint of bravado is gone. All he sees is a tired, sore human.
“The joke is going to turn unfunny, eventually.” He says, and her eyes now shine with a bit of malice.
“Until then.” She responds.
“Welcome to the team.” Spencer says, almost ironically. She laughs silently.
“Thank you, I feel appreciated.”
Chapter 2
Summary:
Where the BAU investigates a series or murders in downtown New York.
Notes:
Hii!
I chose to believe the song that represents Reid and Liv this chapter is sparks fly.
Word count: 5557 words.
Chapter Text
Olivia’s bruises lasted two weeks. She figured that if the bruising happened at the job. She didn’t have to cover them for it. So she didn’t. She walks into the office every day with people looking at her for longer than they should, but she doesn’t really care.
“Good morning.” She salutes as she lets her go-bag onto her desk.
“What are you doing for Halloween, pretty girl?” Derek asks, leaning back in his chair.
“I don’t know. I’ll probably dress as a playboy bunny and end up on someone’s bed.” She jokes. “My second option was buying a goat and sacrificing it.”
Emily chokes on her coffee. “Jesus, Liv.”
“Just an option.” Olivia bites back a smile.
Spencer looks up from his file and blinks. A slight change in his expression that makes her wonder if it actually happened. A moment of tension in his jaw, a readjustment on his shoulders. Almost nothing. Probably nothing.
“Goat sacrifices are rarely literal.” He said after a moment, his casual voice proving Liv that it was indeed nothing. “Most modern pagan rituals use symbolic representations instead.”
“So, some of them use goats.” Olivia concludes with a raised eyebrow and the impossibility of fighting back a smile.
“They have been a common symbol in sacrificial rites across numerous ancient civilizations- but currently, in most states, including Virginia, that would be considered animal cruelty and result in felony charges.” He continues. “But the odds of finding an actual goat for sale in suburban Virginia are surprisingly low. Especially this close to the holiday.”
Olivia tilts her head. “Have you looked into this?”
“No. But the amount of people who get injured trying to handle livestock is higher than you think. Goats are also surprisingly territorial animals.” He says quickly.
“So that’s a no on the goat?” Liv cocks her lip, looking at JJ, who just walked into the room and seems surprisingly amused at whatever conversation they’re having.
“And the bunny costume?” Derek asks, stirring the pot. He and Liv share a smile. A conjoined effort to bother Spencer just started.
“Playboy bunny.” Prentiss corrects.
Spencer’s mouth opens and closes for a moment. He blinks several times. “Well, uh…. Statistically, Halloween sees a spike in alcohol-related incidents like intoxications and revealing costumes- specially in colder climates like Virginia are prone to temperature exposure or… poor visibility.”
“Maybe I’ll take my chances. I’ll sacrifice a goat wearing a bunny costume.” Liv smiles.
“Playboy bunny.” Now it’s JJ who corrects.
“There is also the risk of tripping hazards.” He adds. JJ raises an eyebrow.
“You don’t trust me to walk straight in stripper heels?” Olivia asks.
“I didn’t say that.” He replies too quickly. “Although you could sprain an ankle… or break it. That would leave you out of work for at least three weeks. Plus, the physical recuperation of the mobility.”
Liv thinks it’s cute that he’s worried about her. It’s not that she was going to do any of those things. She had found out that Derek and she shared a particular dry humor. She just didn’t expect that Spencer would actually believe it, and she surely didn’t expect the rest of the team to jump in.
“They’re messing with you, Spence.” JJ finally clarifies.
“So no bunny costume?” Spencer looks up at Olivia.
“Playboy bunny.” Olivia corrects in perfect unison with JJ, Derek and Prentiss. The four of them burst into a short laugh. “I think you should be more concerned about the goat, Doctor.”
Morgan chuckles. The moment passes, but Olivia’s smile doesn’t fade. She watches Spencer glare back down at his file, cheeks tinted in a light pink shade.
“Well, I hate to bring down the humor, but we’ve got a case.” JJ stands from Prentiss’ desk, where she had been listening to the whole exchange.
“There goes the goat sacrifice.” Derek jokes, earning a laugh from the three of them. They walk to the conference room when he asks again. “So what are you actually doing?”
“Probably watch a couple of horror movies.” She responds. “In someone’s bed.”
Derek chuckles, and Prentiss smiles. Hotch, Rossi and Penelope are already in the conference room. Olivia sits across from them, next to Prentiss and Reid. They all check the file for a moment. Five murders in New York, all the victims are women, different ethnicities and ages, different ways of murdering them, but all positioned in the same position.
“Wait.” Olivia says, looking at the file. “I know this.”
“How?” JJ asks, probably thinking that maybe the case leaked somehow.
“And Then There Were None.” She says, looking at the group. “The book by Agatha Christie. Ten little soldiers went out to dine; one choked his little self and then there were nine.” She points at the photo on the screen. “Belinda Higson was found with cyanide and alcohol in her body just like Martson in the book.”
“That’s one, what about the other four?” Rossi asks.
“Nine little soldier boys sat up very late; one overslept himself and then there were eight.” She continues reciting. “Kenia Oliver overdosed on a sedative. Forty pills. In the book Mrs. Rogers is found dead in the bed.”
She continues. Everything she says matches the case.
“The question is why?” Rossi asks.
“In the book Justice Wargrave kills them because of things they’ve done that went unpunished. It’s his form of justice. That is probably what the unsub feels.”
“So all these women did something to upset him. And he killed them in return.” Hotch comments.
“If the unsub is replicating that structure, it suggests meticulous planning- this isn’t impulsive.” Reid says. He would never thought about this, but it makes the most sense. “That’s why the victimology is all over the place.”
“So we need to find out if these women actually did something.” JJ nods.
“And if you hadn’t made the connection to Christie, we might’ve lost the pattern completely.” Reid says to Olivia, she smiles.
“Jealous, Doctor?” She tilts her head.
“Who’s next on the book?” Hotch cuts in before Reid’s brain can even process what she said.
“Four little soldier boys going out to the sea. A red herring swallowed one, and then there were three.” Olivia repeats slowly, as if pronouncing this was complicated for her. Her brain feels fried, and she’s in serious need of speaking Spanish just a bit. “In the book Dr. Amstrong gets drowned.”
“The clock is ticking. Wheels up in twenty.”
Olivia watches them all file out of the conference room. The footsteps echoing in her head louder than the rhyme that had just rolled off her tongue. The words lingered in her mind over and over. Red herring was something surprisingly difficult to say for her, she kept repeating that part of the rhyme until she got it right.
It was weird how neatly the pieces were falling into place. She didn’t like it.
Her eyes drifted to the photo board one last time, lips pressing into a line as she matched each victim to their respective rhyme. She doesn’t like it one bit.
“Olivia!” JJ’s voice pulls her back to the present. She looks up to see the blonde holding out a go-bag. Her go-bag that was over her desk.
“Thanks.” Olivia says, accepting it with a tired smile.
“You okay?” JJ asks.
“Yeah, just…” Olivia sighs and adjusts the strap of bag on her shoulder. “I’ve been Englishing for a while now. I need to talk to my mom and have her yell at me in Spanish. Something to reset me.” She responds, the blonde smiles a bit and walks with her towards the cubicles.
Olivia does as she says, paying her mom a call and feeling the relief of speaking Spanish, even if it’s for ten minutes. She feels her brain go back to normal, start functioning properly again. She doesn’t have a problem speaking English. For the longest time, it was the only language she thought in, but sometimes it became too much.
Olivia hangs up with her mom feeling like a new woman. She turns to find Reid lingering near her desk, holding two files. He’s clearly been waiting for her but pretending to study the case notes as he hadn’t noticed her.
“Doctor Reid, are you stalking me?” She smiles, leaning against her desk to put her phone back in her bag.
“No. I was just…” He starts, fumbling the files. “Statistically, bilingual individuals revert to their first language under stress. It’s a well-documented cognitive reset. I wasn’t…”
“My dad is a neurobiologis., I know that when I’m overwhelmed, I speak Spanish.” She tilts her head. Reid stands up and walks with her towards the elevator. “I just didn’t know you were paying attention.
The doors slide shut with a soft ding. It’s just the two inside, the hum of fluorescent lights above them and the weight of the case pressing the silence.
Reid shifts his bag to his other shoulder. “You recited that nursery rhyme perfectly.” He starts suddenly, turning slightly toward her. She looks back at him. “Did you memorize the whole book?”
“No.” She smiles. “I don’t have that good of a memory. I just memorized the rhyme. I like doing that.” She leans into the elevator door.
“That’s impressive.”
“It was also the first book I ever finished in English. I was so proud I could do it. I had been living in the US for about a year, but I never dared to read something that wasn’t in Spanish before. “It wasn’t perfect at all. I really thought a red herring was an actual fish. An enormous fish that just ate someone.”
Spencer smiles, looking at her- a genuine, crooked soft smile that hits her like a warm current. “It is a fish.”
Oliva blinks. “No, it’s not. It’s like a misdirection”
“It is both.” He grins, and Olivia is sure that it’s the first time she’s seen him smile. He’s clearly enjoying this, but she doesn’t mind having a smile at her expense. “It is, when a herring has been heavily salted and smoked, it turns into a reddish color.”
She blinks again, and a laugh bubbles out of him. She can’t help but stare back. “You’re such a nerd.” She shakes her head.
“You like that about me.” His grin widens just in time for the elevator to ding and the metal doors to open.
She thinks it’s for the best. She doesn’t know what she would’ve responded. They walk comfortably towards the jet. The rest of the team is already there. Olivia notices a small smile on JJ’s lips when she sees them walk in together, and Olivia wonders what is it about.
“Please talk to me in Spanish.” Olivia begs as she sits next to Prentiss. Her friend doesn’t hesitate, and the rest of the group doesn’t blink an eye at it. JJ had told them before how she felt and how she needed a bit of a moment.
Just before landing, Hotch gives them the directions, JJ will talk to the family members, Olivia and Prentiss will go talk to an NYU professor about the book, Reid will stay at the police station building the geographical profile, Hotch and Rossi will review the similarities and Morgan will go to the crime scenes.
Professor Austin Lilard received them. a man surprisingly young to be a professor. He didn’t look older than forty, with a specialization in twentieth-century literature, he proved helpful in analyzing the literature in the crime.
“There’s a poetic justice element. The rhyme isn’t just a motif- it becomes the executioner. Death is inevitable, but it also is methodical.”
Olivia thinks about it. “Like someone wants them to suffer before the end. The unsub isn’t looking for closure. He’s delivering a verdict.” She tells Prentiss.
“If your killer is modeling their methods after the book, the lei motif is likely tied to retribution. Or guilt.”
“Maybe both.” Olivia tilts her head.
Prentiss rises, leaving her coffee mug near the coffeemaker. Olivia rises as well. “Thank you, Professor. We can work with this.”
“Hope it helped.” He responds, leading the two of them to the door. “And just for the record, if you need additional analysis for the novel. I give a seminar every Thursday at six pm. I would love to have you enrolled.” He tells Olivia, Prentiss’ eyebrows raise.
“It sounds like you’re trying to lure one of our agents into a PhD program.” Prentiss crosses her arms against her chest.
“Reid might get jealous if I get one.” Ortiz jokes, and her friend smiles.
“You might want to be careful. I heard that college teachers who flirt with Federal Agents have a tendency to… disappear.” Prentiss tells the teacher before they walk away.
The two of them walk back into the police department. JJ is still talking to a weeping woman in a room. She gives them a small pressed lips smile as they walk by. Reid is by a map, with places marked.
“Hey.” Prentiss approaches him, he turns to see her, his eyes placing first on her and then Olivia for a long moment. “How’s it going?” She asks.
“Good. I’ve been mapping locations where the bodies were found in relationship to their residences, places of employment, and the delivery sites of the nursery rhymes.” He explains, tapping on one of the red pins. “The unsub is using the city’s subway system for mobility, the victims are most likely using it as well.”
“Do you have a radius?” Olivia asks, approaching the map. Reid looks at her for a long moment as she does.
“Umh…” He looks at the map. “I would say somewhere between Uptown, Midtown and Brooklyn Heights.” He points to a triangle on the map.
“So he lives somewhere in the triangle.” Prentiss finishes.
“Most likely yes.” He responds and looks at them, his brows knit for a moment and then he smiles. “But the time between the abductions and the killings is less than twenty-four hours.”
“Which means he’s going to drown someone soon.” Olivia responds. “God, I really wish it is a red herring.” She shakes her head, and Reid smiles.
“A fish?” He asks, and Olivia rolls her eyes.
“You are despicable, Doctor Reid.” She shakes her head.
“How did it go with the professor?” He asks, Prentiss smiles beside her.
“Oh, it went amazingly. The man was so attentive. Especially towards Liv.” She responds with a knowing tone.
“He was just chatty.” Olivia replies.
“To you. He practically ignored me.”
“Some people are just more persuasive interviewers.” Spencer returns his sight to the map.
“Are you saying I flirted with the professor?” Olivia blinks.
“I didn’t say that.” He quickly adds. “I’m just saying some people are easier to communicate with.” He finishes. Olivia and Prentiss look at each other for a moment, and the latter shrugs.
“Ortiz.” Hotch calls. She looks at the boss. She squeezes Prentiss arm as she walks towards him. “What was the name of the professor you and Prentiss talked to?”
“Austin Lilard.” She responds, Derek winces.
“One of the victim’s parents brought a box of things. There are several letters written to Austin Lilard.” JJ crosses her arms. “What are the odds?”
“Do you think he could be our unsub? He was rather helpful.” Olivia frowns a little.
“Call Garcia, have her dig everything about him.” He says, just as Prentiss and Reid join the conversation.
“Damn, pretty girl, you got a serial killer’s attention.” Derek grins and Olivia shakes her head.
“It’s not him. Why would he speak to the FBI agents who are trying to get him detain? He seemed smarter than that.” Olivia replies.
“Wait, our unsub is Professor Lilard?” Prentiss asks.
“No.” Olivia responds just as Derek says, “yes.”
“You’re defending him a lot.” JJ points with raised brows.
“Because it doesn’t make any sense for him to be the unsub!”
“It does.” Reid starts. “He knows the novel better than the average person. He understands everything about it, including the motive behind every single murder in the book. He teaches criminal literature, which makes crime his literal field of study. He’s smart, which explains the lack of evidence in the bodies and crime scene. He fits everything.”
“Bring him for interrogation.” Hotch tells Derek, and he nods.
In a matter of an hour, he’s entering the police department accompanied by Derek and two officials. As calm and composed as he was in his office talking to them. He even thanks the officials when they let him inside the interrogation room. Hotch orders both Reid and Olivia to carry on with the interrogation.
Lilard’s stare follows Olivia as they both enter, holding their respective files. Spencer sits across from him, but she doesn’t. She stays standing, her back pressing against the wall in a composed posture. She can feel the air in the room shift when the professor smirks at her. Reid is far from a smile. Olivia finds his quiet stillness fascinating.
“Miss Ortiz, back so soon. I feel flattered.” He raises his brows. “Although if you wanted to keep discussing the book, we could’ve done it in a more…” His stare moves a second towards Reid and then back at her. “private setting.”
A beat passes before Spencer says. “Agent Ortiz.” He corrects in a less than cool tone. Olivia looks at him- She hadn’t even realized he called her miss.
But Lilard’s smirk grows. “Agent Ortiz, then, my mistake.” He leans back in the chair, eyes fixated on her. “I guess I have a taste for intimidating women… or women with a badge and firearm.”
Reid cuts in. “You’re deflecting. We don’t care about your questionable preferences. We’re covering a series of murders.”
She remains unmoved, not an expression on her face, even after Spencer qualifies her as a ‘questionable preference’, however, his attention doesn’t drift away from her. It’s for the best, she thinks. He’ll be most likely to speak if she asks him. Reid is just here to… Play the bad cop? She can’t really understand why would Hotch demand him there, but she’s as obedient as they come.
“You’re right. But I’m supposed to be honest here, aren’t I?” He leans forward. “And being honest. I think Agent Ortiz is a little distracting.”
“One would have thought that a university teacher would be better at focusing over his impulses. I guess that’s why you have an open sexual harassment case. Are your students too… distracting?” Leaning forward, Reid spoke more slowly and gravely. Olivia hates to admit that ‘sexy’ is the first adjective that crossed her mind.
“You know. I find your hostility very telling. Agent…” The professor points.
“Doctor Reid.” He corrects.
“Doctor Reid.” The professor corrects. “I must comment that some people find intelligence more attractive than arrogance. You strike me to be the kind of that prefers to be the smartest in the room. Might be actually annoying when someone else in the room not only has all the traits you lack but actually listens to what I say.” He looks back at Olivia.
Reid leans forward, his voice deliberate. “I’ve read your work. Your theories are outdated, your research lacks proper cross-validation, and you cherry-pick your citations to support your conclusions. Trust me, I know I’m not the smartest in the room, but you’re not either. And frankly, the only time I have ever lamented having an eidetic memory was while I read the garbage that you call research.”
Olivia freezes. Her professional mask slips just enough to reveal pressed lips and wide eyes. She has only known Reid for two weeks, not nearly enough to create actual expectations, but she never thought she’d seen this side of the man. All sharp edges and venomous tongue. The adorable guy replaced by whoever this electric lethal man is.
Lilard’s fingers twitch underneath the table. There’s nothing left of the confident, flirty man who entered the room mere minutes ago. “That’s quite the critique for someone who…”
“Understands scientific rigor?” Reid tilts his head in cold amusement. “You see, your paper on the narrative structures in crime fiction misquotes Barthes entirely. Page thirty six, third paragraph. You attribute him a theory that isn’t his just to prove that his stand on your hypothesis was positive.”
He continues. Olivia watches in awe how this man metamorphoses before her eyes. He dismantles Lilard’s academic credibility with surgical precision. Each word landing like a scalpel cut on skin, each cut digging deeper into the man. There is something dangerously attractive about Reid in full attack mode. His mind working at a terrifying speed.
She imagines his ego is probably bruised quite badly by now. She steps forward, taking a seat next to Reid, who stops his rambling to look at her. “You see, as amusing as this conversation is. And trust me, it is.” She looks for a moment at Reid. “I have better things to do than watch you get roasted by my partner. Bianca Fellingad’s corpse was found yesterday in Brooklyn Hights. Her family happened to bring a box of belonging, in which some interesting letters were directed towards you. Any idea of what they might say?”
Lilard exhales through his nose. His lips twitch, and Olivia’s brows do as well. “I receive a lot of mail, Agents. Most of them from undergraduates who want to flatter their way into an A.”
“Except that Belinda Fellingad was no student of yours. In fact, she was a biotech student. Why would someone who isn’t your student and it’s not related to your field, send you letters, signing the letter with ‘and then there were none.’?
“I give open door seminars. I can’t control who comes in or out of them. If this is a ploy to make me feel implicated.
“We’re not trying to make you feel anything.” Reid cuts him. “We’re just trying to wonder why a woman who got her skull divided in half by an axe used your lectures to structure her final letter.”
“And the fact that your lectures are open door doesn’t mean they’re not inspiring a killer.” Olivia leans in her seat.
“Well, I think you’re giving me too much credit.” The professor finally mutters.
“Trust me, if it was for me, I wouldn’t give you any at all.” Reid responds.
“Is there any registry of who enters the lectures?” Olivia crosses her arms.
“They have to sign their names as they enter. It gives extra credit to the students enrolled at the university.” He responds.
“Where can we find them?” Reid asks.
“They’re with my TA, Caroline Drechner.” The teacher responds.
“We’re done here.” Reid states but doesn’t stand up from his seat until Olivia does, walking behind her out the door, just close enough to block Lilard’s view of her. As a silent barrier.
The energy between them is still tense when they join the team. Nobody talks for a long moment. Olivia thinks they might not be used to him snapping that way either.
“And I thought I was the bad cop.” Morgan breaks the silence, making Olivia smile.
“Yes, remind me to never bring post-modern theory around this kid.” Rossi says, a glint of something like mischief in his eyes.
“What did you mean with questionable preferences in women with badges and guns?” Prentiss frowns, and JJ nods beside us.
“That was nasty.” Olivia shakes her head. “I felt like a piece of meat inside that room.”
“Because he did.” Hotch interferes. “He asserts dominance by sexualizing authority, reduce women to their bodies so he doesn’t have to deal with their minds. Textbook narcissist.”
“He’s not our unsub. Narcissists tend to search glorification from their murders. They wouldn’t disguise themselves under someone else’s ideas, especially his. He wouldn’t do it under a woman’s ideas.” Reid states, but Ortiz already knew that.
“It’s a woman he cannot sexualize. She’s dead.” Prentiss cuts.
“Have Garcia check the list of assistants to their lectures. We’re looking at this wrong.” Hotch says to Rossi. “Our unsub is a woman.”
“It makes the most sense. Our victims recognize the unsub from the lectures. They don’t think they’re receiving classes with their murderer.” Rossi crosses his arms over his chest.
“We check the list, we find the unsub.” Derek says.
“Something tells me it’s going to be harder than that.” Rossi mutters.
Penelope calls shortly, telling them that indeed all the victims had attended the professor’s lectures at least once. JJ remembers that one of the victim’s best friends told her she occasionally assisted to her classes despite being enrolled in other university. Penelope cross matches, they had indeed attended the lecture together.
“What if the unsub is trying to prove to Lilard that she’s better than all of the rest.” Olivia says. “By making real the fantasy of the book.”
“Someone emotionally involved with him?” Rossi asks, but Olivia shakes her head.
“Someone in love with him. A past TA, an obsessed student.” Reid says, but Olivia is already walking back to the interrogation room. Where Lilard sat there, bored.
He glares up the moment she enters and sits up, not a trace of the charming, flirty man she saw minutes ago. Reid completely destroyed him and Olivia couldn’t be more grateful.
“You don’t bring your guard now?” He mocks.
“No, but I brought my gun.” She raises her brows. Leaning over the desk. “You know who the killer is.” She says, his eyebrows knit. “She was your student. You slept with her, and then she started appearing everywhere. She showed up at your office and at your house. She’s the reason why your wife divorced you. Now you’re afraid of her.”
“How dare you imply that I slept with one of my students.” He raises from his seat. Olivia is satisfied, she clearly struck a nerve.
“Sit back down.” She orders, almost yells. “And I’m not implying, I’m assuring. She didn’t file a sexual harassment formulary, she started stalking you, and now she’s killing so you’re proud of her. Who’s the teacher’s pet?”
“Teacher’s pet? This is not a game. You don’t know anything about any of us.” His voice cracks. “She was unstable before I even met her.”
Olivia leans in, voice sharp but almost a whisper. “So why didn’t you report her? You enjoyed her attention, didn’t you? She was just fine, young pussy, you could control. Until you couldn’t, so you dumped her.” She says, the door opens behind her, but she doesn’t take away her stare from his. “But she’s not going to do anything to you. That’s why you didn’t mind she was killing other girls you gave attention to.”
He slams the table. His face red as a tomato. “I want a lawyer.”
“Liv…” Reid’s voice cuts her, his hand on her waist, trying to get her away.
“What’s the name, Lilard.” She’s sharp. For a moment she’s sure dangerous is a word she would use of herself.
“Erin DeWitt.” He says. Liv and Reid share a stare before she storms out of the room, followed by him.
“You pushed him.” Prentiss comments, impressed.
“He needed it.” Olivia exhales, still burning with adrenaline.
“Baby girl, give us everything you can find on Erin DeWitt.” Derek says against the phone and puts her on speaker.
“Erin DeWitt…” She starts. “Twenty-three-year-old literature student at NYU. Oh wow, recently taken off her medication, bipolar disorder, several episodes. She attended… every single lecture, enrolled in every class imparted by Lilard. She wrote him emails, text messages. It’s borderline obsessive.”
“That’s our unsub. Garcia, do you have a direction?”
“She rents an apartment in East Village, sending the address it to your phones now.” She leans back in her seat.
“Let’s go.” Hotch instructs.
The SUV motor hums steadily beneath them, headlights slicing through the dusky New York traffic. Olivia sits in the passenger seat. Reid drives, focused only on the road. The ride to the place is silent. Olivia’s stomach hurls with ideas of things going wrong, of one of them drying, of the unsub escaping. She had already physically fight one and, according to Reid, she almost died in it.
“You’re nervous.” Reid comments from behind the wheel.
“I am.” She responds, fidgeting on her lap.
“You really went hard on him.” He says after a long beat, his voice calm, almost impressed.
“I don’t like when who think they’re the smartest in the room just because they were elbow patches.” Olivia mutters, and Reid’s mouth twitches in a soft smile.
“I didn’t like how he treated you… That’s why I walked behind you.”
Olivia turns her head towards him. “What?”
“After the interrogation. I walked behind you when we left the room.” He says, eyes still on the road.
She smiles a bit. “In case he decided to pull my hair?”
“No.” He says quickly, then falters. “I just… didn’t want him to look at you again like she did.”
Her heart skips a long beat, she blinks and smiles. “Oh, I thought it was so he wouldn’t stare at my ass.”
The words leave her mouth before she can think twice about them. She sees in awe how his ears go pink and his cheeks turn into a rosy shade.
“I… what? No!” Reid stammers, and one of his hands lifts from the wheel in a flustered protest. His voice is a pitch higher than usual. “That’s not what I…- I mean, I didn’t.”
She laughs, leaning her head back against the seat. “I really appreciate it, Spencer. But please promise me you will never read my dissertation.”
A lazy smile places on his mouth. “I read it two weeks ago. In the jet while you were asleep.”
“You’re awful.” She shakes her head but smiles.
He looks at her for a moment, and she’s looking at him. A moment of electricity passes between them before he returns his stare to the road. His throat bobbing. Olivia finds the cute man who checked up on her every day after being choked.
She takes a deep breath as he pulls up. They look at each other for a moment before stepping out of the SUV. “Don’t get yourself killed, okay?” He says, and she smiles.
“You ask for an awful lot, Doctor Reid.” She walks towards the rest of the group, gathering outside the building.
They walk inside as quietly as possible. Erin didn’t have a gun permit, but the team didn’t underestimate the possibility of having one. Derek breaks the door with a kick. Olivia raises her eyebrows, unused to the brutality of the fieldwork. Erin stares back at them, eyes wide, and turns around and raises her brows. Her clothes completely soaked in water. Prentiss and Olivia share the same grim stare.
As the police detain her, she confesses where the new body is. The group is silent as they drive back into the station. The air filled with unspoken words. ‘We were too late’. They pick up their belongings. Watching Erin yell at the professor, begging him to tell her he’s proud of what she did. Olivia shakes her head at the scene, almost as sad as it is repulsive. JJ places a supportive hand over her shoulder, and just as they arrived, the team leaves.
The case is closed. The team must return to the paperwork waiting for them in Virginia but now, it slumps in exhaustion, the jet hums a lullaby as Prentiss and Rossi sit across from Reid and Rossi playing cards, Derek sleeps and JJ just shared an inspired moment talking about her son when Olivia asked, Hotch just listened.
Olivia stands up, walking towards the group who just finished an intense poker game. She sits in the only free seat, next to Reid. Her knee brushes his, but he doesn’t pull away.
“You were wrong, by the way.” She says as he deals a new set of cards.
He blinks in confusion. “About what?”
“The goat.” She smirks, and Prentiss hides her smile behind her cards. “Turns out Virginia has three livestock auctions this week. Halloween is Saturday. I checked.”
Reid’s smile is slow, devastating. “You researched it?”
“I had to know if you were bluffing.” She picks up the cards he just dealt her.
“I never bluff.” He frowns, looking at the amused expression on Rossi’s face. “And the bunny costume?”
“Playboy bunny!” Prentiss and Olivia say in unison, breaking into a giggle, even JJ smiles from across the jet. “That’s still an option.” Olivia continues, looking at her cards.
“You don’t want to play with this kid. He’s from Las Vegas.” Rossi tells her.
Olivia shrugs. “In my neighborhood, we would’ve skinned him alive. I’m not scared.”
Their knees stay pressed through the game. He doesn’t even move when Olivia wins all the peanuts in the bid.
“Whoever wins a poker game against Reid deserves my trait to a beer.” Rossi says as Olivia leans back with a huge smile and a bunch of peanuts in her hand.
“I don’t drink beer, too sour.” She replies. “But I’ll take a fruity cocktail anytime.” She offers them the nuts.
He doesn’t break the contact, so she doesn’t either. Internally she doesn’t want to arrive at Quantico, knowing that the small, silly moment will break the second they land.
Chapter 3
Notes:
Well, english is not my mother tongue yada yada yada. You know the drill.
I would say the song for this chapter is manchild by Sabrina Carpenter.
Word count: 2937 words.
Enjoyyy
Chapter Text
The bar’s speakers hummed with loud music. The team had just come back to Quantico after three days on an exhaustive case in Minnesota. Instead of returning to their houses, the group had decided to celebrate the small triumph at a local bar.
Reid would never tell the group he hated when they did this. It’s not that he felt pressured to join. Many times he had tell them no, but he kept fearing they wouldn’t invite him if he denied. This time, however, was different.
Olivia, Penelope, JJ and Prentiss had been dancing for the last past hour, while Penelope, JJ and Prentiss had been sipping cocktails, Reid hadn’t seen Olivia drink anything, which he thought was more impressive. The DJ had noticed her and kept putting songs in Spanish. She moved her hips back and forth, mouthing the words of the songs as she moved with the hugest of grins. Even the rest of the girls couldn’t keep up with her.
Reid pretended not to notice how the rest of the men in the bar looked at her. He hated to admit that he was looking at her the same way those men were doing so. Some had even approached her and tried to dance close to her body. She would just give them a sharp look and stop dancing until they got away. She had told Morgan to take away guys who approached her, but so far he hadn’t had the necessity to get away from the group of ladies he was trying to seduce. Reid also notices how three of them are casting pointed looks at Olivia.
He stands up, ordering another club soda with lime. He thinks he must be the lamest guy in the bar, he turns to look at Liv, who’s dancing way too close to JJ, who’s visibly not used to it but not uncomfortable.
“Do you have any fruit cocktail?” He asks. The bartender is too busy glaring at the brunette, who is dancing with Prentiss to what he assumed was a dirty song based on her movements. “Hey!” The bartender finally looks at him.
When Reid walks back carefully holding the two drinks. JJ and Garcia are here now, out of air, making air for themselves in any way they can. Morgan has his arms crossed, the group of girls left somewhere in the time he bought the drinks.
“I think I’m in love with her.” Garcia says, looking at Olivia moving on the dance floor. “She’s like hypnotic.”
“You lasted ten seconds more than the rest of the building.” Derek jokes with a smile. “Get in line.”
“I’m not saying I’d kill for her, but I would consider minor arson.” Penelope adds, making Reid understand they’re joking. He sighs with relief.
“I’m pretty sure she impregnated me while we danced. I can’t explain it.” JJ shakes her head.
“I think it’s more impressive how she’s doing that completely sober.” Prentiss approaches the table. Olivia is still dancing alone, mouthing another song in Spanish. “I need a quarter of the energy she has.”
The song finishes, and Olivia looks at the team, a huge smile on her face as she walks towards the table. Reid is sure his heart skipped a couple of beats the closer she gets. He lifts the cocktail. “I figured you might be thirsty.”
She has her cheeks pink and a couple of hairs pinned on her forehead. She looks at him like he just got her a star. “For me? You’re an angel.” She takes the drink and sips. “This is so good, let me know how much it was so I pay you.”
He doesn’t find a way to tell her that he would never ask for the money.
“You were going to kill a couple of dudes dancing like that, pretty girl.” Morgan comments before taking a drink of his rum. Olivia looks at him sipping her drink.
“Why?” She asks, rolling her hips slightly as another song starts. Reid has to make the physical effort to look up at their faces.
JJ elbows Morgan. “Oh, leave her be. She’s allowed to have fun without being responsible for men’s heart attacks.” The blonde shakes her head.
“Exactly!” Garcia nods as she drinks more of her drink.
“It’s not her fault that men choke on their drinks when a pretty girl dances.” Prentiss rolls her eyes when she looks across the bar. She freezes as she recognizes someone. “Dean is here.”
Olivia freezes as well, looking at where Prentiss looks, her eyes open wide, and she looks at Morgan. “What do you got there?”
“Rum.” He says. She nods before taking the glass and downs the dark liquid completely with just a sharp single movement.
“I’ll pay it.” She tells him. “I have to get out of here before he spots me.” She hurries to pick up her purse, giving a twenty to Morgan and another one to Reid. “Thanks for the drink. I love you. Bye.”
She and Prentiss squirm around the bodies of people trying to get away from whatever she’s running, too late. A guy is already walking towards her, yelling her name. No one understands what it’s happening, but they all follow her, in part for curiosity, in part because they think she might need their backs.
“Olivia!” He yells at her at the exit.
“Leave me alone, Dean.” She says, walking through the parking lot. Her heels clicking as she walks.
“Olivia, talk to me!” He asks.
“Go fuck yourself. There, I talked.” She turns to see him.
“Just give me five minutes.” He begs.
Reid frowns watching the scene. He can tell that of the only three of them know what’s happening, Prentiss is shaking her head at him and the rest of the team just stands there. He can’t point it out of curiosity or loyalty. She hasn’t been one of them for long, but she is one of them now.
“I gave you three fucking years! I was about to give you the rest of my fucking life! You threw away three years, two months before our goddamn wedding!”
“Wedding?” JJ whispers behind him.
Suddenly he understood the raw, exposed rage she had. He doesn’t answer, his eyes are focused on Olivia, on the way she’s holding back tears, on how her voice is trembling in fury. He has seen her being vulnerable, but not like this.
“Livie, I messed up…”
“Messing up is buying the wrong kind of milk. Not sleeping with someone two months before your wedding.” Prentiss finally talks.
“This is between Olivia and me.”
Prentiss scoffs. “It stopped being it when you slept with another girl.”
“Liv, it was a mistake.”
“I was planning our fucking wedding, and you were fucking some girl named Fidelity. What kind of sick, twisted cosmic joke is that?” Olivia crosses her arms on her chest. Reid imagines that the temperature change between the warmness of her body after dancing and the cold weather of November must’ve hit her by now.
Penelope drunkly laughs lightly next to him. “Who calls a child Fidelity?” That earns a smile from him.
“Liv, please.” The man keeps begging, this time closing his fingers around her arm.
“No touching.” Derek interferes, putting himself between the man and his friends.
“Who is this guy? Are you fucking him now?” Dean asks, furrowing his brow. Only then Reid realizes he’s drunk, probably more than anyone in the group.
“That’s none of your business.” Olivia frowns, but Dean tries to touch her again.
“I said hands off.” Derek pushes him lightly away from her.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
And just like that… Dean throws a punch. It hits Derek square in the jaw. JJ covers her mouth with her hands, and Olivia’s eyes widen.
Dean’s drunk self doesn’t even have time to process the contact before he’s thrown against a wall by a hand that definitely wasn’t there before. “You just hit a federal agent, you dumbass. Do you have an idea of how screwed over you are?”
“Like I care.” Still trying to look tough in the most pathetic way Reid has seen.
“Oh, but you will.” Derek says. “You’re either leaving in handcuffs or with a concussion. Maybe both.”
“Derek.” Prentiss points.
“I’m fine.” He says, still holding a now visibly scared Dean, his brave façade disappeared under Derek’s threat.
“Dean, go home before you leave here with charges for assaulting a fed.” Prentiss advises, still holding Olivia protectively.
Derek lets go of the man. She looks at Liv for a long moment, like he still has the right to, and then, he finally stumbles off down the street, cursing under his breath.
The team remains silent for a long moment before Derek shakes his head and turns towards the door. “Let’s go back inside before you all freeze.”
Inside the bar, the warmth hits them immediately. The lights are still dim, music still playing as if nothing happened in the minutes that they were out. But the mood changed completely. Olivia sits down at a corner booth, visibly containing herself from falling apart.
Reid sits across from her. “You were marrying that?” He asks with a grimace. “Not to make fun of your judgement but you were going to marry that?”
“Reid.” Derek cuts him.
“It’s all right.” Olivia exhales a tired laugh. “It’s even worse when he says it like that.”
“It was my first time being a bridesmaid.” Prentiss laments, just as JJ brings a glass of water to Olivia. “Fidelity ruined it.”
Olivia scoffs. “No pun intended.” They look at each other with complicit smiles. Then she looks at Derek. “I’m sorry you got punched for me.”
“It’s okay, pretty girl. He punched like a girl.” Derek smiles and the whole group chuckles. “I’m sorry I didn’t punch him back.”
“I didn’t know you were engaged.” JJ says gently. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
“Oh no, you have to talk about it. I’m invested now.” Penelope cuts her. Olivia smiles at her.
“There isn’t really a lot to explain. We dated for years. He proposed last year. Two months ago, I came home after work and found him in bed with Miss Fidelity.”
Reid goes still. She broke the engagement two months ago. She said that he ruined everything two months before the wedding. His throat bobs as he swallows. She would be getting married by now, or maybe she would’ve already gotten married. The idea of the only woman he that has ever gotten his attention being married makes his stomach hurl.
“It was pathetic.” She shakes her head. “Calling everyone to tell them that we wouldn’t get married anymore. My grandma couldn’t comprehend why. She had already bought the ticket. The party was paid, the catering service was expensive as fuck, the venue, the dress, the fucking honeymoon. Everyone’s pity voice is engraved into my mind.” She smiles sadly, and that breaks his heart.
There is nothing left of the girl who was having the time of her life on the dance floor. Reid hates Dean for ruining the light in her so suddenly. He hates him for hurting her, for making her hopeful about a wedding that would never occur. He hates him for looking at her before he did.
“I had also bought my bridesmaid dress.” Emily continues her lament. “It was my first time. I was so excited.” Olivia smiles and runs her hand down her back. “I was so ready.”
“I know you were.” Liv almost laughs.
“Man, that is just not fair.” Penelope says. “I can ruin his digital footprint if you want to.”
Olivia laughs, and the sound loosens up the knot on his chest. “Thanks Pen. That’s the nicest thing someone has ever offered.”
“You tell me. I can hack his bank account. Put suspicious money that shouldn’t be there. The bank is going to detain him for fraud in no time.” She says, and Olivia’s smile runs deep in him.
He cannot describe his feelings. They’re not logical either. Why is he mad at Olivia for almost getting married before they even met? The idea of her walking across the aisle to another guy makes him want to vomit. Spencer’s mind spiraled with the thoughts when she stands up claiming her uber is here.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Emily asks, and Olivia squeezes her hand.
“I want to be alone, Em, but thank you. Bye.” She smiles at all of them and walks outside.
The table stays quiet for the longest moment before Penelope says. “That was intense.”
“It was.” JJ responds. “I feel so bad for her.”
“She’ll be all right. She bed-rotted in my couch for a week when it happened, but she’s back to her normal self.” Emily nods.
“One would think a man would think about his girlfriend while having sex with a girl named Fidelity.” Derek jokes, and the rest of the group chuckles.
“He was too deep in Fidelity to remember he had a fiancé.” Emily jokes. “I think I’m heading out too, guys.”
One by one, they left the bar. Reid cannot stop thinking about it at night while he tries to sleep. He knows that a person doesn’t fall out of love as easily as they fall in. She’s probably still in love with the idiot. And the idea kills him.
Hotch gave them a free day. Which somehow doesn’t make it any better. He spends the whole day replaying every single interaction he’s had with her, making himself flirtier in his imagination so she would actually look at him.
He decides to get over her thoughts of her. He paces across his apartment, does his laundry just how he likes it, arranges his books in alphabetical order of the title, then of the author’s name. He watches a documentary he has already seen four times. Killing time in the only way he knows how.
The next day, Derek arrives to office when Reid is already there, filling his third sudoku in the last five minutes. He’s attentive every time the elevator dings open until eventually, Olivia walks out of it, looking as confident as usual, moving through the place like she owns it. She looks as put together as always. She offers them one of those magnetic smiles the moment she steps into the room.
“Hey, pretty girl. How are you feeling?” Derek asks, crossing his arms across his chest.
“I just took a Xanax, so amazing.” She smiles with a bright smile, placing her bag on her desk.
Reid looks up sharply. “You—wait, really?”
Olivia shakes her head, amused. “No, Spencer, it is a joke.”
“Oh.” He nods slowly, embarrassed. “Good. Because the long-term use of benzodiazepines like Xanax is associated with cognitive impairment, dependency and a 40% increase in risk of motor vehicle accidents. Not that I thought that you were driving right now. Just… statistically.”
“I was driving just now.” She holds up her keys. “But noted, Doctor, no Xanax for breakfast.”
Reid’s stare lingers for a long moment on her before he looks back at his sudoku, but the numbers blur in his vision. Olivia puts on her headphones and starts working on paperwork, mouthing words while bobbing her head and rapidly writing in her computer. JJ approaches her.
“How busy are you?” The liaison asks.
Olivia looks up at her with a smile. “It depends, what you need me for?”
“Come with me.” She grabs her arm. Olivia happily stands up. “You, with me!” She points at Prentiss, who also drops everything to follow her friends towards her office, where Penelope was already at the door. The door closes right after they enter.
“What do you think they’re talking about?” Reid asks Morgan.
“That’s a committee, and they’re giving relationship opinions. The damn reason I have three divorces.” Rossi looks up from his computer.
“So Will screwed something up?” Reid asks, looking at the closed doors.
“If he didn’t before, he has now.” Rossi exhales sharply.
Laughter erupts violently inside the office, muffled through the closed door. Reid glances over again, then pretends to refocus on his work, but the letters mix together.
“Maybe they’re not talking about Will.” He mutters.
Maybe they’re talking about Olivia’s ex, and maybe they’re telling her that she should give him another chance, maybe she’s actually considering it. Maybe she’s calling him and telling him to re-schedule the wedding.
“They’re talking about someone, and that someone is doomed.”
Just then the door swings open. JJ strides out first with a smile on her face. Prentiss follows, clearly trying not to laugh. Penelope winks at Olivia, who has the widest grin he’s seen on her, she strides behind them with a document folder clutched to her chest.
Reid watches them walk past by.
Olivia glances up and catches his stare, she smiles at him. “What?”
“Nothing.” He blurts, looking back at his computer.
“I was trying to hook up Olivia with my neighbor.” Penelope smiles. “You would be such a cute couple. He has a son. But the kid is sweet, you would like him.” She tells the brunette.
Reid feels his heart stop for a moment. Olivia and Prentiss walk back to their desks, both giggly and smiling. Reid’s fingers hover over the keyboard, he writes a nonsensical phrase and then deletes it, over and over. He blinks at the screen, but it doesn’t make sense anymore.
“Cute couple.” He repeats under his breath to himself.
Chapter 4
Notes:
Low key this is probably the longest chapter of this fanfic but drunk Liv just make me happy.
Word count: 7633
Chapter Text
Reid hovered outside Hotch’s office, file in his hands, as he accidentally hears something he knows he shouldn’t hear.
“She’s a good fit, Aaron. She integrated perfectly into the team in less than a week. She listens, she contributes, she’s good with victims, she obeys orders. Damn it, she even got choked by an unsub just to help us catch him.” Rossi says, a quiet, firm voice. “She handled this rotation perfectly.”
“I’m not saying she’s not competent. She’s probably the most competent of all the applications. But this unit isn’t about skill. You know that. It’s about focus. Stability. And I fear she has become… disruptive.”
“Disruptive how?” Rossi asks.
“Reid. He’s distracted. Overstepping. He’s not thinking clearly as usual since she joined. I don’t think it’s a coincidence.” Hotch responds, Reid’s stomach turns.
“You think Olivia is a distraction?” Rossi asks. “Sure, the kid’s got a crush on a pretty girl. He’s also out of his comfort zone. That’s not necessarily a bad thing.”
“It is when it affects his focus.” Hotch adds. “I’m sending her back to VICAP with a recommendation.”
“You’re punishing her for something she can’t control.” Rossi’s voice showed his disapproval. “The team could benefit a lot from her addition.”
“It also benefits a lot from having him focused.” Hotch says.
Reid doesn’t stay to listen the conversation any further. He’s not sure what stung more- Hotch’s words, or the fact that he’s right. He shouldn’t feel as bad. VICAP is still in Quantico. Maybe he would see her roaming across the hallways, or he would see her in the break room. Although she doesn’t drink coffee, and he’s sure he has never seen her before. He’d remember her.
He hates the mere idea of his childness making Hotch push Olivia away. He walks down the hall with no real direction, maybe back to his desk, maybe as away from everything he can. His grip tightens on the file. He doesn’t realize it until the paper creases beneath his fingers. The knot in his stomach spreads wider. JJ’s the one who finds him.
“Hey, are you okay?” JJ asks him, putting a hand over his shoulder.
“They’re sending Olivia back to VICAP.” He says out, her eyebrows lift but her eyes fill with sadness.
“I’m sorry, Spence.” She says quietly. “Did she tell you that? I thought she’s still in Mexico.”
“I overheard Hotch and Rossi speaking.” He confesses, JJ tilts her head.
“You know you probably weren’t supposed to hear that.”
“I know.” Reid murmurs. “She’s perfect for the team, and she’s not going to be admitted because of me. How is Prentiss going to feel after her protegee gets declined because of something so stupid?”
“No one is blaming you, Spence.” JJ replies, as attentive as usual.
“Hotch says I’ve been distracted.”
“Then concentrate.” She lifts up a bunch of files. “It’s the moment to do so. This one is… bad.”
Reid follows her to the conference room, where Rossi and Hotch are already sitting. Reid can’t bring himself to look at any of them, so he just looks at JJ and Penelope. Morgan and Prentiss come in shortly after. Reid looks at the free spot next to Prentiss, almost hoping Olivia would magically appear.
JJ gives them the files. A series of murders of prostitutes, whoever did it slashed their throats open. He’s killing one every two days, outside hotels, casinos and public places, no one has seen anything but the girls falling to the floor holding their necks.
“How come someone kills five women in public places and no one sees a thing?” Prentiss asks. “It’s like this guy disappear.”
“Or no one wants to talk.” Reid mutters. “Sex workers are statistically the most targeted and least protected victims. People don’t pay attention. They look away. The killer not only knows it, he’s counting on it.”
Hotch nods grimly. “Five women in ten days. That’s rapid escalation. He’s either devolving fast or trying to make a statement.”
“Or both.” Rossi adds, flipping through photos. “No signs of sexual assault, nothing taken from the bodies, he doesn’t seem to move them either. Just slashes their throats almost surgically and moves on.”
“And so far is working. Vegas PD brushed off the first murder as a robbery gone wrong. They didn’t link the others until VICAP stepped in.” JJ looks at Reid for just a moment. His jaw flexes at the mention of the program.
“Who flagged it?” Hotch asks.
“No name, although I have my suspicions.” JJ responds.
“Smart girl.” Hotch mutters under his breath.
Reid’s lips twitch in a small smile. He’s not going to ask how could Olivia do that from Mexico. He supposed must be a contact in VICAP, which makes him a little mad that her old position is still there for her. He bets VICAP doesn’t want to let her go either. She’s clearly good at her job there, but he’s sure she’s better at this one.
“This is so weird. Prostitutes usually move in packs for protection. He’s killing them right where they work, how come nobody sees anything?” Prentiss crosses her arms in her chest.
“He must attack when the others are distracted. Maybe he’s not doing this alone. Is there security footage?”
“None that catches the actions, just the aftermath.” JJ replies and Hotch nods. “The jet is going to be ready for us in an hour.”
“What about Liv?” Morgan is the one who asks. “We’re doing this without her?”
“She boarded her plane to Las Vegas…” JJ checks the time on her phone. “Fifteen minutes ago. She’ll meet us there.”
Reid is secretly glad that she’s coming. He’s not sure that he’s able to think properly with her around him, but he’s sure he doesn’t want to think at all knowing this might be the last case she works with this team.
He had found some comfort in her presence, even if it complicated things for him. Even if his thought blurred when she stood too close or smiled or smiled too sweetly, even if he looked for her every time he smelled coconuts anywhere. He didn’t know what it meant, but he surely wasn’t ready to let go of it.
They sit quietly in the jet, Reid thinks about how he must stay away from Olivia, for his own sanity and for the team’s best interest.
Morgan is the one who breaks the silence. “Okay, now that she isn’t here. Did you know Ortiz was getting married?” He asks Hotch and Rossi.
Every single strap of Reid’s cool goes down the drain.
“I saw her wearing a ring the first two interviews for the job. Then she stopped wearing it, I figured she was either pretending to be single to obtain the job or had broken up the engagement.” Hotch responds.
“Nah, she didn’t call off the wedding. He cheated on her with a girl named Fidelity.” Morgan smiles.
“Can you do that?” Rossi jokes. The whole team chuckles, even Emily.
“The personal lives of the people under my charge are none of my business.” Hotch says, as politically correct as he can. “But no, I didn’t know that.”
“I think she would gladly appreciate if you let go of the topic.” Emily finally speaks. “She’s more hurt about the wedding that the actual cheating. She doesn’t need nosy people to remind her.”
“You knew?” Rossi raises his eyebrows.
“Of course, I was going to be a bridesmaid.” Prentiss responds, almost offended by the question.
Reid shifts uncomfortably on his seat, pretending to pay attention to his book. The reality is that he hadn’t been able to focus on a single word since Morgan opened his mouth.
“You knew the guy?” Rossi asks, severely invested in the new gossip. Reid thinks it must be the best one they had since JJ and Will started flirting in the middle of a case.
“Yeah, tell us about the guy, Emily.” Derek asks.
“He’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, but it seemed like he loved her too. Until he found a shinier toy, I guess.” She shrugs. “It was really sad. She showed up at my apartment when it happened. She cried so much, I’m sure she must’ve lost a couple of pounds. And somehow, she pulled through. I guess that’s why she asked me not to tell you, she was scared you guys would treat her like this, like she’s made of glass.”
The rest of the flight, they spend quiet, Reid is still unable to focus on a single word in his book, so he closes it. He’s glad when they finally land, and the moment they enter the local PD they find an FBI SUV on the parking lot.
“Looks like pretty girl is already here.” Morgan comments as they enter the building.
“The hot one? She has been in the conference room for the past hour.” The detective says. “If I had known the FBI had such cute girls, I would’ve applied at the FBI years ago.” He says with a grin.
Spencer feels his stomach turn.
It didn’t matter to him that they were standing in a police station, or that they were here for the brutality of five women being killed. Apparently, this guy thought it was the right time to ogle Olivia. Reid made the mental note to comment that to Penelope, she surely would do something about it. Not something legal, but something.
There is a beat of silence in which Prentiss fixes the man with a pointed stare. “Did you just say that out loud on purpose or was that just a tragic slip of the tongue?”
The detective mustn’t be as idiotic as Reid thought, because he chose to stay quiet.
Morgan chuckles as they step further into the station. “Yeah, you’d last five minutes in Quantico.”
“I would make sure of that.” JJ mutters under her breath.
Spencer keeps his eyes forward, but his mind kept looping that moment. Olivia, in the conference room, completely unaware of the way some idiot outside was minimizing everything about her.
JJ smiles softly. “Of course she’s already working.”
In the hallway, they could see through the glass of the conference room. She’s standing at the board, hands moving swiftly as she pins up the photographs of victims, maps, and timelines. She’s focused as she pieces everything together, a denim jacket draped over the back of a chair, her sleeves rolled up. She clearly hasn’t noticed them.
She hadn’t noticed either the four police officers who had dropped every kind of work in order to stand outside the glass and watch her like a piece of meat. It is Morgan, who stares at them with a sharp stare this time, it makes them dissipate back to work.
Reid stares, caught for a second in the magnetism of her, everything she does is so controlled, calm. Like she belongs there, and she knows it. Like there is not a single thing in the world that can make her not enjoy the work, not even jet lag. She moves a strand of hair behind her ear as she leans to grab another one of the photos, her lower lip caught between her teeth.
Olivia turns around when the door opens and grins at them. “Hi!”
“Hey, pretty girl. How’s mamá?” He asks, and her smile gets somehow wider.
“She’s great, better than I am.” She tilts her head. “I just made coffee, in case any of you need a cup.”
“And how was the Bad Bunny concert?” JJ questions and Olivia’s grin becomes an uncomfortable one.
“Greater.” She says and looks at Hotch for a moment, who’s giving her a pointed look before returning to JJ. “I forgot you followed me on Instagram.” She leans against the desk. “In my defense, my mom went with me. It was still a family affair.”
Reid catches Olivia’s eye for a brief moment, feeling the familiar jolt in his chest and electricity running over his whole body. Focus. He says to himself as he looks away.
“At least someone had fun.” Morgan smirks, crossing his arms.
“Yeah. Glad you made it in one piece. We’re going to need all hands on deck.” Hotch says, as sharply as usual.
Olivia nods and looks back at the board. “I took the liberty of placing the sites of murder in a map along with the residence of every single victim. I’m no Spencer Reid, but I tried. You see, every single one of them lived in lower end neighborhoods. You probably already made this connection, but all of them brunettes, all of them prostitutes.”
“Lower-end neighborhoods.” Rossi repeats thoughtfully, stepping closer. “So the killer might be targeting socioeconomic-demographic, not a geographic one.”
Olivia shakes her head, pulling out a folder from a desk. “I don’t think so. I cross checked their income brackets, there is nothing similar about this. I suspect it is more about their personal appearance. Our unsub is killing a specific type of woman. Brunette sex workers. I would think the geographical match is more of a coincidence.”
Reid is amazed at the speed at which her mind is working. The comment of the detective gnaws at him. Not because he likes her- though God, he does- but because it is infuriating to watch someone reduce her to just her body when the brilliance of her mind was shining right there.
“JJ, the families of some of the victims are already here. The detective wanted me to talk to them, but I have the grace of a bull in a china shop, so I figured out it’s better if they waited for you.” Olivia tells the blonde.
JJ gives Olivia a grateful smile. “Thank you. I’ll talk to them”
Olivia nods as JJ walks out. For a moment, the room falls into a brief silence, everyone taking a moment to appreciate the board and the information she’s laid out.
“You’ve been busy.” Prentiss says, with a half-smile, trying to hide how proud she is. There is a warmth in her voice no one can miss. Olivia at least doesn’t, she gives her mentor the warmest of smiles.
“I had time.” She shrugs. “And I figured out that if I stayed twiddling my thumbs, it would only be a waste of time for all of us, so I made myself useful.”
Morgan whistles low. “Useful? You practically briefed us before we even step into the room.”
Rossi gives a nod of agreement. “You saved us hours of work.”
“Me and Garcia. We have been on a call for the last hour. She just hung up like five minutes before you arrived.”
Reid doesn’t speak. He’s watching Olivia, still struck by the way she’s been two steps ahead- her mind like a storm, fast and precise. He had noted that before, but not like this. It was the way she stands tall under pressure and judgment, how it didn’t stop her at all. It only makes it worse for him to keep focus.
‘She’s lethal,’ he thinks. Not just smart. Lethal. In a way, a mind can cut through chaos. He would kill to know how it works, what kind of thoughts pass across that mind of hers, how she pulled all of this off in just a couple of hours while the team was gossiping about her personal life.
Prentiss leans towards Reid, whispering to him. “You’re staring.”
“I’m observing.” He whispers back, without taking his eyes off Olivia.
“Sure.” Prentiss replies ironically.
“You see? Socially speaking, the crime rates in the lower end neighborhoods tend to be higher, I believe that the victims casually live close because it is what they can afford.” Olivia finishes, clicking her pen as she circles back to the evidence board. “My biggest theory, and the one I think makes the most sense, is mommy issues.”
“His mom is a brunette prostitute, and that’s why he kills brunette prostitutes?” Rossi asks, almost unmoved.
“Statistically speaking, maternal relationship dysfunction is a common thread among violent offenders. That might explain why he isn’t presenting any sexual interest in the victims. He doesn’t fantasize with a sexual intercourse with his mother, he fantasizes about punishing her for something that she did.”
“Exactly.” Olivia smiles. “Now, I figured it out it must be really hard to find any kind of registry of sons of sex workers, as we know that sex work is a clandestine work. Pen is retrieving as much information as possible, but…”
“Liv.” Prentiss cuts her. Olivia’s big blue eyes look up at her. “Did you have coffee?” She asks with a smirk.
“I left Bad Bunny’s concert at three am and was boarding the first flight to Vegas I found at nine am, guess if I had coffee or not.” She crosses her arms, eyes glinting with faux defiance.
The detective knocks on the door and calls Hotch. He turns to see Olivia before leaving. “Great job, Ortiz.”
The brunette gives him a bright smile that makes Reid’s heart stop for a moment.
“Give her two more cups of that thing and she’ll find the unsub by herself.” Rossi jokes, pointing at the coffee, making everyone chuckle.
“Oh no, I don’t drink coffee for a reason. I’m about to have a seizure.” She tilts her head.
“Morgan, Rossi!” Hotch calls, getting the attention of the two of them.
They both exit briskly, leaving Olivia, Prentiss and Reid still gathered around the evidence board. Reid steps closer to the map, trying to find a connection between all the crime scenes, but Olivia tugs at her sleeve absentmindedly, staring at the pictures of the victims, a sad glint in her eyes.
“Why is it always the sex workers?” She whispers sadly, almost to herself. He looks at her.
He knows it is rhetorical questions, but he still answers. “Accessibility. Social invisibility. The assumption no one will care.”
“I care.” She frowns a bit.
Reid knows what it is. Everyone has a soft spot in this job. JJ’s is everything that involves suicide. Hotch’s is anything that involves children. Olivia’s is sex work related. He watches her as she leans against one of the tables, sitting on it.
“You know, in my first year in college I lived in a shitty apartment in a shitty place. My scholarship didn’t cover housing, and it was too expensive, so I had to rent. My parents helped me pay it, and I waited tables to afford groceries.” She says with a small smile. “One time, as I returned from work, I didn’t notice there was someone following me. But a sex worker did. She called off the dude and walked me to my house. That whole fucking year Kandy waited for me at the bus stop and dropped me off at my house.”
Reid listens quietly, his brow furrowed in concentration the way it does when someone says something that adds a layer to his mental map- not of the case, but of a person. Olivia has all the social skills he doesn’t, but she doesn’t speak often of her past. Not like this. He pays attention to what she says, bathing in the privilege of hearing her talk about her life.
“Sometimes she would go out with wealthy men and order me something. She said I was too skinny to be walking around late at night. She had big platinum blonde hair and would always wear red lipstick and bright colorful eyeshadow. And she loved animal print. She was always wearing it.”
Olivia chuckles softly at the memory, but there’s an edge to it.
“She once told me it was because I reminded her of her daughter. She got taken away by CPS when she was ten, and Kandy never saw her again. She said she wished someone would do the same to her daughter if she ever needed it.” She smiles softly.
“Did you stay in touch?” He asks gently.
Olivia’s small smile fades into something somber. She shakes her head. “She stopped showing up one day. I asked around. No one knew anything. No one cared to find out.”
There is a heavy pause.
“Reid, I didn’t even know her actual name. I tried to report her missing, and I couldn’t. The cop almost laughed at me for wanting to report a sex worker missing.” A single tear falls from her eyes, and he feels his heart shattering into a million pieces.
He reaches for her and quietly cleans her tear with his thumb. She blinks several times, looking at him.
“God, I can’t cry. My mascara will smudge.” She smiles, fingers running over the corners of her eyes to clean any wetness. “Sorry for venting to you.”
Reid shakes his head softly, voice low. “You don’t have to apologize, Olivia, not to me.”
She lets out a breathy chuckle. “I know, it’s just. You’re not exactly the emotional dumping ground type. I figured out JJ has that role.”
He huffs a quiet laugh, taking a seat next to her at the desk. He’s used to her being electric. A smiling, magnetic, charismatic spectacle, but this was the raw, unfiltered human.
“I like this side of you.” He says gently, almost like a confession.
Olivia turns to him, eyebrows lifting slightly. “The weepy trauma dump side?”
“The honest side. The one that trusts someone enough to let them in.”
“She exhales slowly, her gaze drifts towards the skyline outside the window. “It’s hard. I was so used to talking to someone, and now I kind of forgot how to do it.” She says. He knows she’s referring to his ex-fiancé, but he doesn’t think he minds.
“You’re doing it now.” His voice is soft but certain.
A moment passes before she looks back at him, and something shifts in her expression- something tender, fragile and real.
“You’re a lot easier to talk than you think, y’know?” She murmurs. “Even when you’re awkward.”
He smiles at that, a sheepish, lazy smile that he didn’t even mean. “I’ll take it as a compliment.”
“It was.” She says and nudges his shoulder with her, he starts feeling her back, the teases and charm. “Now, if you quote some kind of 19th century philosopher at me to analyze my trauma, I’m boarding the next flight back to Mexico.”
“I was actually going to quote a 20th century psychologist.” He replies with a teasing glint in his eyes. She laughs and tilts her head, grinning at him like he just handed her the sun.
“Oh, yeah?” She tilts her head, the hugest, prettiest smile he’s seen.
He grins, and for a second the room becomes lighter and warmer. Then, she looks back at the board in front of them.
“Hey, Em, do you think that…?” She turns, Emily, who was with them a couple of minutes ago, was nowhere to be found. Funny enough, Reid completely forgot her existence. “I swore she was here.” Olivia stands up.
She walks out of the room looking for her friend. Reid sits alone in the room for a moment before he starts working on the profile. Olivia made his job surprisingly easy with all the preparation. The profile basically made itself.
He steps out of the door, only to find Olivia and Hotch having a conversation. His stomach turns in fear.
“I’m not sure that I can get the bureau to pay you for today if you’re registered on a leave until tomorrow.” He says, she nods.
“It’s okay.” She says, as bureaucratic as possible.
“You shouldn’t have left your leave to work in this case, Olivia.” He says, sounding more father-like than someone who’s going to end her rotation in two weeks, somehow that pisses Reid off even more. “This case was conveniently flagged through VICAP, did you happen to do anything with it?” He asks, and her eyes widen for a moment.
“It depends. Would you be mad if I did?” She asks.
“No.” Hotch responds.
She sighs with relief. “Good, I thought I was losing my job.”
Hotch’s expression softens slightly. “You’re not losing your job. But we need to talk about boundaries.”
Olivia straightens, instinctive formal. “Yes, sir.”
There is a moment of silence before the boss asks. “You flagged it from Mexico?”
She smiles a bit. “I flagged it from the queue for the Bad Bunny concert.” She says, and the corners of Hotch’s lips lift up. “I know I shouldn’t have done it. In theory, my credentials shouldn’t work for VICAP anymore. But I saw the news about it on social media, and I dug further and found the other cases and thought, ‘Hey, there is no way these aren’t related’ and I flagged it.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s a federal crime.” Reid comments, making himself notable for the first time since he started hearing the conversation. Olivia looks at him, and she smiles.
“It’s not the only federal crime I’ll commit if you rat me out.” She jokes, the corners of Reid’s lips curve up for a second, and he raises his arms in a sign of defiance.
“I just came to say that the profile is ready.” He says.
“We’ll give it then.” Hotch says. “And Olivia.” He turns around, the smallest remain of a smile that she had disappears. “Great job… on everything. I’m sure Prentiss is proud.
Reid thought that was his way of saying he was proud. He just wouldn’t allow himself to show any kind of emotion. But Olivia smiles and then looks at Reid. “He’s proud of me.”
“It looks like.”
The group gathers around to present the profile, a white man in his late twenties to early forties. Organized enough to evade detection, disorganized in emotional motivations. The attacks are extremely personal.
“This unsub is escalating. He’s confident enough to kill in public and vanish without drawing attention. We need to increase surveillance in target areas and interview people who fit the profile.” Hotch finishes, some police officers start to move, while others just stay there, observing Olivia, who’s sat at a desk checking the files.
Reid approaches her, putting himself between them and her line of sight of her.
She frowns a little when he simply stands in front of her. “Are you feeling good?” She asks with a puzzled smile.
He doesn’t respond, notices the O on her necklace disarranged, and he slowly fixes it. She blinks up at him, her lips parting just slightly as his fingers brush the small golden charm resting against her collarbone.
“Thanks.” She says softly.
“It was bugging me.” He lies, and he swears she can see through it.
He gives a small nod, his eyes flickering for a second towards the cluster of cops still watching her from across the room.
He thinks it must be hard. To be as brilliant, to have such warmth, clarity of mind and still be reduced to a body in a room full of men. He won’t say it to her. He won’t admit that he only did it because he saw the way they looked at her. Like she was something they could consume with their eyes.
She doesn’t even seem to notice that they look at her like that.
Of course she doesn’t. She worked at VICAP- she’s used to being respected for her insights, her profiling instincts. She’s not used to having to clock the way men look at her in professional spaces. Not like this. Not in the field.
So he stood there. Fixed her necklace, touched her with a familiarity he hadn’t yet earned but one they wouldn’t question. He also hates the way it worked.
The men comment something, looking at botch of them before returning to their jobs.
The silence breaks when the indistinct sound of a ringing phone rings in the room. “Talk to me, baby girl.” Morgan starts.
“Okay, my gorgeous crime fighters. I ran the profile across different databases. The whole prostitute mother thingy is very tricky. There are a lot of gaps, a lot of silence, but I found a couple of articles of killed prostitutes that happened to have sons. I found four that match our profile. One of them went to prison for domestic violence. The other three seem like very normal society guys, clean as choirboys. One of them has a couple of parking tickets, but that’s all.”
Spencer looks at the board and then back at the files. The engines suddenly click on his brain. He stands frozen for a moment, the cogs in his brain spinning at full speed. “Wait.” He murmurs, stepping away from the board and pacing. “What if… no one sees him because they expect to see him?”
He looks at the group, but everyone is shooting him puzzled stares. “Yeah, you’re going to need to explain that, pretty boy.”
Reid turns sharply. “Think about it. These are all casinos and hotels, places with a constant flow of people. Security is tight. Cameras are everywhere. Tet no one ever notices the unsub approaching or leaving the scene. What if he’s not pretending to be invisible? He just blends because he looks like he belongs.”
Prentiss catches on fast. “Like a maintenance guy or a hotel employee?” She asks.
“No, they work from the inside. Must be someone getting in and out of the places.” Rossi says.
“A supplier.” Olivia says, looking at him. “Large amounts of supplies are being taken into every single one of those establishments every single day. Food, alcohol.”
“Exactly.” Reid smiles. A glimmer of something electric sparking between their shared thoughts. “He doesn’t have to sneak in. He walks through the front or service room, uniform, carrying boxes… or not carrying anything. No one stops him. No one questions him. He slashes the victim’s throat and keeps walking.
“That’s bold.” Morgan whistles low.
“And methodical.” Rossi mutters. “He’s done this before. A lot.”
Prentiss crosses her arms. “Garcia, can you check if the establishments hire the same vendors?”
“Give me a second.” Penelope says, the indistinctive sound of keyboard keys being pushed invades the line.
They wait.
“Bingo. They all share Empire West Services Nevada. They handle alcohol. There is a match. Kerian Vinni works there. He has been working there for twelve years. He was working during every murder. And his mother was a prostitute. She was murdered in ’92, unsolved case. He was taken to live with his grandparents. After complaints to CPS, he was taken to a foster home where he lived until he turned eighteen.”
“And he blames his mom for abandoning him. He punished women like her.” Rossi says.
“Penn, do you have an address?” Olivia breaks in.
“Sending it to your phones… now.” A click sounds, and all the phones ring with notifications.
“García, is he working right now?” Prentiss asks. The rumbling sound of a keyboard fills the line again.
“Oh no. He is.” She responds.
“JJ, contact the company, have them tell us where he is. Rossi, Derek, Ortiz, you’re with me. Prentiss, Reid, check the security footage, find in he’s there.” The boss commands as they start walking, before he turns to see her. “Are you a good shot?”
“I’m an amazing shot.” She smiles.
They all gather their FBI vests and leave, Spencer watches them do so, he shouldn’t be wanting to go with them as much as he is considering he’s a terrible shot. He raises his stare, finding both Prentiss and JJ glaring at him with a knowing stare.
“IQ of 187 puffs away wherever Liv is involved in something.” Prentiss jokes, her voice dripping with amusement.
“Shut up.” Reid shakes his head, approaching the laptop with the camera footage.
He settles over the laptop, fingers poised over the keyboard, and started pulling up the security footage.
His mind race, analyzing angles, timestamps, people moving in and out of the camera’s’ view. Somewhere in there was their unsub, the man who’d be so careful and yet so careless.
Reid immerses himself in the screens, but a flicker of movement from one camera caught his eye. A man slipping through a service corridor, holding two boxes that appeared empty, blending with the hotel staff as he belonged.
Reid’s heartbeat quickened. This is you.
“Found you.” He whispers.
“He’s also here.” Prentiss points at her screen.
In every single recording of the murders, the same guy, holding the same two boxes, walks past several cameras. Reid asks himself, how could he not see it before? But again, no one did.
He calls Hotch. “He’s at every single crime scene, minutes or seconds before the murder.”
“That can’t be a coincidence. We checked his house. He has all the news reports about these murders hang up on the wall. Those are his trophies. Ask Garcia if you can get a live footage of the Casino Liria, that’s where he is.”
“On it, sir.” Garcia responds. The laptop screen shines with the cameras, he can see him coming into the hotel.
“We’re moving in. Keep eyes on him and guide us if he moves.”
Reid does it, informing his boss of every single movement. The unsub must have heard the police sirens and panicked because instead of going out to hunt, he stays in the inside of the hotel.
He watches through the cameras how his teammates go inside the hotel, passing through unaware civilians as they scramble to find the unsub. Hotch is the one who looks at him first, saying something to the others, Morgan and Olivia separate from the group.
He knows she’s safe with Morgan next to her, but his jaw is still tight, tension coiled into every single one of his bones. The unsub has a specific victimology, but his head keeps hammering with ideas of him slashing Olivia’s throat.
“You really like her.” Prentiss finally glances up behind him.
“Is it really what you’re thinking right now?” He asks, feeling his heart pounding excessively in his chest.
“You’re white-knuckling the por desk like it’s her neck on the line.”
“It might be.” He says, watching Olivia move down a hallway, Morgan is a few steps behind her.
“They’re so close.” JJ says, her eyes flicking between the cameras.
They don’t see it. The unsub must know the casino well enough to find the blind spots in the cameras. They can’t see what he does. They only watch Morgan being kicked on the floor intensely, dropping his gun away.
“The motherfucker was hiding.” Prentiss comments.
Olivia raises a gun at him just as he lounges towards her holding his knife. Reid’s heart feels like it’s going to explode. He’s going to kill her. He’s going to kill Olivia and they could not do anything about it.
“Come on, Liv.” Prentiss whispers. She’s holding JJ’s hand steadily, almost as if she didn’t Olivia would disappear.
Kerian tries to push her against the wall, to have any kind of leverage to do something to her. She doesn’t give him the satisfaction. She says something that they can’t hear, but the words must cut deeply into him, because he jumps to attack her. She moves, catching him in the ribs with the heel of her platform boot, something Reid would expect from Morgan but not from her. Before he can do anything, the flashes of two shots illuminate the screen.
He drops the knife to hold his shoulder, where a thick string of blood is tainting his light blue uniform as another runs from his knee. Olivia watches him heavy chested before approaching Morgan, offering him her hand to stand up. Reid thinks that it is Morgan the one who’s safe around Olivia. Apparently not the other way around.
Reid watches in awe how she even gives herself the privilege to giggle when she cannot support his whole weight with just one hand, struggling to keep her own balance. Rossi and Hotch join them shortly after.
“They are all safe.” JJ smiles.
“She is a great shot. I trained her.” Prentiss smiles proudly.
Reid’s pulse hasn’t come back to normal when Hotch tells them that they have the next of the day free. His mind hasn’t wrapped back to normal either when he decides to go visit his mom. His whole body aches to speak with Olivia, to have any kind of confirmation that she is indeed well and he didn’t imagine it, but he’s afraid of what he might do if she comes too close to him when all his thoughts are this fogged.
Hours later, after using his FBI badge to stay a little longer than it was accepted by the hospital. He returns to the hotel, sure he’s smelling like hospital soap. Still, he makes a quick stop at the hotel bar.
Reid spots her immediately, curled into the bar, hair slightly messier than usual, tracing the rim of her glass. She’s already half a drink in, swirling her straw over a bright pink liquid. He suspects it’s not her first drink.
“I figured I’d find you wherever alcohol is.” Reid says, his voice dry as he sits next to her, a small smile tugging his lips up.
“And you were right.” Her smile curves up, lazy and slow, and he wonders if she knows how dangerous is it. He reaches for her drink and sips it. She looks at him, bright blue eyes watching his every action.
He licks his lips instinctively, and he swears Oliva takes a deep breath. “Tastes like strawberry.”
“That would be my lip gloss.” She smiles, twirling the thin gold chain around her neck.
Reid watches the delicate movements of her fingers, the way the chain glints under the bar’s soft lights. Her eyes lock with his, sparkling with mischief and something softer underneath. The kind of looks that makes his chest tighten and his thoughts scramble.
“And Prentiss? I figured she would be glued to you after this afternoon.” He asks, she scoffs a laugh.
“She and Rossi are gambling away their government salaries.” She sips more of her cocktail.
“How many of those had you had?” He asks her, and she smiles.
“Of these?” She points at the glass with one perfect nail. “This is the first one, but I had two shots of tequila to warm out before.”
He smiles as well. “Should’ve known it.” He responds, reaching into his pocket for a deck of cards. “Do you want to see a magic trick?”
“Do you always carry one of those in case you run into an impressionable drunk girl?” She asks, looking at him while he shuffles them with a practiced ease.
“No, you just got lucky.” He responds, and she giggles. He smiles a bit, looking at her. She’s back to fiddling with her necklace, the smell of coconuts wrapping around him like a warm invitation. “Alright, pick one, any card.”
She watches him with amused anticipation, reaching out to select one. He then gives it to her. He takes four cards out of the deck, a two of hearts, seven of clovers, four of diamonds and a queen of hearts. He shows them to her, who’s holding her card against her deck with the hugest of grins that has him completely enthralled.
He turns the four cards, snaps his fingers and starts discovering them. Seven of clovers, four of diamonds, queen of hearts and the last one he turns around it’s a four of clovers. Olivia gasps, impressed, checking the card against her chest, only it isn’t a four of clovers anymore, it is a joker.
“What?” She giggles, looking at him like he just handed her the sun. He grins at her reaction. “You’re dangerously charming when you want to be.”
That catches him off guard for a second. His gaze lingers on her a beat too long. She shifts in her seat, suddenly he’s aware of the way his knee brushes against hers under the bar and he doesn’t want to pull away.
“One time I read that magicians use magic tricks to flirt with girls.” She says, looking through the cards as if to make sure he didn’t cheat. “Are you flirting with me, Doctor Reid?” She tilts her head, shining eyes meeting his in the most disarming way.
“Only if it’s working.” He responds, and she looks at him for a long moment.
She tilts her head, lips brushing the lip-gloss coated straw before she murmurs. “It kind of is.”
He feels the urge to change the topic. “You don’t gamble?” He asks, shuffling the cards away.
“Nah, I just felt like sitting in a bar alone and see what kind of magician might appear.”
“So you were expecting me?” He raises his brows.
“You always show up in the right time.” She shrugs.
“That’s a lie. I usually show up when someone has been murdered.” He responds, and she bubbles in a laugh, the genuine laugh that he rarely gets to hear from her. He grins.
She takes another long sip of her drink. “You’re funny. I love funny Reid.”
“You only find me funny because you’re drunk.” He says gently, studying her.
“I’m not drunk.” She blinks at him slowly. Then she frowns at her glass. “I’m just super-duper tipsy.”
“I’m sure that qualifies as drunk.” He takes off his wallet and places a twenty in the tip jar before taking her glass from her before she can protest. “If I let you finish this you’ll end up gambling your entire savings account.”
She snorts a laugh. “Joke’s on you, I don’t have a savings account.” She giggles, and he realizes she’s drunker than he thought.
“You’re about five minutes away from passing out on this bar stool, and I rather not explain to Morgan why I let that happen.”
She looks at him, trying to appear as serious as she can.
“This feels a lot like being arrested.”
“I might if you resist walking to your room.” He says. Giving her his hand as she slides off the stool, with more confidence than balance. He steadies her with a firm hand on her back. They walk into the elevator, and she places her head on his shoulder. “Don’t fall asleep, Liv.”
“I won’t.” She exhales a laugh. “I’m one hundred percent awake. Well, let’s say ninety percent.” She says.
The elevator dings open, and she removes her heels before walking outside. Somehow, that gives her even worst balance. She makes it to the hotel room, where they stop. Olivia leans against the door, twisting the keycard slowly in her fingers.
“You’re sweet when you play responsible.” Her voice is soft and teasing. Her lip gloss shimmers under the hall lights and Spencer asks himself how would her lips feel against his and if the lip gloss would taste more like strawberries than in the straw.
“Are you sure you can make it to bed without tripping and falling?” He asks, and she gives him one of those teasing smiles.
“Is that a ploy to take me to bed? Because I’m a respectable lady.” She bites her lower lip.
Reid chuckles under his breath, cheeks flushing a pink shade. “No ploy.” He says, voice low and sincere. “Though if I were planning one, I think it would involve fewer tequila shots.”
Olivia hums, still leaning lazily against the door, still with a huge grin on her lips. “That’s a shame. I was completely willing to lose my respect to a boy genius.”
He exhales a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re surprisingly coherent for someone who should, by all logic, be slurring.”
She twirls the keycard between two fingers. “Don’t count on it lasting. I’m already forgetting how to English.”
Reid grins. “That’s not how you say it.”
“Exactly.” She says, trying to like the card up with the reader. She misses a couple of times. “You see? My brain just gave up.”
He steps forward, gently plucking the keycard from her fingers. Their hands brush, and she glances up at him through her lashes. He carefully slides the card into the reader and waits for the green light. It blinks, and he pushes the door open.
“Come on.” He says, soft and fond. “Before you decide to nap in the hallway.”
“Oh no, I’m just gonna plop into my bed.” She shakes her head. “Good night, Doctor Reid.”
He smiles. “Good night, Liv.”
The door closes, and he spends a solid minute in front of it. Smiling like a fool before he finally decides to walk back to his room. He goes to sleep that night with the biggest of grins, heart racing as he replays every single moment of the night with her. Never more thankful for having an eidetic memory.
Next morning, the jet hummed beneath them, slicing through the clouds like they were used to after a case. Reid sat with his book open on his lap, though his eyes hadn’t moved past the same sentence in twenty minutes.
Across from him, Olivia and Prentiss were slumped together on the leather seats, consumed by the kind of hangover that only Vegas could give to someone. Emily’s fingers held lazily an empty Gatorade bottle, while Olivia’s head was tipped against Emily’s shoulder. He wondered how such a chaotic person could look so peaceful when she slept.
The image of her at the door flickered back in his head: glossy lips, warm laugh, lovely grin, the way she swayed a little closer than necessary. He hadn’t kissed her. He’d thought about it maybe a million times. He’d even thought about what it would be like to hold her face gently with both hands, and kiss her like people did in the movies.
But he hadn’t. He wasn’t sure he knew how.
Chapter 5
Notes:
I don't think I have a note for this chapter, tbh.
I just realized that this is for sure the longest chapter
word count: 8016 words
Chapter Text
The girls giggled happily as Olivia served the third round of mojitos of the night. Olivia had invited them to her apartment for a girl’s night. Penelope tells them her new love adventures with this guy she met on a dating app while JJ contains her slightly drunk laugh in every way she can. Liv smiles at them.
“So…” JJ leans forward in the table. “What’s going on between you and Reid?”
Olivia smiles at her. “What’s going on between Reid and me?” She asks back. “As far as I’m concern nothing is happening between Reid and me.”
It was technically true, there was nothing happening between them. Olivia wouldn’t admit she kind of had imagined it happening. She had been ashamed as hell when she woke up in Vegas, using a hangover as an excuse not to talk to him about the shameless flirting she had partaken in the bar.
Hell, she wasn’t even hangover, but everything was better than having a serious conversation with him after immodestly admitting that she was up for sex if he was. Thankfully, he had just brushed it away, thinking she had forgotten about it, and she pretended like she did.
Prentiss raises a brow and sips her mojito slowly, clearly not buying it. “Nothing?” She echoes, setting her glass down with a pointed look. “Nothing usually doesn’t include saving someone the last donut. Or walking her to her car every night.”
“He walks to his car as well, you know?” Olivia cuts, but the girls ignore her Olympically.
“Have you seen the way he looks at you?” JJ smiles sweetly, tilting her head.
“He looks at you like you’re a statistic.” Penelope says, and Olivia frowns.
“Is that a good thing?” Olivia giggles.
“We’re talking about Reid.” Prentiss tilts her head. “That is like the biggest of compliments to exist when it comes to him.”
Olivia rolls her eyes. “I think you’re looking too much into it.”
“Are we?” JJ raises one perfectly trimmed blonde brow.
“Yes, you are. Olivia plays with her straw and a piece of mint. “And I don’t think I’m up for anything romantic right now.”
“Liv, Reid is not Dean.” Prentiss says and the sound of his name is like a punch in the stomach.
“Yes, Reid is a nice guy.” JJ smiles.
“The nicest.” Penelope nods.
“That’s what I thought about Dean and how did it end?” Olivia presses her lips together. “I just… don’t think I can trust again. I’m afraid that I’ll let my defenses down and it will happen again, and God knows I couldn’t bear having my heart broken like that again.” Her lip wobbles, and JJ walks across the table to hug her.
“It was a shitty thing, and you didn’t deserve it, but it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t trust again.” JJ comforts her.
“I just… keep having this stupid nightmare. In ten, fifteen years, being someone’s wife and he ruins everything selfishly. And it just keeps hammering my thoughts because I wasn’t enough for one guy, so why would I be enough for any of them?” She feels a tear falling down her cheek.
“You were enough.” JJ’s embrace of her tightens. “You were more than enough, Olivia, you really have to believe it. He didn’t cheat because you lacked something. He cheated because he did.”
Olivia takes a shaky breath, blinking back the teary blur in her eyes as she pulls away. “I think about him a lot. But I don’t miss him.” She reaches for her drink again, but she doesn’t drink it, she just wants to do something with her hands, anything. “I just… keep mourning the what ifs. What if he hadn’t cheated? What if we had gotten married? Would we be happy? Would be as in love as I was? What if I had spent less time buried in work and would’ve actually given him the attention he wanted?” She sniffs.
“You didn’t cause him to cheat, Liv. He took that decision by himself.” Pen holds her hand.
“I know. And I also keep wondering what would’ve happened if I would have forgiven him like he asked me. I think I would have been paranoic all the time and I would’ve expected him to cheat on me until he actually did again and blamed it on me.” Olivia leans back on her seat.
“You did the best for your own sanity, Liv, you know you did.” Prentiss holds her hand.
“I know.” Olivia cleans the stray tear falling further on her cheek. “I just don’t want to live like that. Wondering if the guy I’m with is cheating on me when he’s actually at the grocery store. Like I’m counting the seconds until the betrayal. It’s not fair to him.”
“It’s not fair to you either, Olivia.” Prentiss says, and to Olivia, it sounds almost scolding.
“He doesn’t have that power. He doesn’t get to ruin love for you.” JJ says firmly.
“I feel like he already did.” Olivia smiles dimly.
“No.” JJ shakes her head without missing a beat, scooting closer, her voice calm but fierce. “He cracked it. He bruised it, but just like actual bruises, it will go away.”
“Just don’t close the possibility of love, darling.” Pen squeezes her hand lightly.
That night, before sleeping, she repeated her friend’s words. Maybe she should follow their advices. She had pulled herself from the lowest of her life four months ago. She could learn how to trust again. Her therapist said she was protecting herself, and not trusting is her way of feeling powerful, but it also makes her very lonely.
Next Monday, she walks into the office looking the best she could. She took her sweet time getting ready, even if the only things that changed about her was the lack of under-eye bags and lack of alcohol in her bloodstream.
“Hey, pretty girl. Looking good today.” Derek compliments her, and she smiles at him.
“Why? Do I always look horrible?” She smirks.
“Don’t go putting words in my mouth.” He raises his hands in sign of defeat.
Olivia is still not sure if she should take a seat in the desk that has been hers for the last two months, but she does it as well. Hotch hasn’t had the talk with her. The talk where she would know if she was staying in the BAU any longer or if her return to VICAP was processed.
The moment she sits, she regrets it. Her eyes keep flicking to Hotch’s closed office door like it might swing open at any second. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to sit. Maybe her rotation had ended last Friday, and she just hadn’t gotten the memo. Maybe they were already waiting for her and VICAP.
Her fingers closed around her purse, preparing to make up an excuse and leave as gracefully as possible. Not that she thinks that Morgan would mock her if she grabbed her things and left, but for her own sanity, she would want to keep it casual.
Just as she’s going to stand, Reid walks into the office, holding a file in one hand and a coffee cup in his hand. He stops mid-step when he notices her. “Hey.” He says softly.
“Hi, Reid.” She smiles at him.
She glares tentatively towards Hotch’s office. She’s grateful Emily is not here. She wouldn’t want her mentor to watch her like this. So expectant, so pathetic. JJ walks in and smiles at her. She smiles back, unable to not notice the bunch of files she’s holding. She cannot count them, but she’s sure there is one less of them than last week.
The footsteps that approach catch her attention as well. She barely looks up when Hotch says. “Ortiz. My office, now.” He demands without even stopping to address her directly.
“Yes, sir.” Olivia stands up, sharing a brief glance with Morgan and Reid, the latter smiles lightly at her.
She can feel their stares on her back as she walks and that makes her even more nervous. She walks behind him, she smoothing the sides of her blazer. Not because she needs it, but because she needs something to do with her hands. She doesn’t want to look like she is afraid, even if her heart beats heavily against her chest.
Hotch has already walked inside and left the door open. Out of pure habit she knocks on it before stepping in. He gestures the seat in front of his desk without looking up from the file he’s reading.
“Close the door, please.” He says.
She does. The silence that follows stretches long enough for her to glance at her reflection in the window behind him. She tries to keep her breath steady, failing miserably.
Finally, Hotch closes the file and places it down.
“I’ve spoken to the higher-ups at VICAP,” he begins, calm and steady. “They’re expecting your return.”
Olivia feels her throat tighten. She nods slightly, preparing herself for the dismissal. She’s about to talk, to thank him to the opportunity and tell him how much she appreciated it. How much she learned from the field and how she’s going to take that experience back to VICAP. He gestures at her with his hand, asking her to let him finish.
“That made me realize something that deep down I already knew. If they’re so desperate for your return is because you’re an excellent addition to any group.” He continues and Olivia frowns a little. “So I told them you wouldn’t be coming back.”
She blinks. “Sir?”
“You’ve been an asset here, Ortiz. From your insight in the Arizona case to the way you handled the Vinni case and the Lilard interrogation. Your instincts, your ability to connect dots other might overlook. It hasn’t gone unnoticed.”
She blinks rapidly, throat still tight, but for entirely different reasons.
“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” She giggles, pressing her hand on her chest. “I almost died of nerves.”
Hotch’s lips twitch, almost imperceptibly, but she catches. “I’ve requested your rotation to extend another two months officially. Unofficially, if I have my way, you’ll stay here permanently. If that’s what you want, and VICAP dignifies to accept defeat.”
She laughs again. “I do.”
“Good. You've earn your place here.” He leans back in his seat. “You might want to play them. They’re nosy.” He looks at the window next to him. She sees that the whole group, Penelope included, has gathered around Morgan’s desk, watching expectingly at Hotch’s office.
“I will.” She smiles, standing up. “Thank you, sir.”
“Welcome to the team, Olivia. For real, this time.” He nods.
Olivia takes a deep breath before opening Hotch’s office. The team doesn’t bother in pretending that they were doing something else. They look at her expectingly. She fights to keep her cool, making sure to look more disappointed than neutral.
The expressions instantly change, Penelope places her hand on her chest, Reid cocks his lips. Prentiss mutters something like ‘oh no’ and JJ’s brows twitch. The room is quiet, the clacking of her platforms being the only thing making a sound. She walks to her desk, her fingers closing around her purse again.
“What did he say?” Reid asks, drumming his index finger nervously over his desk.
“VICAP is expecting me.” She presses her lips together. Rossi shakes his head in disapproval, glaring towards Hotch’s office. Penelope looks like she’s going to cry and Reid glares at her as if she just died. “But Hotch extended my rotation another two months.” She grins, she watches their faces turn in surprise and then happiness.
“Jesus Christ, Liv, you’re so stupid.” Prentiss shakes her head and hugs her. Liv giggles against her mentor’s arms.
“You guys are so nosy.” She says, hugging her friend back.
“We really thought you were leaving us.” Penelope shakes her head.
“You worked just fine without me before.” She tilts her head.
“And we can’t anymore, kiddo.” Rossi says, Olivia smiles at him.
“And what happens after the next two months?” Morgan is the one to ask.
“Hotch says VICAP is fighting to try to get me back, but he’ll try to get me a position here.” She reaches for her water bottle and drinks a long sip.
“They’d be stupid not to try to get you back.” Reid says and Olivia looks at him with a soft smile.
“Yeah.” Penelope nods energetically. “I might have to partake in illegal activities to prevent that.”
Olivia chuckles against the straw of her bottle. “I don’t expect less of you, honestly.”
The laugh still lingers in the air when Olivia sets the water bottle down and looks around. Everyone’s eyes are still on her, smiles wide, the kind that feel like sunlight after a storm. There’s no mistaking it. They’re happy for her. Not just polite, not just tolerant, not pretending. They’re glad she’s staying a little longer.
And maybe that’s the thing that makes her chest tighten all over again, not with fear but relief. With something dangerously close to peace.
She can’t help but think how different this is from VICAP. She was good at her job, and she thought that she loved it, but it didn’t feel like this. The warmness of a team. The feeling of belonging somewhere. Sure, she was cordial with her coworkers, she eventually grabbed lunch with them, but it isn’t this.
Giggling with Morgan making sexual jokes that would totally send them to HR. Playing poker and getting beat by Reid. Having Rossi insist on giving her a fraction of her sourdough starter even though his always died. Sneaking out to go to Penelope’s room to gossip about people she doesn’t even know. It felt more than a work team. It felt like a family.
And Olivia feels welcome.
She exhales, finally letting the smile settle easily on her face.
JJ then clears her throat and lifts the folder in her hand slightly. “I hate to break up the love fest but…”
“We were going to start a conga line.” Penelope interjects and Liv giggles.
“- but there is a case waiting for us in the conference room.”
Olivia mock groans. “You mean I have to work? Not fair.” She shakes her head.
“Welcome to the BAU, pretty girl.” Morgan grins.
Olivia lets herself fall in step with the rest of the team as they walk towards the conference room. All familiar voices and confident strides and the click of heels in the ceramic. She takes a last look at Hotch’s office before his door swings open again and he joins them.
They check the case, and it’s probably the most horrific one yet. Seven victims, all heavily tortured pre-and postmortem, with cut wound all through the body. The unsub would take parts of the victims, like a finger, an eye or even a tongue. All the victims are recognizable, just… destroyed.
“Based on the nature of the mutilation and the specific body parts taken.” Reid says, Olivia looks at him. He’s eating something that looks a lot like a peanut butter and banana sandwich, flipping through the pages of the file like it’s just another casual day. “The unsub might be eating what he takes. Ritualistically or maybe compulsively.”
“Oh, my God.” Olivia blurts out , slapping a hand over her mouth. “Reid, I’m begging you, never say that again while you’re eating.”
He pauses and puts down the sandwich, his lips twitching in the smallest of smiles, like he finds the scene funny. “Sorry.”
She exhales hard and leans back in her seat. It’s not that she hadn’t seen horrific scenes before. She had probably seen more blood and corpses than any sane person should ever see. They usually didn’t get a reaction from her, but for some reason Reid’s mention of cannibalism made her almost vomit.
She looks at the corpses, noticing the different kinds of cut wounds, like some of them were made with scissors and others with serrated knifes and others with razors.
“Em, do you remember when we saw the movie with the clown?” Olivia frowns.
“Which one? You have forced me to watch three movies of clown killers and cheap gore.” Her friend responds.
“You make it sound as if you were held by gunpoint.” Liv rolls her eyes. “I think it’s the first one. The clown has a whip made of sharp objets and he would kill people whipping them with it.” Olivia tilts her head. “What if the unsub had something similar?”
“I mean, the dude is clearly a sadist.” Rossi says, and Olivia nods.
“But also, how much time would it take to make all of these cuts individually? Some of them look deeper than the others.”
“So you can see a clown kill people left and right, but I cannot eat in the conference room?” Spencer pokes, smiling. Thankfully, he hasn’t touched his sandwich again.
“Reid, I love you, but I’m about to yank that sandwich out the window, and I’m going to be so sorry.” Liv covers her eyes with her hands.
“You’d do me a favor. The bread is stale.” He continues with the smallest of smirks on his face. Clearly having fun with the scene. He pushes the plate further away from him.
“Nah, Liv’s right. There’s too much variation.” Morgan cuts. “If he made the cuts one by one, they’d be all similar. The unsub is experimenting.”
“And he’s not only exploring with the victims while they’re alive. He’s also playing with the corpses.” Prentiss adds grimly, flipping through autopsy reports.
“That’s dedication.” JJ mutters, her brows pinched. “Sick dedication.”
“Or obsession. He’s studying.” Hotch says. His voice is low, but it cuts like a scalpel.
Olivia shudders. Her eyes are still locked on a photo showing a woman’s back shredded in a way that almost resembled some sort of calligraphy. She leans forward, checking the other bodies. “Some of the cuts… they’re patterned. Look at the lower backs and thighs. They’re almost symbols.”
“Ritualistic?” Prentiss suggests.
Reid perks up again, like a light just blinked on behind his eyes, and Olivia starts fearing for the worst. “Or anatomical mapping. He might be following meridian lines. Like acupuncture points or pressure paths. It could be part of a large delusion. Maybe he believes he’s extracting something from them. Energy, sin, disease.”
“Drug induced?” Olivia asks. “A Chilean cult burned alive a newborn baby under the delusion that it was the antichrist and their leader was actually God. They had been drinking ayahuasca constantly for the last couple of years.”
“How do you know that?” Reid’s brows twitch.
“Netflix documentary.”
Reid’s brow lifts. He doesn’t comment any further. Instead, he leans in towards the table and points at the photos Olivia had just been studying.
“If he’s mapping, it could explain the consistency in placement. Meridian lines often intersect on the lower back and thighs. It’s also where blood flow and nerve clusters are concentrated. If the unsub is delusional enough, he might think that’s where… whatever he believes he’s taking, lives.”
“Still, it doesn’t explain why he’s keeping some parts. Tongues, fingers, eyes. He’s not taking them at random.”
Olivia’s mind run at what feels like a hundred miles per hour. “Because it’s not just an unsub. There are more.” She says.
The room quiets.
“Think about it. The one who is extracting…” she modulates with her hands. “crap out of the bodies while they are still alive. He can’t take it from the death bodies. It is disturbed. The one who’s actually killing them with the torture and taking the parts of the bodies. He’s not receiving anything spiritual, just physical. He’s the sadistic one.”
“Why didn’t I think of that?” Reid frowns.
“Because your brain is working like mashed potatoes lately, pretty boy.” Morgan mocks.
Reid rolls his eyes but doesn’t deny it. “That would explain the shift in signature,” he says, flipping to another autopsy photo. “The earlier victims have clearer incisions. Precise, almost surgical. The latter ones are erratic and aggressive. They don’t have the same control.”
Prentiss frowns. “Do you think they’re turning on each other?”
“No.” Hotch says firmly. “Not yet. But there’s a tension in the methods. If Ortiz is right, and I think she is. One of them is driven by purpose, the other by impulse. That kind of dynamic doesn’t last.”
“They’re going to turn on each other, eventually.” Morgan concludes.
“And we have to stop them before that.” Hotch decides. “Let’s follow Ortiz’s path with the cult part. Have Garcia research that. We leave for Texas in thirty.”
Olivia glances back at the photos, feeling her stomach turn. She perceives it will not be one of those fairly easy cases.
“I think I’ve lost my appetite.” Reid comments, glaring at his sandwich.
“I lost it when you mentioned cannibalism.” She waits for him before leaving the room. She didn’t bring her go-bag, not sure if she’d ever go on a mission with them. Now she had to run to her apartment and pray to make it back in time.
Miraculously, she does. As she walks out of her car, back in Quantico with her bag hanging on her shoulder and far too much layers of clothing to survive a glimpse of winter, she finds Reid stepping out of his car.
“You didn’t bring your bag either?” Liv asks.
“My bag? No, it’s in the jet. I had to feed my fish.”
Olivia stops cold.
“You have a fish?” She frowns a bit.
“Yes.” He replies with a small shrug. “His name is Socrates.”
Olivia scoffs, not surprised at all. She should’ve known that the man would not name anything like most people would. Olivia also thinks that she wouldn’t know how to name a fish either, so she’s not one to judge.
“What kind of fish?” She asks, noticing that his steps are becoming shorter to accommodate hers.
“Betta. They’re solitaire by nature, so he doesn’t mind having the big tank for himself.” He responds, and she smiles. What seemed like a moment ago, she couldn’t imagine Spencer taking care of an animal. Now, she couldn’t imagine him giving Socrates anything less than king treatment.
“That’s cute.” She says, almost more to herself than to him. “How do you do when you’re in a case? Girlfriend takes care of Socrates?
The words leave her mouth before she even thinks them twice. She had never wondered herself if he had a girlfriend, simply assumed that he didn’t for some reason.
It was easy not to wonder. She knew the bare minimum of her co-worker’s life. JJ was married with two kids. Hotch had a son called Jack; she knew nothing about his mother, and she didn’t need to know either. Rossi had been married three times. Single scraps of their lives that help her know a little more about them. She knew enough.
But she realized she didn’t know anything about Reid’s. She wouldn’t be surprised if he had a girlfriend, and for some reason the thought creates a weird twinge in her chest. Reid is… well, he’s good looking, in a soft kind of cute way. He’s brilliant. Kind. A little awkward, but also in a cute way. There must be women practically throwing themselves at him. Maybe someone who fits perfectly into his world.
She’s about to retract herself, to tell him that it is not of her business.
“What? No girlfriend. I have an autofeeder.” He says as they approach the jet. “Socrates and I have a system.”
Olivia lets out a short laugh, trying to pretend she didn’t just feel an insane relief knowing he’s single. “Of course you do.”
“You sounded awfully concern for someone who made fun of his name.” He teases, letting her climb the steps first.
“Well, I don’t think Socrates deserves starvation. My boy deserves the best.” She smiles.
“He does.” Reid responds.
She giggles as they step into the jet. JJ and Prentiss share a look that Olivia pretends not to notice before she sits next to her friend and puts her headphones on, blasting music at full volume to prevent them to making any questions. She watches Emily and Reid play a heated chess match that he wins right before landing. She also pretends not to notice how he shot her occasional glances, as if he needed to make sure she was alive and well between every single of his moves.
They are immediately in pure chaos. Another body had been discovered at the local woods, same marks in the thighs and lower back. Same messy cuts scattered all around the bodies, this time more violent. Hotch instructs both Reid and Ortiz to go to the crime scene.
Olivia hates how the walk in the woods is making her repeat the intro to Into the Woods. She also hates herself for wearing her usual platform boots. They were comfortable, and she could do every kind of thing in them… except walking in the forest.
“The way is clear, the light is good, I have no fear, nor no one should. The woods are just trees. The trees are just woods…” Olivia keeps muttering to herself while she heavily tries not to break her ankle.
“You said you could walk in stripper shoes.” Reid points, giving her his hand to keep her steady.
“The keyword is walk.” Olivia mutters as she grips it. “Hiking is a whole different gender.”
He chuckles softly, stabilizing her as they navigate the uneasy path. The policeman ahead of them doesn’t pay them any attention. Which is good, Olivia thinks. He doesn’t notice that Reid’s grip is steady and Olivia has to convince herself that it’s just a coworker thing. Reid wouldn’t want her to break her ankle in the middle of the woods, where she’s pretty sure bears live.
“Do you think there are bears here?” She asks.
“There are no bears here.” Reid replies quickly and she feels the color return to her face. “You’re more likely to come across a feral hog, honestly. Or maybe a cougar, a puma concolor, not the other kind.” He clarifies, eyes glinting like they do when he talks about something interesting to him. “Texas has a lot of them in remote areas like this. But they’re elusive. Snake bites are a higher statistical risk. Coral snakes, copperheads. Though the latter are more aggressive in spring.”
“Please stop.” Olivia squeezes his hand a little tighter. “That wasn’t reassurance, that was a murder threat in bullet points.
“I was just responding your question.” He smiles.
“I’m going to die.” She whispers dramatically as she continues walking.
He smiles. “Seriously though, I won’t let a snake… or cougar get you.” He says softly, probably joking, but her chest still tightens.
They continue walking, and Olivia hates that part of her brain that works too much and never shuts up, because it starts to wander. The bar must be in hell because, for some reason, she finds the reassuring that he won’t let her get mauled in the woods oddly romantic.
Dean really messed up with her.
His girlfriend would be very lucky. She thinks. If he had a girlfriend. Why wouldn’t he have a girlfriend?
In her two months of working with him, she hadn’t seen him text anyone. He hadn’t stepped away for calls. No goodnight messages, no mentions of someone back home. It doesn’t make sense to her how could a man so cute and weirdly charming be single.
A little, almost embarrassing sting creeps into her chest.
She shakes the feeling off just as the officer up ahead announces. “We’re close. Just up here.”
Olivia tightens her grip slightly, grounding herself. Focus. She can see the yellow tape against all the white snowy landscape. There is a body waiting. Another victim but still she can’t help but glance sideways at him.
She catches him looking at her. He offers a soft smile.
And God help her, she smiles back.
The body looks the same as the rest of them. The sadist has become even more violent, making the body almost unrecognizable. Miraculously, the body has not been destroyed by an animal, which according to Reid’s rambling, means the murder is rather recent.
“What if winter makes them need the ceremony more often?” Olivia crosses her arms on her chest. “I mean, the body naturally searches to preserve energy during cold weathers. If they believe that they’re extracting some kind of mystical energy from the bodies, they might think they need to extract other’s energy to survive the winter.”
“That’s an interesting angle.” Reid tilts his head thoughtfully. “Psychologically, there is historical precedent- ritualistic winter sacrifices in several ancient cultures were tied to renewal or survival myths.”
“Exactly. What are we? Like fifteen celsius. Even at this temperature, the brain might, this time of the year with things like dying light, low resources.”
“Is that how you feel in Virginia during winter?”
“Ninety-nine percent of the time. I’m a tropical bird, Reid.” She responds. “If they’re driven by delusion, maybe they think they’re beating winter by sacrificing these people.”
“And if that’s true, they’re going to keep going. Soon.” Reid says, eyes narrowing as he scans the body.
They continue analyzing the scene until crime scene investigation practically kicks them away to retrieve the body. Liv stands in front of the trail, taking a deep breath. Reid offers her his hand again and she takes it, even if she doesn’t think she’ll need it.
By the time they make it back to the Austin Police Department, Olivia’s hair is frizzing and her patience is hanging by a thread. She hates the outdoors. She hates nature where any kind of hungry thing can devour her.
“I’m never walking again.” She states as she walks into the room that the team had taken.
“That bad?” Morgan chuckles.
Reid shakes his head by her side. “She’s being dramatic.”
“Am I?” She takes a seat next to JJ. “I almost broke my ankle twice. Hiking was not in the job description. I didn’t know I had to pack sneakers as part of my FBI dressing code. Now I know.”
“You use the word hiking very loosely. It was barely three hundred meters.” Reid crosses his arms on his chest, obviously amused by Liv’s dramatism. Not fazed by hearing her complain about the twigs and roots and catastrophize about getting eaten by a bear.
“Those were the worst three hundred meters of my life.” She shakes her head.
“Sorry, how far is three hundred meters? I don’t carry metric.” Prentiss turns to Reid.
“About one fifth of a mile. Or three football fields.”
“You’re so strong.” JJ says with a soft smile.
“I know you’re making fun of me, Jennifer. But thank you. I am.” Liv responds.
Rossi walks into the room, coffee mug in hand, he glares at the scene and frowns a little.
“Why do you look like you fought against hienas?”
“It felt like I did. The trail was all muddy, full of roots.”
“You did that with those shoes?” He points at Olivia’s boots, and she nods.
“You understand me more than anyone, David.” Liv presses a hand to her chest.
Olivia’s dramatism gets interrupted by Penelope calling. “All right, my lovely crime fighters. I just checked the victim’s credit information. Turns out all of them had paid a spiritual retreat. Like one of those ‘cleanse your energy, hug a tree, scream into the void kind of deals. Those where they take your phone, wallet, soul… You know.”
“Rich white people shit.” Olivia shakes her head.
Penelope chuckles on the other end. “Bingo. It’s called The Path of Light and Renewal. Sounds peaceful until you realize that all identified seven victims went there. Not together but within a month.”
“What a coincidence!” Prentiss says, ironically.
“The founder also changed his name to Solaris Moonstone after ‘receiving a vision in Sedona’.” Penelope adds, and Olivia can almost hear the air quotes in her voice.
Olivia blinks. “Solaris what?”
“Birth name? Gerald Witherspoon. According to online reviews he’s a ‘visionary healer’ who leads guests through energy detoxes, forest awakening and something called ‘ego death immersion.” Penn continues.
JJ raises an eyebrow. “That sounds like a cult.”
“Actually ego death is a concept in psychology and spirituality…” Reid starts.
Hotch ignores him. Liv frowns a little. “Garcia, can you cross-reference other attendees with missing persons reports?”
“Already on it. I’ll let you know if I find anything.” She responds and hangs up.
Olivia exhales, tugging her hair behind her ears.
“Let me guess.” Morgan smirks. “You volunteering to go undercover?”
“In four inch platforms? Never.” She responds.
“Over my dead body.” Prentiss says flatly, arms crossed. “She’s not going anywhere near a cult. Ever.”
Olivia’s heart skips a beat, and she freezes for just one second.
She hears the words. She’s not going anywhere near a cult. There’s no debate in Prentiss’ tone. No tactical reason. Just you are mine, and I’m not letting you get hurt again.
It hits harder than she expects. Like getting hugged too tight when you didn’t know you needed one. Makes her remember she is loved, even when her brain keeps telling her otherwise. Even when her brain keeps telling her she’s not lovable at all.
Her throat prickles. Her eyes sting. Don’t you dare cry, Liv. Just don’t.
“Remember the last time we went undercover at a cult?” Prentiss remembers and shakes her head. “Nope. Not happening.”
Olivia does what she does best. Grinning, and play it off.
“Moooom, but I wanted to sacrifice something under the moonlight.”
Prentiss doesn’t even blink. Far too used to Liv. “Go journal about your feelings like a normal person.”
JJ snorts. “Would you let anyone else go?”
Prentiss shrugs. “Maybe. But Liv? Not a chance.”
Olivia looks at JJ and mouths, ‘She loves me.’ The blonde nods and mutters ‘disgusting’ back, making the two smile. Rossi and Morgan seem to be amused by the scene, smiling widely at them. Reid’s mind is just working, like it always does.
He jumps in before the moment gets too real, and Liv is thankful for that. “Actually, if they were at a spiritual retreat, it makes a lot of sense. The winter solstice is less than a week away. December 21st. It’s the longest night of the year, and a in lot of traditions it symbolizes transition. Death and rebirth, darkness into light. People are drawn to the symbolism. You see spikes in wellness retreats, meditation bookings, even breakups this time of the year…”
Olivia’s eyes flick to him. He’s talking fast, animated, hands moving in sync with every fact he throws out like they’re magic tricks. And she finds it weirdly hot.
What is happening to her? Since when does she like nerds?
She cuts in before her thoughts spiral further. “So what you’re saying is… hippies get seasonal.”
Reid opens his mouth, brow furrowed. “I mean, technically, yes, but…”
“Cool. Great talk.” Morgan cuts as well. He and Liv share a smile.
Prentiss smirks. “Still not letting you go.”
Olivia sighs loudly. “Mooooom.”
Hotch interrupts. “We’ll deliver the profile.”
The team starts gathering their files, ready to deliver the profile to the local PD and ranger units. Olivia uses the moment to slip out, muttering something about looking slightly less like she got chased by a squirrel gang.
She spends what feels like an eternity in the restroom, running fingers through her frizzing hair, trying to tame it with some water. She’s not content enough with the result, but she decides she can’t be gone much longer, so she fixes her posture, reapplies lip gloss and smooths the front of her blouse before heading out.
By the time she returns to the conference room, it’s quieter. Everyone must’ve gone to brief the officers already.
Except Reid.
He stands by the whiteboard, slightly off-center, flipping through the case file like he hasn’t read it six times already. His tie is slightly crooked, and his cardigan bunched weirdly under his blazer. Olivia pauses in the doorway for a second too long.
He looks up at the sound of her steps. “They just went down the hall. You didn’t miss it.”
“Good.” She says lightly, strolling in. “I would’ve hated the opportunity to traumatize more police officers.”
He smiles, boyish and soft. “Would’ve been a tragedy.”
She stops in front of him, gaze flicking to his tie. She steps forward and gently fixes it, hands swift but careful.
Olivia notices the way his shoulders stiffen, the way his breath catches just a little. Like he’s trying to keep his cool but failing spectacularly.
She tilts her head, teasing smile filling her lips. “Do I make you nervous, Doctor Reid?”
Reid blinks, eyes flickering from her hands to her face, like he’s calculating whether honesty is the right move. His voice is soft, breathy. “Not pathologically. Only in situations of close proximity.”
A quiet beat passes. Olivia feels her stomach flutter stupidly. She swallows it down with a smirk. “So most of the time, then?”
He exhales a short laugh, cheeks blooming pink. “Yeah… yeah, I guess you could say that.”
She finishes adjusting the tie, fingers lingering for a second longer than necessary. For a second, she thinks she might be forgetting how to breathe. She smiles lightly at him and forces herself to return to the rest of the group.
What the hell is happening to her?
She forces herself to normality before joining the team to give the profile. She doesn’t dare look at him. Unable to give herself the privilege of admitting she’s developing a stupid crush on Reid. It’s the worst thing that could’ve happened to her. She hasn’t even fully gotten over the marriage fiasco.
She’s so caught up in her feelings she doesn’t even realizes when the team finished until Prentiss lays her hands on her shoulders. “Stop thinking about him.” She whispers to her ear.
She nods.
Wrong him. She’s not thinking about Dean, she’s thinking about how illogical it is that she’s catching feelings for someone who rambles about winter solstice during murder investigations and blushes when she fixes his tie.
But there is no time for that.
She looks at the files again, forcing her brain to work until it starts doing it on its own. One of the unsubs is methodical, and it’s clearly more attached to whatever belief system they have. The other one enables it, which means he also believes in it, just not as religiously.
“Maybe they’re punishing the ones who don’t believe in his weird cult.” Olivia points, pulling her phone out and calling Penelope. “Penn, can you check if any of the victims leave the retreat early?”
The sound of her fingers aggressively writing in her keyboard fills the space for a moment. “That’s a lot of Zen-sounding nonsense to dig through, but I love challenges.” She pauses. “Okay. All seven victims were scheduled for a five-day stay. Three of them left on day three. Four of them left day four.”
“Why?” Morgan asks.
“It doesn’t say.” Garcia frowns. “They signed exit waivers. No explanation.”
Liv’s jaw clenches. She taps the file again, fingers moving as if they can force something new to appear on the page. Her brain is starting to do the thing it does. Click into place. The puzzle starts solving itself in her mind.
“Hey Reid.” She looks up at him. The whole team looks at her. “Is it just me, or do women who share beliefs seem to adhere to them more rigidly than men?” I remember my grandma forcing my grandpa to go to Mass even though they were both Catholic. And I think I once read something along the lines.”
Reid blinks, caught slightly off guard, but she can almost see the way his brain starts spinning almost instantly.
“Studies in religious psychology suggest that women tend to express their beliefs more devoutly and consistently than men.” He says, voice steady. “Part of it could be due to social expectations and the way religiosity is tied to gender roles. And, uh…” his eyes flicker to hers for a moment. “There is also evidence that women are more likely to seek emotional and community support through religion.”
Liv nods. Morgan frowns a bit. “So what are you saying, pretty girl? Are we dealing with a couple?”
“One of the unsubs is a woman. She’s the one who follows the ceremonies religiously. She’s the one who’s extracting the energy for the two of them. She doesn’t kill the victims, just cuts them. Her partner is the sadistic one, she didn’t know it before. Maybe he didn’t either. But now she’s complicit because if she tries to stop him…”
“She’s afraid she’ll become the next victim.” Prentiss finishes slowly.
“She probably didn’t know he was one. Maybe he didn’t either.” Olivia points.
Rossi lets out a low whistle. “That’s VICAP’s mind.” He mutters with a smirk. “No wonder they’re fighting to get her back.”
Hotch nods slowly, thoughtfully before talking. “We need to find out who at the Solaris retreat marches the profile. Someone obsessed with ritual and purity, someone who blends in but has violent tendencies underneath.”
Garcia’s voice crackles back through.
“Oh boy. You’re not going to like this. There is a couple who have been at the retreat the longest. The woman went two months ago, stayed a week. Then she checked in with her husband. They have been there for about a month now.”
“Sounds like our couple.” Morgan crosses his arms over his chest.
“It gets worse. Her records show she was baptized and had her first communion in the Catholic church, nothing wrong with that until you dig deep into the church she was raised in and find out the priest got convicted for raping more than twenty-five altar boys in the course of thirty years. Guess who was an altar girl around that time.”
The room falls silent. Garcia’s words settling like a storm cloud over the team.
“Jesus.” Morgan mutters under his breath, dragging his hand over his mouth.
Olivia’s eyes soften with something almost like pity. “Her name is Marian Sloane. Husband is Paul Sloane. Looks like he did time for assault in his twenties. Sealed juvie record before that.”
“There’s our sadist.” Morgan growls.
“And she’s the believer. She thought the retreats purified her after what she went through.” Olivia nods.
“I want them in custody.” Hotch instructs.
The following hours are a mess. The BAU doesn’t come close to the cult. Olivia wonders what the hell happened the last time they had a case with a cult for them to be so wary about them. Still, she obeys, staying in the Police Department, pacing around the conference room until they hear the sirens approaching back.
The police bring a weeping woman, so distressed Olivia’s heart aches. She keeps saying things like ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘It wasn’t supposed to go like this.’ While her husband kept shutting her and trying to fight the police.
They didn’t even need an interrogation for her to confess. Putting an end to the case.
The air is still heavy when they jump into the jet and fly back to Virginia.
“Well. That was charming. Religious trauma, power play, co-dependent delusion. All packed in a retreat package.” Rossi comments.
“Don’t forget the high heel hiking.” Olivia snorts.
“You just closed your first BAU case. Officially, pretty girl.” Morgan grins from across the aisle.
Hotch turns from his seat. A rare flicker of pride in his voice. “Welcome to the team, Agent Ortiz.”
Liv smiles at them. She is proud. She had worked her first case as a member of the BAU, as someone they considered valuable on the team and actually wanted there. She fights the urge to cry, getting her iPad and entertaining herself in any way she can.
Passed the first hour, she notices everyone asleep. Except Reid, who’s playing solitaire silently. She stands up from her place and approaches him. He raises his stare at her.
“Hi.” She sits across from him.
“Hi.” He responds sweetly.
She has been thinking about the holidays a lot. About her family, about eating her mom’s food and her nieces opening the gifts first thing in the morning. She has been thinking about JJ’s family and how they’re flying to Louisiana. About Prentiss mention of going to see her mom in London, even if it meant stiff formality and backhanded compliments. Morgan has been talking about eating his weight in pie and working it off in the gym by New Year’s after going to Chicago to be with his sisters and mother.
And Hotch… He hadn’t said much. But he doesn’t say much in any situation. Liv assumed he’d be back with Jack. He always was, in the quiet, careful way he protected what mattered.
Her gaze settles on Reid.
She knows the basics about him. JJ had mentioned something along the lines of his mother being in a mental hospital, about her being unstable. She supposed he didn’t have anyone to spend the holidays with.
That made her heart ache.
“What?” Reid asks, dim smile on his lips.
She swallows.
“My family is coming to Virginia for Christmas.” She says softly. “My parents, my three siblings, my brother-in-law and their kids. It’s going to be loud and chaotic, and there will probably be too much food and not enough chairs. And my apartment might catch on fire.”
He smiles faintly, the corners of his mouth twitching up.
She hesitates, but keeps going. “If you don’t have any plans. And you want, of course. You can join us.”
Reid blinks, as if surprised.
“But if you have any plans, forget I said anything.”
She doesn’t think he has any plans, but she fears that if she says it, he might get offended, so she just lets the proposition hang in the air. The idea of Reid being alone with a book in his hands while she laughs with her family makes her sad.
“I haven’t spent Christmas with a family in a long time.” He says eventually. “Sometimes I just stay and read, or work. Or volunteer somewhere.” He fidgets slightly with the cards in his hand. Like he’s not used to talking about this. “It’s easier than feeling like I’m intruding.”
Olivia tilts her head. “You wouldn’t be intruding.” She says quickly. “I’m inviting you. And honestly, my niece would love you. She’s into science and books and weird trivia and dinosaurs. She loves dinosaurs.”
He smiles again, softly, and a little stunned. Like the doesn’t quite know what to do with being wanted.
“She doesn’t speak English, but I’ll translate as much as I can.” Liv continues nervously.
“Are you sure?” He asks, still unsure.
“It’s only if you want. If you don’t, I won’t get mad. Although I will.” She smiles. “But only a little. Quietly. In the corner. While hugging my pillow.”
That makes him laugh, just a breath of it, short and genuine. He looks down at the cards, then back up at her.
“Okay.” He says. “I’d like that.”
Her heart swells. She hadn’t realized how much she wanted him to say yes until now.
“Cool.” She replies, trying to sound casual, even though her smile is practically glowing. “I’ll text you the address. Oh, and bring stretchy pants, obviously. But also something cute to wear.
He blinks. “Cute?”
“It’s Christmas in a Mexican house. We dress up.” She says with mock seriousness. “Think sparkles, sequins, heels. If you show up in a sweater vest, I won’t open the door. Lovingly, maybe I’ll have my mom pack you some food and throw it out the window.”
He laughs, really laughs this time. “Noted. Formal. I’ll see what I can do.”
A silence settles between them again, but this one is soft and full of warmth. Of belonging. She stands, her heart ten pounds lighter.
“Okay.” She smiles and heads back to her seat and her tablet and her silly game.
Chapter 6
Notes:
Enjoy the girls mocking Reid.
I would say the song for this chapter is Enchanted by Taylor Swift.
Word count: 2901 words
Chapter Text
“So how was it?” JJ asks.
Reid smiles lightly. The same day Liv invited him back on the jet, he had come home to take an intensive course of Spanish that he finished three days later.
He took a moment to remember everything. He was nervous as hell before the dinner. Spent at least an hour in a store, debating whether taking a bottle of tequila or a red wine. Worried about coming off the wrong way, he bought the red wine.
He remembered the noise he could hear from outside the house before knocking. How Liv opened the door with a huge smile. Like sunrise, he hadn’t known he needed before that. How she introduced him to the whole family, and everyone was so attentive to him. He enrolled immediately in a babysitting session with one of Liv’s nieces’ toy babies. Purposely mishandling the plastic doll and making the little girl giggle while correcting him with the sharpness only a kid could. Olivia scolded him slightly, telling him not to teach her to put the baby in the dishwasher when there was an actual baby in the house. He just laughed, and she did as well.
He pretended not to notice when that same little girl tugged Liv’s dress and asked her, in the middle of dinner, if she was going to marry him. And he also pretended not to hear when she climbed onto the couch next to him later and asked, in the sweetest Spanish, if he liked her aunt. He had smiled and kept playing with the doll, saying nothing until she went to ask her dad how to translate the question and her dad had lightly reprimanded her for being nosy. He didn’t respond, but yes. Yes, he did.
He thought about how he ate so much he was sure he was going to explode but didn’t dare tell Olivia’s mom that he wasn’t sure he wanted tres leches as a dessert. So he ate a piece as well. And loved it.
Olivia’s personality with her family was completely different. Seeing them with her siblings was like watching her in her natural habitat. Ten times louder and quick-witted, tossing playful jabs and taking them right back with laughter that made the room feel fuller. He didn’t say much. He didn’t need to. Watching her like that felt like discovering a part of her he hadn’t even realized he was curious about. It was like a privilege.
They invited him to watch a movie, a tradition that, apparently, Liv and her sister started back when they were in high school. Where they would stay up late and watch movie after movie until they were actually falling asleep.
Reid joined them, sitting next to her, with one of the girls curled up between them and sleeping soundly against his arm. Olivia kept shooting him occasional glances, asking him if he was okay and telling him that if he wanted to leave, he could.
But he was more than okay. And he didn’t want to leave.
There was a moment between the second and third movie, when the only sounds in the room were soft breaths and fading dialogue that Reid looked around and felt it deep in his chest. The laughter, the closeness, the way Olivia’s head tilted toward her sister, the way the little girl trusted him enough to fall asleep against his side.
The little girl began to snore softly, which made everyone, including him, laugh.
He thought. ‘How could Dean have a place reserved in this family and still throw it all way?’
Reid would’ve done anything to come back. To be welcomed like this. To be wanted.
He said yes to his family’s invitation for the “recalentado” the following day. Liv walked him to his car, and he had thought a lot about kissing her. He was about to until he saw the curtains moving and three pairs of eyes looking at them. He figured her family would poke her if he kissed her, and she didn’t want her to go through it. Instead, Liv hugged him tightly, and he felt his heart come alive.
Next day he was there. He had to call Liv beforehand to ask her if he had to wear formal attire for the recalentado as well. She laughed and told him no, so he dressed casually. He found Olivia’s brother, an architect, building a gingerbread house. He invited him, and he accepted.
They discussed tensile strength and rood pitch ratios. Olivia rolled her eyes, muttering something about them having a nerd-off. He laughed at it. Both of her parents eventually talked to him about everything. They’re scientists, and he loved how they could keep Reid’s pace. She kept coming back to check on him, like expecting to find him tied up with ribbon or something.
He also joined them on New Year’s Eve.
He’d been invited before the recalentado even finished.
Olivia’s mom had said it like it was the most natural thing in the world. That of course he’d come again, that he should stop by early to help set up the lights on the patio. Her nieces lit up. Her sister nodded approvingly. And Olivia commented something along the lines of not knowing if he had a plan for New Year’s eve.
He didn’t.
And just like that, it was settled.
Liv had told him to be there at seven, so he showed up at six fifty-five. He waited in his car for five minutes before knocking. Liv received him with her makeup half done and her hair put up in a messy bun. Telling him something about latin impuntuality and working based on vibes and traffic. Reid spent half an hour in the living room with Liv’s baby niece, who made it clear she would cry if Reid ignored her.
He played lotería, even though he still needed Liv to translate half the cards. Someone handed him a party hat, and the little girl made him year huge glasses that didn’t let him see anything. He watched Olivia carrying her niece as the countdown started. She looked like she belonged to all. And somehow, impossibly, he felt like he belonged as well.
“So…” JJ voice carries him out of his memories. “How was it?”
Reid blinks and shrugs, smiling softly. “Nice.”
She leans closer to him. “So when are you asking her out?” She asks and he scoffs.
“Never.” He responds.
“Spence!”
Reid glanced down, fiddling with the edge of his shirt. “I’m… not really her type. She clearly likes muscular guys. You know, confident, strong. And I’m not that.” He lets out a soft, almost embarrassed chuckle. “I mean, I have the biggest crush on her, but I don’t think it’s enough.”
JJ’s expression softened; her voice gentle but firm. “Reid, you’re way too smart and thoughtful to just write yourself off like that. You think Olivia’s only into the ‘muscular, confident guy’ cliché? You saw her family, the way they welcomed you. That means something.”
He looked up at her, uncertainty still lingering in his eyes.
“And honestly,” JJ continues, “if you don’t ask her out, someone else will. You’re wasting time.”
Reid smiles, the corners of his mouth twitching in quiet gratitude. “I’ll think about it.” He stands up, taking his coffee back to his desk.
JJ nudged him playfully. “No. You’re going to do it. I’m holding to that.”
Back at his desk, everything felt like it had snapped back to its usual rhythm, case files, coffee and sarcastic banter echoing off the bullpen walls. It was one of those rare lulls at the BAU, paperwork half-finished, coffee cups refilled, and a quiet hum of conversation filling the space.
JJ leaned on the edge of Olivia’s desk, her voice light but curious. “So, Liv. Serious question. What’s your type?”
Olivia tilted her head as she took a sip from her water bottle, already sensing danger.
Before she could answer, Prentiss chimes in without missing a beat. “Incompetents.”
Morgan follows with a chuckle. “Men who don’t deserve her.”
“Emotionally stunted manchilds.” Garcia spins in her chair, waiting for something to do.
Rossi flips a page in his file, murmuring. “Losers with charm.”
Olivia freezes mid-sip, slowly lowering her bottle and staring at all of them.
“Wow.” She says flatly. “Now you’re making me feel bad.” She sets her bottle down and deadpanned. “The correct answer is emotionally unavailable jerks.”
A wave of laughter rolls through the bullpen.
Olivia looks at the group with a huge smile. That makes Reid’s heart almost stop.
“We never asked you how were the holidays, pretty girl.”
Liv shakes her head. “My parents had never seen me with such disappointment in their eyes as the time Spencer told them he has three PhD and he’s only three years older than me. I swear they wanted to adopt him.”
The table erupts in laughter.
Garcia fans herself. “Spencer Reid, stealing hearts and parents since the womb.”
Morgan smirks, nudging Reid’s shoulder. “And here I thought I was the charming one.”
Reid feels his cheeks creep into a pink shade. He glances at Olivia. She’s still smiling, and that’s all he can focus on. They’re still laughing over Olivia’s Holiday horror story when a voice calls from the bullpen.
“Beliv!”
Olivia’s head snaps up. “That’s me. I’m Beliv.” She smiles.
A tall, scruffy blond guy in jeans and a VICAP windbreaker strolls in like he owns the place. “Knew I’d find you here.” He says, grin wide.
“Where I work? Must’ve been a surprise.” She giggles. Stepping close to him, he catches her in a hug that lifts her clean off the floor.
“How are you, gorgeous?”
“Great until you stepped in.” She says without shaking her huge grin.
“Always so charming.” He responds, same irony.
Spencer watches how they engage in a weird, elaborate, ridiculous handshake that has her laughing. The crease between his brows growing bigger by the moment.
“Hi, Jennifer. I love your hair.” He smiles, and JJ smiles back.
“Thank you, JJ.” She laughs.
“JJ?” Reid asks.
“Jeremy Jonas. VICAP. They have been working together for years… well, until she started in the BAU.” JJ explains. “He’s cool.”
“Cool.” Spencer echoes, though he sounds like he’s trying to convince himself.
Garcia eyes Reid.
“Sorry to interrupt.” Jeremy says, resting his hand’s in Liv’s shoulders. “Beliv, you got a minute? We got something weird out of West Virginia, and I thought of you immediately. It’s messy and possibly feral, so…”
“So I’d love it?” She tilted her head with a smile.
“Exactly.” Jeremy grins.
She turns back to the team, grabbing her coat. “I’ll be back in a moment. If you need anything, call me.” She warns.
“I don’t promise to bring her back. I’ve been thinking about kidnapping her back to VICAP.”
Olivia rolls her eyes with a playful scoff. “You wish. My team feeds me and tolerates my dramatics. VICAP never stood a chance.”
Jeremy clutches his chest. “Ouch, right in the heart, Beliv.”
As they walk off, still bickering like twins separated at birth, Spencer watches them go, his jaw tight. Jeremy leans and says something that makes her laugh again, louder this time. The kind of laugh that makes Reid’s chest tighten.
The elevator dings and closes on her smile.
JJ crosses her arms. “So are you going to keep letting her walk off with guys who call her ‘gorgeous’ or what?”
“He wants to kidnap her back to VICAP.” Prentiss supports JJ.
“And their babies would be blonde and blue eyed.” Penelope continues. “They would be such a cute couple.”
Prentiss crosses her arms, leaning back in her seat. “BAU and VICAP? They would be such a power couple.”
“Imagine them doing that handshake at their wedding. I would be crying.” Penelope places a hand on her chest.
Spencer’s eye twitches.
“They’re not a couple.” The words almost crumble in his throat.
JJ lifts a brow. “Yet.”
Garcia leans dramatically across her desk, all faux seriousness. “Spencer. Sweetie. Honeybee. Pretty genius boy. If you don’t say something soon, they’re going to end up kissing on top of an evidence board while comparing blood spatter patterns.”
“And that,” Prentiss cuts in. “is how VICAP wins.”
Spencer opens his mouth and then closes it. Not sure he has anything good to say. She looks a lot like the type he envisions for her. Someone clearly as social as she is. Who doesn’t slouch and doesn’t have his tie perpetually crooked. Who’s muscular enough to lift her and make her giggle in the air.
“They’re messing with you, kid.” Rossi stands up, holding his mug. “That’s the gayest man I’ve ever seen. And I served with Liberace’s makeup artist during Vietnam.”
The girls giggle across from him. Spencer frowns. “Wait, how could you know?”
“He noticed JJ’s new hair… whatever she got done. To me she looks the same but to a gay man?” He scoffs.
“I got bangs.” She points.
Reid looks at her and frowns. “You’ve always had bangs.”
Spencer stares after him, speechless, until JJ leans in close enough for him to hear.
“You do know everyone knows you like her, right?”
He blinks. Remembering Hotch and Rossi’s conversation back in his office. How they almost took Olivia off the group because they thought he was too distracted.
“Literally everyone.”
Garcia lifts a hand without looking away from her phone. “Confirmed.”
Prentiss raises her coffee. “I thought it was common knowledge.”
Morgan arrives back. Reid hadn’t even noticed when he left, probably too caught up in thoughts of Olivia and her friend. “What are we talking about? Reid’s crush on Liv?”
Spencer’s face goes crimson.
“I…”
“Spence.” JJ puts a hand over his. “It’s fine. You can like her.”
“You should do something about it.” Rossi says. “A girl like that,” He points to the elevator. “doesn’t stay single for long.”
Prentiss nods. Reid doesn’t dare say anything. He knows he’s right. Liv is not dating someone right now; it doesn’t mean she doesn’t have guys throwing themselves at her. She’s attractive, and intelligent and kind to everyone. Of course, she’s not single for long. He just doesn’t think he’s brave enough to ask her out.
Liv returns after what feels like an eternity later, but it’s actually less than an hour. He hears her laugh before he sees her. She’s laughing at something her VICAP friend says. The elevator door dings open, and she walks out. She doesn’t immediately acknowledge him, still immersed in a conversation that seems interesting enough for her to gasp and cover her mouth in surprise and giggle giddily at whatever gossip he was telling her.
When they finish. She hugs her, and they tell each other they should grab lunch more often.
She struts back into the office as if she had only been gone for five minutes.
She sits at her desk and continues her work naturally. Reid keeps glancing at her eventually, trying to come up with the words to ask her out. She takes another sip of her water bottle before realizing it’s empty. She stands up and walks towards the break room.
Spencer decides it might be the right moment. He takes his half empty coffee mug and follows her.
She’s filling her bottle distractedly. A couple of girls are chatting animatedly across the room, with coffee mugs in their hands and huge smiles decorating their faces. Spencer doesn’t think Olivia realizes it’s he who just stepped by her side to fill his coffee mug.
When she turns around and sees him standing there, she jumps.
“You just scared the living shit out of me, Spencer.” She places a hand on her chest.
“Sorry.” He smiles. “I didn’t mean to. I just… I was getting more coffee.” He gestures vaguely to his already half-full mug like it explains everything.
Olivia cocks an eyebrow. “How many of those have you had today?” She nods towards the coffee.
“That’s… unimportant.” He responds, his cheeks tinting pink.
Her smile grows wider. She giggles softly.
Spencer fiddles with the handle of his mug. Swallowing hard before blurting out. “So… uh… I was wondering if maybe… If you’re free this weekend… we could, um… go out? Like, not work-related. Just us.” He smiles softly. Not as proud of his performance, but resigned to it. His eyes hopeful but uncertain.
Olivia tilts her head, glossy lips forming one of those beautiful smiles that drive him crazy. “Are you asking me on a date, Doctor Reid?”
He blinks, cheeks flushing deeper. “Y-yes. Yes, I am.”
She laughs gently, for a moment Reid believes it’s at him. “Well, then.” She leans casually against the counter. “I’d love to go out with you.” The warmth of her voice makes his heart speed up.
Relief and joy flood him all at once, and his smile nearly breaks his face.
“Saturday, then?”
“Will you pick me up?” She asks, with a playful glint in her eye.
Spencer’s face flushes hotter, but he nods quickly. “Absolutely.”
“All right.” She smiles, walking back to the bullpen.
He stood there for a long moment, smiling like an idiot. Not even realizing his coffee was done and that the girls gossiping had already left. He just stays there thinking what place is good enough to take Olivia, so she doesn’t go out running as soon as she can.
Chapter 7
Notes:
Almost ten thousand words, that feels illegal. I really have to turn myself off.
I got the inspo for this chapter listening to I hate Boston by Reneé Rapp, so that's obviously the song.
WC: 9346 words (literally how?)
Chapter Text
Olivia shuffled her hair nervously in front of the mirror. It had been so long since the last time she went on a first date. Damn. There was a moment just some months ago that she thought she’d never go on a first date ever again.
But now she was excited. Really excited.
She loves surprises, and Spencer hadn’t told her anything about the date. She takes a step back, smoothing the fabric of her turtleneck black dress down her sides. It hugged her frame just right. Tasteful, a little flirty but safe. She looks like someone going on a date, but not like she was trying too hard. She didn’t want to look like sex was on the table. Although it might be.
Her heart was in her throat.
It felt nice.
Terrifying, but nice.
She picks up her phone to text ‘I’m ready when you are’ when it buzzed in her hand.
The name Hotch glowing on the screen.
She stared at the name for a second, reluctant to answer. She knew Hotch wouldn’t call her just to say hi. It wasn’t casual.
She swiped. “Hotch?”
“Ortiz, I need you on the jet in an hour. Pack for at least three days. We’ll brief on the way.”
She blinks. “I thought we were off rotation.”
“Boston PD just found four bodies in two days. It’s a mess. I’m pulling the team in early.”
Her stomach dropped. “Right. I’ll be there.”
She hung up and stared blankly at the dress reflected in the mirror. She had a text from Spencer she missed.
Spencer: On my way to pick you up :)
She closed her eyes.
“Fuckass Boston.” She whispers to herself.
She stares at the screen for a long moment, then starts pulling her go bag from under the bed.
The dress went back on its hanger.
The heels swapped for boots.
And just like that, the afternoon she almost had was gone. She grabbed her keys and got out of her apartment. Paying Reid a call as she drives.
“I supposed you heard the great news?” She says the moment he picks up.
Spencer exhales a soft laugh. “Yeah. Hotch knocked on my door. Except instead of salvation, he offered Boston in January.”
Despite herself, Olivia chuckles, eyes flicking up to the rearview mirror.
“I was halfway to your place.”
There is a pause. He doesn’t say ‘I was excited’, but she hears it anyway.
“Rain check?” Reid asks, and Liv blinks. Looking at the sky for a moment.
“No, it’s not raining here. Is it in Quantico? I didn’t bring an umbrella.”
He laughs softly on the other end, and she can hear him smile. “It’s a date postponement, Liv. Not a weather report.”
“Oh.” She chuckles. “American slang.”
“It’s actually baseball slang.”
She chuckles. “Of course it is.”
They fall into what feels like an eternal silence. Olivia feels like this is somehow worse than a bad date.
“Are you going to tell me now what had you planned?” She forces a smile.
“Nah, I’m recycling it.” He responds, making her giggle. “Gotta be environmentally responsible with great ideas.”
Her smile grows wider. “So it was a good idea.”
“I only have those.” He draws it out, teasing. “You might’ve said yes to a second date.”
“Oh, I’m sure of that.” She chuckles as she switches lanes. “I need a little music to concentrate. I’ll see you later.”
“I can sing.” He offers, drawing a laugh out of her.
“I think I rather live.” She stops at a red light. “Talk soon?”
“Drive carefully, Liv.” He says, and she smiles.
“I’ll consider it.” She responds before hanging out.
She blasts her playlist, desperately trying to get her spirits up. It kind of works, by the third Bad Bunny song, she’s mouthing the words while moving her body. Which is good because for just one moment, the lingering ache of a missed date goes away-
She moves her head side to side, trying to release tension as she walks into the jet holding only her go bag. Morgan, JJ and Prentiss raise their stares at her.
“Damn, pretty girl. You look like a guy was going to get lucky.” Morgan comments.
“With my presence? Yes.” She places the bag on top of the seat before sitting next to Emily. “I was going on a date.”
“A date?” JJ asks, a pointed look and a blonde raised eyebrow.
“A date.” Olivia confirms, leaning back on her seat.
“With a tall dorky guy who talks a lot?” Morgan crosses his arms on his chest.
“Doesn’t ring a bell.” Liv turns on her tablet, opening the silly game that keeps her entertained through the flies.
“Aren’t you going to tell me?” Prentiss whispers against her ear.
“I was giving Dean a second chance.” She lies. Prentiss knows it.
“I would skin you alive. I don’t love you enough to tolerate those stupid decisions.” She responds, and Olivia giggles.
“We would put you down before allowing that.” Derek adds.
“And we’re serious about it.” JJ nods and Liv smiles.
Rossi and Hotch step onto the jet, files in hand and grim expressions on their faces. They talk briefly about the case. The killer is striking every twelve hours. Victims of convenience that he finds in parks and public places. Reid walks in during the discussion.
“You’re late.” Hotch comments.
“I was grocery shopping. I had to go back home and feed my fish and pack my things.” He responds, taking a seat across from Olivia, next to Morgan. “Please continue.”
Olivia raises her stare from the file just enough for their eyes to meet for the briefest of moments. He gives her the smallest of smiles. Not regret. Not quite reassurance. Something in between.
But something is enough for Olivia.
She squares her shoulders and forces herself to focus on the case. They keep discussing it for the next two hours. Analyzing everything from MO to victimology. Realizing that the attacks seem too violent to be just victims of convenience.
Olivia takes a deep breath as she enters the police department. Hotch doesn’t have time to introduce them to the detective when her eyes meet Olivia’s and she feels like the world is ending.
“Olivia, darling. Is so good to see you. What are you doing here?” Miss Abati asks.
Olivia blinks. Dean’s mom. Of course she has this luck. Dean had told her his mom had been recently promoted to detective. And he was born and raised in Boston. She has to gather herself quickly, and when she does. She’s already in her ex mother-in-law arms.
“Hi.” She says softly.
“You can take a seat there. Give me a second. The FBI is here…” She says, holding her face. “You look skinny, have you been eating?”
“Umh…” She looks at her team, who couldn’t look more confused. “Miss Abati?”
“I’m so glad you’re here. Dean hasn’t been himself lately. He really misses you. Oh, why won’t you give him another chance? What he did was awful, but he loves you very much.” She continued.
Morgan and Rossi exchange a look. JJ has an arched brow. Reid doesn’t move, but he blinks two times before lowering his gaze to the file in his hands. Hotch doesn’t say anything although she’s sending him a thousand mental signals for him to please do something. Anything.
“Umh. I’m here with the FBI.” She says, gathering herself together.
Miss Abati laughs. “She’s always so funny.” She tells the team. “I really need to discuss stuff with the BAU, but give me a second, darling.”
Olivia clears her throat politely. Wishing that the earth would just open a hole and swallow her completely. As that doesn’t happen, she speaks again. “No, I’m with the FBI. I’m a federal agent.”
Dean’s mom blinks in confusion. “But you’re a Spanish teacher. Dean told me that. You work at a high school.”
Olivia’s brows twitch, and she notices the rest of the team look at each other, clearly puzzled. “Detective Abati.” He breaks in. “Agent Ortiz is with us. She’s a consultant with the Behavioral Analysis Unit. We’d appreciate if we could speak privately about the case.”
“You’re not a Spanish teacher.” She looks at Liv.
“I’ve never been.” She shakes her head.
The detective nods one time, as if a cold bucket of water just fell over her. “Right. The case…” She continues. JJ and Hotch follow her while the rest of the group stays a little behind.
“A cheater lying to his mom? It must’ve been a big surprise.” Emily says ironically.
“You look like you need a drink.” Rossi comments, Olivia’s brows raise and she nods slowly.
“This whole family is making me borderline alcoholic.”
Reid tilts his head, his voice calm but laced with the usual blend of facts and passive-aggressiveness. “You know, the term borderline is kind of misleading. Borderline implies you’re close to meeting the diagnostic criteria, but not quite there. The DSM-5 doesn’t technically use that term anymore. Clinically speaking, if you’re drinking as a coping mechanism more days than not, especially in response to stress. It already qualifies as alcohol use disorder, mild to moderate.” He glances up with a blink. “So I’m pretty sure you already qualify as an alcoholic.”
Olivia rolls her eyes hard enough to see her brain, but scoffs and a tired smile pulls at her lips. “Thanks, Reid. That helps.”
“Anytime.” He says with a soft smile.
She looks at the alley where they went. “I fucking hate Boston.” She whispers before following her two teammates.
She takes a seat next to JJ and Prentiss. The latter holds her hand as if the world was going to end if she dropped it. Liv couldn’t be more grateful for her. She can feel the weight of Detective Abati stare in her, and the whole room feels incredibly heavy with tension. JJ excuses herself shortly after to go talk to the victim’s families.
“It’s overkill.” Liv crosses her arms, leaning back in her seat. “You don’t stab someone fifteen times you’re killing out of convenience. The unsub is hunting these people. Mocking them by killing them in the most public spaces she can.”
“But how does the unsub get out of the places without being noticed?” Prentiss glares at the file. “You can’t you stab someone twenty times in a bar bathroom and not go out all bloody.”
“If the lights are low, you can.” Olivia adds. “There are ten drunk bitches in a bar bathroom too busy crying because their exes cheated. No pun intended.”
JJ shifts uncomfortably in her seat. Both Reid and Morgan are containing a smirk.
“So she kills someone every twelve hours. Do you think here is some symbolism there?” Detective Witherspoon asks, still looking at her as if she were a ghost.
Reid perks up immediately at the mention of the number, eyes lighting up like someone just handed him a present. “Actually, the number twelve is incredibly significant across multiple cultures and fields of study. There are twelve months in a year, twelve zodiac signs, twelve labors of Hercules…”
Olivia tilts her head as Reid talks. He’s clearly passionate about everything he talks about, but sometimes she felt like her brain couldn’t process most of the things the man said.
“and in numerology, twelve often represents completeness or cosmic order.” Reid continues, undeterred. “The number appears frequently in religious texts too. In Christianity, for instance, there are twelve apostles…”
“Reid.” Hotch cuts him.
Liv sighs. “How can I say that I don’t think this unsub is smart enough to give the number an actual symbolism without sounding rude?”
“I think you just did.” Prentiss smiles. “But I think you’re right. The twelve hours in the middle is the unsub getting ready to kill again. Bracing herself to do it.”
“Maybe stalking the victims.” Derek says. “They’re not victims of convenience but the places might be convenient for the unsub.”
Rossi looks at the whiteboard in front of him. “So she just kills every twelve hours out of habit?”
“Maybe she isn’t even aware of the schedules. She kills when it feels right.” Rossi points and Liv nods.
“But we still don’t know how she finds her victims. There must be a correlation somewhere. Some kind of personal deal. High-schools bullies?”
“Are you really this petty to hold a grudge to the point of killing someone?” Rossi asks her. Liv raises her brows and takes a sip of her water bottle.
“You’re asking that to the worst person possible, David.” She shakes her head.
He smiles dimly. Hotch intervenes. “Garcia fact-checked them. No correlation between them. Different ages, high schools, two of them weren’t even from Boston. Whatever correlation they have is off sight.”
“Social media?” Liv raises a brow.
“You think someone might kill them because of their social media usage?” Morgan asks her, and Liv shrugs.
“We can’t discard any leads if we don’t have any.”
Hotch pulls out his phone. “Garcia, get everything you can on the victim’s social media activity. Look for overlaps. Pages they followed, posts they interacted with, comment sections they were active on. Anything that links them digitally.”
“Oh, that might take a while. On it, sir.” She’s already typing before she finishes the sentence.
Detective Abati excuses herself. Liv closes her eyes, feeling like she can finally breathe for the first time since this case started. It’s not that she hated his family. They had never mistreated her in any kind. When she flew to Boston with Dean for the first time, they received her with Taco Bell so she could eat something that reminded her of home.
It was borderline offensive, but she understood they did it out of good spirit. She had always been amazing to Liv, and that made it even worse. Breaking up with him, she was also breaking up with his family.
“Are you okay?” Reid asks her from across the room.
“I wouldn’t have brought you if I had known.” Hotch tells her, and she nods.
“I didn’t know either.” Liv leans back in her seat. “It’s too much to think. I’m kind of overwhelmed.” She smiles a little. “The problem is that she’s for sure telling him I’m here. So if my ex comes here and makes a scene, don’t fire me, please.”
“I would like to think he’s smarter than to appear here.” Prentiss scoffs.
“I would like to bet he wouldn’t survive if he appeared here.” Reid deadpans.
“I still haven’t forgotten that he hit me.” Derek says, making Liv laugh.
Rossi frowns a bit. “When did this happen?”
“Long story.” Liv shakes her head. Just as Detective Abati walks into the room holding a mug.
“I remember chamomile relaxes you.” She says, bringing the tea closer to her. Liv raises her brows, receiving it with the softest of smiles. “We don’t have lemon here, but I added a bunch of honey.”
“Thank you, that’s really nice.” Liv responds.
Liv can feel the room shift the moment she takes the mug. Not because anyone said anything but because Reid got somehow quieter. With a particular, clipped kind of quiet that told her something isn’t sitting right with him. She holds the tea in both hands, smiling politely at the detective.
“I just put coffee too. It’s just that this one doesn’t drink caffeine.” She smiles, looking at Liv in a soft, affectionate way.
There it was again. The subtle familiarity that kept making her remember they’re not strangers.
She had a life planned with her son. And even though she had been comprehensive when Liv called her and told her she had found her son in bed with someone else and would have to call out the wedding. Tears falling heavily on her cheeks, air lacking in her lungs and head throbbing because every time she thought she couldn’t cry more, she did.
Liv notices the way Reid clenches his jaw.
Hotch’s phone rings on the table. “Garcia.”
“All right, my lovely crime fighters. All of our victims had liked, commented or published some kind of form of hate or negative criticism of the group ‘Love Today’. A boyband whose public is majoritarian women.”
“So our unsub is an obsessive fan.” Liv nods. “God, I’m good at this. I should become a psychic.”
“You should make a career out of profiling criminals.” Morgan jokes and Liv scrunches her nose.
“Boring.”
“Garcia, is there any way you can find how the unsub finds them?” Prentiss steps in.
“All of them have hated to the group from their public accounts, and they’re very active posting about their lives. Other than that, no idea.” Garcia responds.
“So we still have nothing.” Rossi raises a brow.
“It’s going to be impossible to predict who’s the next victim,” Liv shakes her head. “This kind of group receives hundreds of thousands of hate comments.”
“How do you know?” Prentiss raises a brow.
“I was on Twitter since I was thirteen years old, and I was a huge fan of One Direction. Trust me. My digital footprint has been forever ruined.”
Morgan leans back in his chair, with a mock brow. “So we’re dealing with someone like you?”
Liv gasps, hand to her chest in mock offense. “First and foremost. There is no one like me.” She says and grins. “I had three hundred thousand followers. I was God to unemployed thirteen-years old.”
“Thirteen years old aren’t legally allowed to work.” Reid points.
“You are ruining my vibe, Spencer.” She raises a hand to block her sight of him. “But yes. That’s why they had time to make me famous.”
“At least that kind of obsession gives insight.” Hotch notes, attention fully back on her.
“I don’t know now. But back in my day. We had everything. Burner accounts, spreadsheets, group chats, VPNs, reddit threads. They catalog everything. Who hates, who loves, who switches sides. They know their enemies. And they hold grudges like no one.”
“Do you?” Rossi asks.
“I like to think I’ve matured out of it.” Liv puts her hair behind her shoulders. “But I still don’t listen to any artist who wronged the band, so do with that information what you will.”
“I’m so into your digital footprint now.” Penelope confesses with a fascinated tone, and Liv smiles.
“You’re going to have a field day.”
The room falls into a brief silence, it cannot swallow down the weight of the case. Prentiss was the first to shift, standing with her arms crossed as she looks back at the board, where pictures of the victims stare back. Young, diverse, all active online. All aloud about their opinions. Olivia drinks a sip of her tea, marveling herself in the known taste.
When she looks up again, she meets Reid’s stare, who looks away the moment their eyes catch.
“We still need a pattern.” Prentiss says. “Something beyond the hate. That’s too wide of a net.”
“The internet in general is too wide of a net.” She takes another sip of her tea. “But I happen to know how to think like a deranged fan. Something triggered this. Garcia, when did they drop their last song?”
“Umh…” The sound of keys invades the line. “Three weeks ago. Debuted at number one of the Hot 100.”
“How was the public reception of the song?” Liv crosses her arms, feeling like she dominates the narrative.
“Generally bad. People didn’t like it.”
“So how did it do so good?” Reid frowns.
“Compromise.” Liv responds. “Get anything you can on the members of the band, Garcia?”
“You don’t know about them?” Rossi smiles.
“I’ve changed my ways, David Rossi.” Liv crosses her arms.
“Okay. This is hardcore. One of the members of the team. Leroi Muscaves was recently accused of sexually harassing a sixteen-year-old fan. This happened three days ago.”
Olivia smiles. “There’s the detonator.”
“So the group is getting hatred because of the shitty song plus the rapist member. That would make anyone want to step away from the fanaticism.” Prentiss crosses her arms.
“Except these girls are not anyone.” Liv says. “To these girls, those boys are their lords and saviors. Nothing is going to get them to drop them. No matter what they do.” Liv points.
Hotch glances at her with a glint of interest. “You said they catalog everything. How can we find those lists?”
“Oh, we can’t.” She crosses her arms. “Most of it is in private chats, WhatsApp, iMessage, Twitter or Instagram. They have everything saved in their accounts. They have Google Docs with codenames only ten people on earth can access and five understand.”
“And you used to be one of those ten?” Rossi asks.
“Honey, I didn’t just ran with the wolves. I ran the goddamn pack.” Olivia smiles, unashamed.
Morgan stands and moves behind Liv, resting his hands on her shoulders. “I can’t decide if you’re helping crack the case or if I should be worried about how well you understand this.”
“You should be thankful I’m with the FBI. If I weren’t with you, I would be against you.”
“So we know nothing about this girl and everything at the same time.” Prentiss crosses her arms.
Reid, who has been unusually quiet, suddenly speaks up. Not loudly, but quickly. The kid of speed that meant his brain had already traveled miles ahead of the conversation.
“Parasocial relationships can escalate to obsessive fan behavior due to several overlapping psychological and sociocultural factors.” He says, barely taking a breath. “There is something called identity fusion. A visceral sense of oneness with a group of individuals, in this case, the band. This results in an extreme alignment between the fan’s personal identity and the object of their admiration. When the identity is threatened, say, by criticism or scandal, forcing them to either detach, which risks an identity crisis, or to double down in protection of the figure they’ve attached themselves to.”
Everyone blinks. Liv stares at him.
She hates how hot she considers him to be when he gets all nerdy like that.
“And there is the reinforcement loop.” He continues. “These fan communities constantly validate and reinforce each other’s beliefs, which contributes to a heightened emotional commitment. That, combined with anonymity, add the performative nature of online spaces, can absolutely lead someone to rationalize violence. Especially if they already exhibit obsessive or delusional behaviour.”
“Wait.” Prentiss says. “You’re saying this unsub might actually believe they’re protecting the band by doing this?”
“Absolutely.” Reid nods. “In their minds, they’re punishing betrayal. They believe they’re enacting justice.”
Liv pushes off the desk. All traces of amusement gone from her face. “She’s not just keeping tabs. She’s running a godamn tribunal.”
“And executing the verdict.” Reid finishes.
“God.” Liv leans back. “Good thing my mom took my phone when she did and I forgot the password of that account.”
The humor in the room doesn’t lift up.
This is sneaky and out of the wild and secretive all at once.
It’s at the reach of Garcia’s keyboard but so far away. There must be thousands of potential next victims. There must be hundreds of girls who fit the profile in the city. They were hitting the ten-hour mark, and Olivia thought the whole team knew what it meant. There is no way they’re making it on time.
Olivia feels her head throbbing. She wasn’t prepared to pull an all-nighter. Now, at ten pm, they had to work as fast as possible to stop any potential victims. The team gathers around the police officers, dropping the profile and sending them to patrol everywhere they can.
Olivia paces around the briefing room, doing anything to keep herself awake. The team is everywhere else. All knowing the truth. There will be another victim, and they couldn’t stop it.
“How are you doing, honey?” Detective Abati approaches her.
“She already has someone picked.” Olivia says. “She’s probably watching her right now.”
Something claws in her chest. Maybe anxiety. Definitely rage.
“Olivia, there is nothing you can do about it.” Her ex mother-in-law assures her. “My guys will catch her. It’ll be all right.”
She hugs her. Olivia feels her heart stop before hugging her back. She knows she shouldn’t, but her arms result comforting in this moment. She had been the woman who paid for her wedding, who had to cancel everything about it. Had called off the caterers and sent back the dresses. Had apologized for her son’s betrayal like it has been her own mistake. Liv yearned for this family, even if she hated her son.
“You know. You’re like the daughter I never had.” She says, smothering Liv’s hair against her back.
“Please don’t tell me that.” She begs, voice breaking slightly.
“I was just so excited to have you in our family.” The woman holds her face in her hands. “To have a daughter. To eventually see you two form a family.” She smiles, more to herself.
Olivia understands she’s not the only one mourning the wedding that never happened. But that doesn’t make it any easier.
Olivia presses her lips together. “We should go back.”
Detective Abati looks at her one more time before heading out. Liv looks at Reid, who had been in the room the whole time. He’s just glaring at the whiteboard, jaw clenched. She doesn’t know how to talk to him. They weren’t supposed to be here today, but here they are, with the ghost of her failed relationship all over them.
He doesn’t say anything as they walk out of the room. It is so chilly Olivia wishes the next victim would just stay inside and away from the unsub. She sits next to JJ, who forces a small smile. She had spent the last hours talking to the family. Finding a lot of from their words.
The twelve-hour mark arrives, and Olivia’s stomach drops. The room is in total silence, with occasional calls from Garcia to try to get any lead.
Reid, Prentiss, Morgan, Rossi and Liv sit at the closest table, playing cards as they wait for something… anything. The hours roll in. They passed from poker to bullshit to a silly little game Liv had learned in college. At two fifteen in the morning, Detective Abati receives the call they had all been dreading.
“A body has been discovered in the gardens of Boston University. Stabbed twenty-five times. No camera footage.” She says.
Olivia doesn’t want to react. She knows she shouldn’t. Not here, in front of everyone. But the grief barrels through her anyway, the kind that’s been waiting and simmering, too many things happening all at once. She covers her face with her hands. Morgan places a supportive hand on her back, rubbing it eventually.
“Do we know anything about the victim?” Liv asks.
“Marcela Gomez. She’s a feminist podcaster. She uploaded a chapter criticizing the situation of Leroi Muscaves. Her roommate just found her in their college dorm, stabbed forty times.”
“Do you think the other girls in those groups you say know about the murders?” Morgan asks Liv, and she shakes her head.
“There is no way. She’s delusional, but the rest of them aren’t.” She places a hand on her forehead.
The room stays in a deep silence. “Well. We have ten hours left. Let’s go back to the hotel. Try to get some rest.” Hotch decides.
“We’re running out of time.” Olivia frowns.
Hotch looks at her, then the others. “Then we start again at first light. This stops now.”
The team is reluctant while picking up their things. Olivia lingers a moment, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Prentiss notices.
“We’ll get her.” She places a hand on her shoulder.
“I know.” She responds.
Olivia hops into the shower and cries a little. She removes her makeup and hops into bed, closing her eyes without even turning off the lights. She sleeps awfully, barely being able to close her eyes at all. At six thirty, Hotch is knocking on her door, telling her they’ll have breakfast at the police station.
She feels like a zombie. She knows they only have five hours to find the unsub. And in theory, it sounds completely doable. But even while checking every single security footage and going to all the crime scenes. They still have nothing. A woman in her twenties blends perfectly in every single one of the places.
Olivia tries her hardest to think of anything that can give them a lead about obsessive fans. They only have the profile and the anonymity of the internet. Hotch gets her chilaquiles for breakfast. Which sounds amazing, but she has no appetite at all.
“Did you sleep anything?” Reid asks her when she’s serving herself a cup of coffee. She shakes her head. “Yeah, I didn’t sleep much either.” He responds.
She takes a long sip of the coffee and grimaces at the sour taste. He hands her a couple of bags of sugar and cream, and she adds them all to her drink.
“I’ve spent hours searching stuff on Twitter, as if the unsub would just tweet ‘omg I just killed someone he he.’” She imitates the texting act with her hands. “Have I said I hate Boston?”
“Only like twenty times.” He smiles, walking her out of the kitchen with a mug in his hand as well.
“Not enough.” She mumbles as she takes another sip of the coffee.
There are long seconds between the moment she sips the coffee for the third time and her brain finally seams to work. She knows Reid notices because he frowns slightly, but she places a hand over her forearm and squeezes lightly.
“She’s under a delusion.” She says, and Reid nods. “Our unsub is delusional. Having vivid fantasies of protecting this artist.”
“Aha.”
“But delusions start somewhere.” She moves his arm. “Which means his team has probably acknowledged her before. A spark. An origin. Even if it was just a moment. It had to be real. Even just slightly.” She shakes his arm again, more insistently now.
“Liv, you’re scaring me.”
“Sorry.” She yanks her hand away. Dialing Garcia’s number quickly. “Where is my leading lady?”
“Your one and only?” Liv smiles. “How hot are you?”
“For you? Always.” Garcia responds, and Liv can hear the teasing smile in her tone.
“I am so uncomfortable right now.” Reid deadpans, making Liv laugh out loud.
“Can you please check if Leroi Muscaves has restraining orders against anyone? Repeat stalker complaints? Anything unofficial, too. Fan forums, incident reports. Anything where she might’ve just popped up on the radar?”
Garcia gasps. “Thirty restraining orders, Liv. Thirty. That man is either too charming or an absolute menace.”
“Maybe both.” Liv mutters, eyes flickering to Reid as she paces.
She remembers all of the sudden. Taylor Swift concert. A video of a security guard singing one of her songs had gone viral. The man couldn’t get tickets, so he applied to become a guard. She smiles.
“Any of them ever work as concert guards?”
There is a pause. Reid narrows his eyes. “What does that even mean?”
“Anyone can be a concert guard.” Liv says, spinning her tablet towards him as she pulled up images from tour archives. “You apply at the right time, right place. If the company’s desperate enough, they won’t dig deep. They just want warm bodies and black shirts.”
Garcia’s voice returns, now tinged with something new. Curiosity. “Okay, okay…. Okay! There is one. Melanie Clarion. Applied for a security subcontractor role during the “Crimson Skies” tour three years ago. Worked one show in… Boston, Massachusetts. That same night, a fan tried to jump onstage to hug him.”
Liv’s eyes went wide. She slaps Reid’s shoulders energetically several times in a sharp, caffeinated jolt. “That’s her. That has to be her. The moment. It started everything. He probably thank her, and she thought to herself, omg he needs me. That’s her, Reid.”
The door creaked open just then, and Hotch, JJ, Morgan and Rossi steps in, pausing mid-step as they took in Liv’s sudden burst of energy.
“Oh my God, I should drink coffee more often.” Liv says, holding her mug like it is a trophy. “It makes me so smart. My brain feels huge.”
Reid gave her a pointed look. “Please don’t.”
Rossi chuckles, folding his arms. “What did we miss, genius?”
Liv grinned, still buzzing. “We got a name. Melanie Clarion. She worked at security at one of the band’s concerts three years ago. The same night, a fan tried to jump onstage to hug guess who? Leroi Muscaves!” She leans back in her seat. “Bam! I’m a genius.”
Just then, the door swung open and Prentiss stepped in, her eyes instantly locking onto Liv’s jittery energy and wild grin. She folds her arms and asks with a teasing smile. “Who gave her coffee?”
Morgan chuckles from the corner. “Looks like Reid finally did.”
“I regret it so much.” Reid takes a sip of his coffee.
Prentiss smirks, clearly amused. “You’re so lucky I love you.” She takes the mug away from Liv. “Even when you eat sugar and bounce off the walls.”
“She can’t eat sugar either?” Reid frowns.
“That’s a lie. I run on sugar.” Liv responds. “If my brain is this sharp on coffee, imagine what it’ll do with a full night of sleep.” She points. “Garcia, can you check Melanie Clarion social media activity? Specially twitter.”
“Why Twitter?” Reid asks.
“That’s where all the deranged people are.” Liv responds.
“You’re always on Twitter.” Morgan frowns.
“You’re just proving her point.” JJ says, obvious and Liv nods.
“All right. There is no account under her name but one, ‘disasterqueen_14’, she has six thousand followers…”
“Amateur.” Liv shakes her head.
“And she’s really active. She basically venerates Leroi. She posts about him every day. There are fights on social media every day for him. Lately her responses are full of the topic of Leroi’s abuse.” Garcia keeps digging further. “No tweets around the death times.”
“Because she’s busy killing.” Liv moves her hair away from her face. “Oh, God. I need to calm down. Reid, you make nuclear-grade coffee.”
“Uh, oh. I hacked into her account. Don’t ask how…” Garcia starts.
“We weren’t going to.” Prentiss cuts, pulling a smile from Olivia’s lips.
“Liv was right. She has bookmarked posts, accounts. Chat groups where they pass the hate tweets. There are like five of them.” Penelope continues. “This is like a deep-rooted obsession.”
They all look at Olivia, she frowns a little. “What?”
“You were the one liberating a pack of feral thirteen-year-olds in social media. .” Morgan chuckles.
“I think it’s natural that we’re looking at you.” JJ smiles.
“Right. Okay… Umh… Garcia, what has she posted about the sexual abuse allegations?” Liv crosses her arms.
“Uh… hold on…” Garcia types quickly, eyes darting over the screen. “She’s reposted every thread that frames Leroi as a victim. A few particularly violent posts about the women who came forward with the allegations. ‘They’re attention seeker whores who just want fame and money, and they deserve to die for being liars.’. It’s just… so weird.”
Olivia sighs. “What can you get about those women?” Hotch asks. “I’m surprised she hasn’t tried to kill them.”
“Anyone with that amount of free time is unemployed. She probably still lives with her parents She cannot hunt outside of the immediate Boston area.” She says, finally glaring back at her chilaquiles. Her stomach growls, and she decides to take a bite. “These are amazing, by the way.”
“It makes sense.” Prentiss shrugs.
“And… Liv is right. She’s unemployed, studying- you’re going to laugh- psychology at a local community college, still lives with her parents.” Garcia continues. “On the other side. The woman who came forward with the allegations lives in Miami.”
“Way too far for her to hunt.” Rossi decides and Liv nods.
“Oh! I have her last known location. She’s at the South Bay Mall. Logged into Twitter three minutes ago from there.” Garcia says.
“Is it possible for you to know if anyone on those lists is there right now? Think public profile, probably personal. Full name and photo that she could recognize easily.” Liv asks. Garcia’s fingers fly over the keyboard.
“One. Taylor Beck, fifteen-year-old. She posted a photo on the food court one hour ago. Logged into Twitter twenty minutes ago, still there.”
“That’s the next victim.” Hotch decides before looking at Olivia. “You’ll talk to Clarion. Make her delusion valid. We’ll cover for you.” Liv raises a brow, remembering the last time they did it. “We’ll shoot this time.”
That makes her smile. The buzzing of caffeine melting into adrenaline as she braces herself to go undercover. They’re all used to this. They’re in the field. The last time she went undercover, she was almost choked to death and had to force herself to use turtlenecks for two weeks just so she would stop feeling asphyxiated from having anything touching her neck.
“Olivia.” Detective Abati approaches her as the team steps out of the station. “Just… Be really careful, darling.”
Olivia feels her heart pump warm honey in her veins. How can such a sweet lady raise such a shitty son? She asked herself that for months after the breakup. She opens her arms and hugs the lady who was supposed to be her mother-in-law for the rest of her life. And she would’ve been happy about it.
“I will be careful.” She says. Mrs. Abati kisses her cheek and lets her go.
“There will be cops all over the place. I made sure of that.” She says and Liv nods before heading out.
The team is gone. Reid stands in front of the blinded SUV, fidgeting nervously with the keys. Somehow, he seems more affected by the thought of her talking to the unsub than she is. The thought makes her smile.
“They went to secure the entries… To make sure she didn’t leave before you arrived.” He says hesitantly. “Umh… what did she say?”
“To take care.” Liv takes the keys.
They jump into the car, she has a weird feeling, her heart feeling nervously against her chest. Something doesn’t seem right. And that something is Reid’s silence. She doesn’t expect him to be talking all the time, but she thought they had both grown more comfortable around each other.
“What?” Olivia asks, stopping at a red light.
Liv narrows her eyes. “There is nothing in this world that could make me go back to him.” She responds, kick-starting the car again when the light turns back to green.
“It’s just… his mom keeps talking to you as if you were going to. And you seem kind of touched.”
Olivia exhales sharply through her nose, eyes locked on the road.
“I was going to marry her son, Spencer.” She says. “I loved her. And she loved me back. I not only broke up with her son, I broke up with the whole family, but that doesn’t take away that we appreciate each other.” Olivia’s grip tightens around the wheel. “She can wish that I go back to him all she wants; it doesn’t mean it’s going to happen.”
Spencer nods slowly, but Olivia can see out of the corner of her eye that his fingers keep twitching in his lap. He’s not done.
“She called you darling.” He mumbles, like the word physically hurts him. “And you hugged her.”
Liv’s brow furrow. “Are you seriously jealous of a woman who makes lemon bars and adds edible glitter to them?”
He huffs, flustered. “I’m not jealous of her, I’m… It’s not that. He broke you, Olivia. And she still calls you like that, and you let her touch you like she’s family, and what if it makes it harder to stay away? What if you decide his family is enough to…”
Olivia pulls the car over without a word.
He panics. “Why are you stopping? Please don’t tell me you’re a kidnappe…”
She leans over, pulling his tie to attract him to her.
And then… She kisses him.
He’s in shock first. Like he doesn’t really understand what’s going on. Then, he gives in, cupping Olivia’s face as he kisses her like a man in starvation. Like that contact was an erupting point for him after months of wanting and not having. He kisses her as if he needed that kiss like a human needs water.
Olivia melts into it. Feeling abstract daydreams about kissing Spencer Reid suddenly become vivid and real.
She isn’t sure if she would’ve painted him as a good kisser before. She always thought it would be sloppy, and it would take some practice to get it to be good. He had to have kissed other girls before, right? He’s thirty-two years old, incredibly awkward but in the cutest of ways.
She pulls apart before she’s too consumed, before her mind starts roaming to places it shouldn’t, not now, at least. He stares at her for a second. Then, red creeps up his ears, neck and cheeks.
“Are you done spiraling?” Olivia starts the car again.
“Maybe.”
She smirks. “Wanna talk about it more?”
He clears his throat, fidgeting with his seatbelt. “No, that’s okay”
Liv nods, a silly smile invading her lips as she drives. But the post-kiss euphoria doesn’t last long. As they near the mall, she can see Reid’s jaw tensing again. For a second, she thinks he’s going to continue about the Dean situation. But then, he talks.
“What if she goes for you?” He starts. “She’s delusional, Liv, she might attack you just because.”
“Are you worried about me, Doctor Reid?” She tilts her head with a teasing smile. “Maybe you should come with me and protect me.”
“I’m not the kind to tackle the unsubs. That’s what we have Derek for.” He jokes and she chuckles.
“You’re right. He might lose his job if you start kicking doors down.” Liv grins.
He gives a nervous chuckle, but there’s an edge of something more, maybe worry, that’s lurking behind his eyes. “I just… I don’t want to lose you. Not like that.”
Liv smiles, touched by his words. “I’ll try to survive.” She says, voice playful but steady. “Besides, do you think a girl with a knife can hurt me? In my neighborhood, you would get laughed at if you tried to mug someone with a knife.”
“Liv, she’s dangerous.”
Olivia scoffs. Pulling into the parking lot. “So it’s my neighborhood.”
Reid gives her a flat look that doesn’t quite land. His eyes are too full of fear.
“Seriously. I will not be able to explain that the last girl I kissed died ten minutes later without sounding like a total jinx.”
Olivia grins, her hand already on the door handle. “Technically, I was the one to kiss you.”
Spencer gets off the car just as she closes the door behind her. His cheeks flush pink as he shakes his head with a huffed smile. They approach Derek and Prentiss.
“You’re not helping.”
“Didn’t say I was trying to.” She responds.
“Are you ready, pretty girl?” Derek asks her.
“Is she located?” Liv asks, letting herself be wired. Reid’s eyes shine in a mix of fear and adrenaline and that makes her smile a bit.
“Kind of. She’s walking around, kind of like locating Beck.” Emily says. Liv nods. “Are you wearing your gun?” She asks and Liv smiles and nods again.
“Yes, Mom, I promise I’m wearing my gun.” Liv jokes. “I’ll be alright. If I’m not, please put me in one of those hairy coffins that look like you’re getting buried in a huge stuffed animal. My mom hates them.” She says, pulling a smile from the guy wiring her, he finishes. “Thank you.”
Olivia takes a deep breath before entering the mall. She follows all the indications to where the girl is. Too seemingly composed to be in the middle of a delusion. Liv notices how she stays behind a group of three girls, and how then, she follows her inside a store.
There’s far too many people in the mall. She wishes most of them were undercover cops, but the reality is that there are not enough people for her to feel as supported as she wanted. She remembers the Arizona case, feeling less scared then, on her first time in the field, than she’s now.
Still, she steps into the store following her. The group laughs and giggles while seeing clothes. Liv’s mind fills with the memories of her at that age, going shopping with her friends. Feeling so grown up for the first time. They’re oblivious to the danger surrounding them, and that makes her heart ache.
Taylor’s friends convince her to go try something on, and Liv’s heart skips a beat when Melanie grabs a random piece and follows her to the dressing rooms.
“She’s going to do it. I have to come in.” She says.
“Ortiz, you can’t. Not alone.” Hotch instructs. But she’s already moving out of instinct. “Ortiz, wait for backup!”
“Then the backup better fucking hurry.” She responds as she enters the dressing room hallway. The laughs are muffled and the scary reality is that Taylor might be dead by now.
Olivia wishes to have Reid by her side, to ask him how long would it take Melanie to stab someone so many times, then maybe, she can get Taylor out of here alive. She’s fifteen. She keeps repeating to herself.
And then, a muffled cry. Olivia doesn’t think twice before opening the curtain, finding Taylor trying to get away from Melanie’s grip. Melanie holds her knife clumsily, like trying to get the right stability before striking.
“Melanie, drop the knife.” Olivia says. Her grip in her gun tighter than ever.
The truth is that she doesn’t believe she could shoot her, and hates the idea of someone else doing so. She holds her hands in the air. She knows that she needs Taylor to be safe, and she needs the knife far away from the teen’s body.
“She said that Leroi should be in jail.” Melanie responds. “He didn’t do anything, you stupid bitch!”
“He didn’t.” Olivia agrees. Melanie’s stare lights up for a moment as she looks at her. “He didn’t, those girls are clearly lying to get attention.”
“Yes! Yes! Exactly.”
“And they got it from stupid people like her. But he needs you more than ever, Melanie.” She listens to the approaching footsteps. Backup. She gives Hotch a sign as he approaches.
‘Let me handle it.’ She thinks. ‘Don’t shoot her, just let me handle this.’
“He does, I’m helping him.” She tries to stab Taylor, but Liv steps forward.
“But you’re wasting your time on idiots like her.” She shakes her head. “You’re his biggest fan, his best fan. You’re willing to die for him, aren’t you?”
“Of course!”
“And he’s the only one who understands you. He should be crawling to you to thank you for protecting him like you’ve been doing.” Liv continues.
Melanie’s hand wavers for a second, the tip of the knife trembling mid-air. Her breathing is ragged, eyes wild, darting between Olivia and Taylor.
“She said he was disgusting. That he brainwashed them. They don’t even know what they’re talking about.” Melanie’s voice breaks. “He saved me. Now I have to protect him.”
“I know.” Liv nods slowly. “I read your posts on Twitter. He’s your favorite person. He heard you.” She gets on her knees. She knows she shouldn’t. “But if you kill her, no one will care about you anymore. You’ll be just a crazy fan who ruined everything. He knows you protect him. Has he ever thanked you? .”
“He loves me.” She shakes her head. Her fury coming back at her. “You’re just trying to put me away from him.”
She lounges towards Liv, so full of rage it takes her a second longer to process what’s going on. Her knife aiming towards her ribs, Olivia moves just in time. The blade cuts the flesh of her arm, and she winces, trying to maintain her posture just enough to get out of here alive.
Olivia catches her wrist as she tries to stab her. The sickening crack of a breaking bone makes her skin crawl as she pushes her hand to the floor, making her drop the knife in the process. Melanie screams, launching herself at Olivia with a wild cry. Fingernails, fists, knees. Chaotic and desperate, she fights back in any way she can. Olivia uses her weight to trap Melanie’s arms to the floor.
“I’m so sorry.” She shakes her head.
Melanie keeps shrieking, inconsolable, spit flying, legs kicking, like she’s still fighting even after the war ended. Her heart aches, but not from the wound, but from the scene before her.
All she sees is a lonely, obsessed, deluded young girl.
The team moves, she asks, basically begs to be delicate with her wrist. Melanie screams something unintelligible, voice cracking with hysteria. Her limbs no longer cooperate with her fury. It doesn’t help Olivia. She stands up with a shaky breath.
JJ grabs Taylor, who’s pale and sobbing silently, her hands trembling. The girl collapses into her, sobbing heavily as she comforts her. Hotch checks Olivia’s arm.
“You’re bleeding.” He says, his tone sharp with concern.
Olivia looks down at the ash, the blood running freely now. She exhales slowly. “Yes, and it hurts like a bitch. Can I be excepted of being unsub bait for the next month or so, please?”
“I’ll consider it.” He says with that dark, dry humor of his. “You need stitches.”
“And eight hours of sleep.” She nods. A small smile forming on his face.
And then… Reid.
He rushes into the corridor, his eyes finding her instantly. He sees the blood and freezes mid-step.
“Liv…”
“I’m fine.” She says quickly.
“You shouldn’t have gone in alone.” He says softly, but there is no scolding in his voice, just fear hidden beneath all.
“I didn’t have a choice.”
“There is always a choice.” He whispers. “You just keep making the stupid one.”
That makes her smile. Her eyes flicker to the girl wrapped in JJ’s arms. “I treated her so bad.”
“You saved her. I don’t really think she’s overthinking what you said when she had a knife aimed at her kidney.”
“It was more her pancreas.” Liv cocks her lips. “I just need to know she’s fine.”
“And I just need you in one piece.”
That makes Liv huff a laugh. “That would be difficult. I keep making stupid decisions.”
She watches the EMT arrive, Hotch approaches with them. “Reid, let them take a look at her.”
Reid steps aside reluctantly, and Olivia contains a smirk. “Why? He’s a doctor.” Liv smiles stupidly.
Hotch ignores her, he has probably learned to do a lot of that since she started working at the BAU. Liv watches as Emily struts into the store, almost pushing away the EMT to check on her. She grabs her chin, moving her face to make sure she’s well.
“Auch, you can be delicate.” Olivia complains, feeling her neck crack softly at one of the movements.
“You’re gonna get yourself killed, and it will be my fault for putting you in the field.” She says, dropping her face.
“I’m fine.” She shakes her head. “I had it under control.”
“Yeah, it looked like it when she stabbed you.” Rossi says ironically.
“That was a slip… Ow.” She looks at the paramedic, who had just finished stitching her. “Thank you.”
She takes a deep breath, finally letting the weight of the day settle over there. It’s been long and chaotic, she’s in serious need of a warm shower and a long nap. Her head aches and there is an unknown throb behind her eyes. So as soon as the team settles on leaving, he’s more than happy to do so.
They go back to the police department and pick up everything. Olivia finds Detective Abati looking at her as Hotch says goodbye to her. She decides to approach her one last time.
“I want you to know that I really appreciate you and I’m grateful for all your kindness.” She says. “But I need you to understand why I’m not going back with Dean. And I beg you to tell him to leave me alone. I’m building my life again.”
Her expression softens. She nods slowly, the weight of everything finally settling in her eyes too.
“I do understand.” She says gently. “More than you think. And I’ll make sure he hears it. Really hears it.”
Olivia exhales a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Thank you.” She murmurs. “That means a lot.”
Abati takes a hesitant step forward and then opens her arms. Olivia doesn’t think, she just steps into the hug. It’s warm. Solid. Unexpected. A mother’s embrace.
“I’m proud of you.” She takes her face in her hands. “Take care of yourself, darling.”
Olivia squeezes her eyes shut for a second, tears threatening again, but this time, they don’t fall.
“Thank you.” She says, voice low but steady.
They part slowly, and Olivia nods one last time before turning toward the team. Reid is already waiting by the SUV, the passenger door open, his jacket in hand. He watches her with a gentle concern that she’s come to know so well.
“You okay?” He asks as she slides in.
“I’m so emotionally drained.” She shakes her head. “I need clonazepam and a lot of Western medicine. Maybe a couple of shots of tequila too.”
“Yeah, we’ll skip the tequila until you’re off the painkillers.” He chuckles softly as he hands her his jacket. She doesn’t think twice before putting it on.
He starts the car, glancing at her once more before pulling onto the road. Then, without a word, he reaches over and gently takes her hand in his, intertwining their fingers as he drives. His thumb brushes against her knuckles in the most reassuring way possible.
Olivia lets out another breath, quieter, steadier. She looks out of the window at the city she thought she never wanted to see again. But now, she realizes that after kissing Reid, Boston doesn’t feel as heavy as it did before.
Reid’s fingers tighten against her hand. “Rain check?”
She smiles a bit and looks out of the window. “Does snow count as rain?”
Reid huffs a soft laugh, his eyes flicking to her like he can’t help himself. “Snow is a form of precipitation. Frozen water droplets, crystalline structure. It comes from clouds just like rain. So in a sense, yes, it counts… Although, meteorologically speaking, it’s categorized separately because of temperature and…”
He pauses mid-ramble when he catches her smiling, chin propped in her hand as she watches him.
“What?” He asks, voice dipping just slightly.
“Nothing.” She murmurs. “I like hearing you talk. You have a soothing voice.”
“You must be the only person who thinks that.” He gives an almost sheepish laugh.
“Then I’ll be the only one.” She says simply, and looks out of the window, a smile lingering.
They drive in comfortable silence for a while, the hum of the engine and Reid’s thumb brushing over her knuckles grounding her more than anything else has in days. When they finally approach the jet, Olivia exhales softly.
The jet is prepped for departure. Olivia instinctively glances toward the familiar seat next to Emily, finding Rossi there instead, already mid-conversation with her.
“This feels like treason.” She crosses her arms, approaching them.
They takes a seat across from them, putting on her headphones and letting herself sleep away all the feelings. She doesn’t seem to notice Reid’s soft caresses over the back of her hand as she naps, but she instinctively moves in response every time he stops to change the page of his book.
Chapter 8
Notes:
The song for this chapter is for sure Sparks fly.
WC: 5191 words.
Chapter Text
Reid adjusts coat nervously as he drives. He’d told Olivia he’d pick her up at three pm, and he was planning to be there on time, even if her Latin unpunctuality made him have to wait in her living room for a couple of minutes.
He had been surprisingly comfortable around Olivia after their kiss. It’s not that they brushed it off. They knew it had a deeper meaning that just a kiss, but they hadn’t discussed it any further. They couldn’t when the whole team was surrounding them like hawks, waiting for anything to catch their interest.
He presses Liv’s doorbell, fidgeting with the flower bouquet in his hands. Finding them in the middle of winter had been a pain in the ass. But he had been stubborn about it. He wanted something pretty for her.
Olivia opens the door a minute later, the smell of coconut lingering in her presence. She wears a black turtleneck dress and black knee-high boots. The O necklace shines solitarily on her neck. She smiles at him.
“Hi.” She says.
“Hi.” He says, holding out the tulips. “These are for you.”
She freezes for a moment, her eyes on the bouquet like no one has ever given her something so delicate. Then she smiles, softer this time. “No one has ever gotten me flowers.”
That stuns him. He thinks it is ridiculous. She’s way too pretty to have never received something as futile as flowers. “You were going to get married to a man who never bought you flowers?”
She smells them, moving away from the door to let him in. “I didn’t lie when I said I only date jerks. The bar is in hell.”
Reid steps into the apartment. The warmth of her apartment wrapping him like a blanket. He follows her silently to the kitchen.
“I don’t even think I own a vase.” She comments, opening the cabinets.
“We’ll figure something out.” He responds, unable to not appreciate the huge smile on her lips. As if something as simple as flowers made her the happiest.
“Tulips are my favorite.” She points, smelling them again while filling a tall glass of water and placing them. “How did you know that?”
“I kind of… profile people.” He says as he puts his hands in his pockets. She gives a breathy laugh, bringing them closer to her face to smell them again. She brushes one of the pink petals like its something fragile, something important.
“You should do that for a living.” She says, looking at him again, eyes shining brightly. She has no idea what she’s doing to him.
He smiles back, a little crooked, a little shy. “I’ll consider it.”
She gently runs her fingers over the flowers. “They’re gorgeous.”
Spencer shifts a little, searching for something to keep the conversation going. “They will last longer if you add sugar and a drop of lemon juice… or vinegar. It lowers the pH so that the stems can absorb water more efficiently. The sugar feeds them, and the acidity slows bacterial growth…”
She’s staring at him now, blinking.
“I’m rambling, aren’t I?” He asks, but she’s turns around and searches for something in the pantry.
“No, I love it. You’re a walking flower manual.” She steps away from it with a vinegar bottle and a container named ‘sugar’.
“I’m a chemist.” He responds, and she nods, smiling.
“Well, good use of that title. I want them to last forever.” She takes a spoonful of sugar. “Do you think this is right?”
“That’s a bit too much.” He murmurs, gently reaching for her hand to steady it. His fingers brush hers as she takes the spoon and sprinkles just a pinch into the water, then adds the tiniest splash of vinegar from the bottle she’s holding.
She watches his hands work, and something in his expression shifts, softens.
“There.” He says. “That should do it.”
She doesn’t respond immediately.
Instead, she leans in.
It’s soft. Her lips touch his like a question she already knows the answer to.
Reid freezes.
It’s not that he doesn’t want to kiss her. God, he does. It’s been all he thinks about since Boston, when she kissed him for the first time and all the doubts about her liking him back disappeared into thin air.
But now it was different. He felt even more aware of all the lack of kissing experience he had.
His lips move hesitantly against hers. He had kissed girls before. But they didn’t make him as nervous as she does. He also didn’t like them as much as he likes her. Now, he’s not even sure he liked them at all. Olivia just consumes everything about him.
His hands hover awkwardly until his brain finally seems to work enough to let them fall to her waist. He pulls her closer, as if he couldn’t tolerate being one away from her in any way. Her hand rest lightly on his shoulder, the other slips into the curls at the nape of his neck.
It is not their first kiss. That one had been desperate and messy, with months of tension and heavy feelings unraveling at all once. This one was quieter, softer. And he was trying to memorize every aspect of it.
Part of him couldn’t shake the thought that she must be disappointed. She must know what she’s doing. She’s probably kissed guys who didn’t think too hard about it. Guys who just knew what to do with their hands and aren’t trembling inside.
And yet… she sighed into the kiss like it was enough.
That’s what made him brave enough to kiss her back with a little more certainty, to tilt his head just slightly and let himself feel it instead of overthinking it.
She’s the one who pulls apart, barely, just enough for him to let him catch his breath again.
“Thank you.” She whispers. “For the flowers.”
He blinks, still processing what just happened.
“I’ll grab my purse and coat and we can go.” She turns like she didn’t steal every ounce of air away from his lungs.
He’s still standing there when she comes back, a long pink coat covering her and a black little purse hanging from her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
He blinks again and clears his throat. “Yea. I’m… yeah.”
She smiles, a little shy but warm, like she knows how scrambled his brain is and isn’t going to make him say it.
They walk down to his car in quiet. The kind of quiet that feels full rather than awkward. He opens the passenger door for her, and she sweeps into the car. Spencer rounds the car and immediately reaches for Olivia’s hand. His fingers close around hers like they’re meant to stay there.
Olivia doesn’t say anything at first. She simply laces their fingers together like it’s a second nature and leans her head back against the seat, exhaling contentedly.
She turns up radio, taping her fingers against his knuckles at the beat of a song that she apparently knows. He keeps glancing at her as he drives, one hand on the wheel, the other still holding hers. Like he’s making sure she’s really there. That she really kissed him again. That maybe he still wanted to.
But the longest the silence stretches, the more the doubt creeps back.
She had kissed him, and he had loved it, but maybe she didn’t. Maybe she’s too gentle to mock him for not being a good kisser. Maybe she’s going on a date with him out of pure politeness and not because she actually wants to.
Maybe he already ruined everything, and he’s not even sure it started it.
“What are you thinking?” Liv asks, looking at him in the silence between songs.
“The kiss.” He confesses. He thinks that if she already made out her mind about him, he might as well have her telling him straight. “I might be terrible at it.”
“You aren’t.” She responds reassuringly. “It was a good kiss, Spencer. I liked it.”
He blinks, almost surprised.
She smiles softly, her thumb brushing over the back of his hand like she can feel how tightly he’s wound inside.
“I wouldn’t have kissed you if I didn’t want to.” She says, her voice low but sure. “And I definitely wouldn’t have done it again if I hadn’t liked the first one.”
He exhales a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, eyes flicking from the road to her and back again.
“I just…” he begins, then trails off, unsure of how to express the flood of thoughts hammering his brain at all times. “I don’t have a lot of experience with… any of this. Not in the way that matters.”
“It’s fine, Spencer. Experience doesn’t magically appear in literally any field.” Liv squeezes his hand. There is no teasing in her tone. Just honesty, kindness. It hits him harder than he expects.
“I think about it. Kissing you.” He confesses. “A lot more than I should admit.”
“Then you should do it.” She responds naturally.
That makes him almost miss his turn. He glances at her, and the look she gives him is nothing short of steady, like she means every word.
She lets out an ungodly squeak when a song begins playing. Sharp reggaetón beats thumping through the speakers. She smiles like the music itself just gave her a gift. She turns the radio with her free hand.
She hums along and then sings under her breath, hips swaying a little, even in the confines of the passenger seat. Her joy is uncontained and utterly contagious.
Spencer watches her, totally enthralled.
They’re already in the parking lot, but he doesn’t stop the car. He doesn’t even think about moving.
He just lets the song play while she vibes to it. Mouthing lyrics in Spanish like it’s a second nature.
It’s ridiculous how much he loves watching her. How he’s charmed by her every action.
When the song finally ends, she turns the volume down. “Reggaetón just hits different.” She leans into her seat. “You were staring.”
“I was enjoying the performance.” He says quietly, eyes full of something that looks a lot like awe.
She chuckles, but doesn’t look embarrassed at all. “You could’ve told me to stop.”
“And kill your vibe? I wouldn’t dream of it.” He unbuckles his seatbelt.
He climbs out, walks around the front of the car and opens the door for her like he’s done it a thousand times.
Olivia steps out, smiling to thank him. She definitely doesn’t know what it does to him. It feels like his heart forgets how to beat every time she smiles. And she smiles a lot. In the most charming kind of way that makes him sure that his cardiovascular system hasn’t been the same since she stepped in his life.
He shuts the door behind her, just a little more gently than necessary.
They’re standing a little too close for his sanity, and her perfume might actually be trying to kill him. They’re not touching, but it’s like gravity is trying to pull them together.
She tugs at the hem of her jacket and glances up at him through her lashes. “So… you were saying something about kissing me?”
He huffs a soft laugh, but it’s nervous, like he wasn’t expecting her to circle back to that topic so quickly. “I did say that, didn’t I?”
“Yes.” She tilts her head, teasing. “And I don’t want to be nosy, but if you want to try it now, it’s a great moment.”
It is. God, it is. His brain is buzzing with nerves. He hadn’t started a kiss before. He always felt like he was keeping up with her. Like he’d mess up if he led.
But now? He wants to try. For once.
So he steps forward, heart pounding in his ears, and lifts both hands to cradle her face like she’s made of glass. His thumbs brush her cheekbones.
He leans and kisses her.
It’s gentle, barely more than a peck, but it makes his heart buzz against his chest.
When they pull back, Olivia’s smile is small and a little dazed. “Took you long enough.”
“I was being a gentleman.” He says, resting his forehead against hers.
“As per usual.” She nods. “So, where are we?”
He clears his throat, suddenly acquiring back his sense of geography. “You’ll see.”
His fingers intertwine with hers as he takes her into the café, the soft sound of lo-fi music and the faint scent of coffee hit them. They spend a solid second inside before Olivia stops cold on her step.
“Spencer.” She gasps, squeezing her forearm lightly.
He looks at her, a huge grin on his face.
“There are cats here.”
He chuckles, taking off his coat. He’s been waiting for this exact moment. “I’m aware.”
“You brought me to a cat café!” She looks at him with the biggest smile ever. “This is the best date of my life.”
A small kitten approaches them, and Liv crouches to pet it.
“You are so cute.” She coos. “I would give my life for you.” She scratches behind his ears with a huge smile. “Can I pick you up?” She tries and lets out the most undignified squeal when the kitten just lets himself be cradled into her arms. “I can pick you up!”
Spencer chuckles, looking at her. He’s completely undone by the way she beams. The way her laugh fills the quiet café. And how something so simple as bringing her to a café could make her react like this.
“I think I have never been happier.” She pets the kitten as they walk towards one of the tables. She looks at him, smiling when a purring sound erupts from the small kitten in her arms. “Spencer, he’s purring.”
“I can hear that.”
“I think I’m going to cry.” She looks in awe at another cat approaching them. The cat doesn’t do anything more than sit next to her. She closes her eyes for a long moment, kind of like trying to get herself together.
The waiter approaches them with menus. Olivia is still holding the kitten like a baby as she checks it. She rubs his belly, and he squirms happily on her arms, she chuckles, looking at him. It is simple, but seeing her so happy makes his chest flutter.
“What are you getting?” She asks him, gasping when another cat approaches them. “Hi!” She reaches for the white ball of fur.
“Hot chocolate.” He responds, and she nods. “You?”
“Decaf strawberry matcha.” She closes her eyes. “I’m turning into a white woman, Reid.”
“You were dancing reggaeton in my car less than ten minutes ago.” He points, she looks at him and blinks.
“You’re completely right. That makes me feel so much better.” She smiles. The waiter comes back.
Olivia gently places the kitten back on the bench before ordering her drink. Reid notices the way she speaks to the cat as if it were a little child. Murmuring something about behaving.
The waiter leaves with a polite nod.
Another kitten approaches them, a small calico that doesn’t look older than a couple of months. Olivia holds it with a huge smile. “It’s your turn.”
Reid stares at them. “I’m not particularly good with animals.” He confesses. “Hotch calls it the ‘Reid Effect’. Kids don’t like me either.”
“Hotch is dramatic.” She lets the kitten crawl onto his lap like it owns it. “You see? He likes you.”
He pets the kitten like it might explode at any second, which makes her smile even more
“I’m sure I’ve seen you look at serial killers more lovingly than how you’re looking at this cat.” She points. The kitten purrs in his lap, curling up. He dares to rest his hand gently on its back.
Reid exhales slowly, watching the kitten settle in his lap like it belongs there. “Killers are more predictable.” He says finally. “Patterns. Cycles. Triggers. I can map out their behavior.”
Olivia quirks an eyebrow, gently rubbing the calico’s tiny ear. “And this guy?”
“He has no pattern. No structure. He just exists.” He glances down as the kitten purrs loudly, nudging its head into his hand. “It’s unsettling.”
Olivia laughs softly and airily before placing her own little cat army back in her lap. “I just think you like control. This one looks like a rebel without cause.” She nods at the calico. “That’s dangerous.”
“I don’t like not knowing what to expect.” He admits, watching as the calico starts kneading his sweater. “He could bite me.”
The kitten in his lap lets out a soft, contented meow, and Olivia’s face lights up again. “He likes you, Spencer. Don’t fight it.”
Reid looks down at the tiny, curled-up ball of fluff now asleep on his thigh. Then back at her. “He’s tolerating me.”
“That’s more than most humans do. You should be proud.”
He tilts his head. “That might actually be true.”
“Let me take a picture before the cat decides to kill someone or do something erratic.” She says, taking her phone out. “Smile.”
He does, wary of the kitten. She takes the pic and stares at it for a long moment with a sweet smile before showing it to him. He doesn’t look as uncomfortable as he thought he’d be, he figures it must be good enough because she saves it and puts her phone down.
The waiter arrives with their drinks. Olivia is unfazed as she takes a sip of the pink drink. Spencer doesn’t want to awake the kitten, so he doesn’t move at all. She looks at him, soft blue eyes sparkling.
“You’re doing so well.” She whispers, petting an orange cat that appeared out of nowhere, voice laced with amusement.
Reid lifts her eyes at her. “You’re mocking me.”
She smiles. “Not at all.” Her nails scratch the chin of the little calico. “I’m admiring you.”
He’s about to respond when she leans closer and presses a soft kiss on his lips. It’s quick, barely there, but it still shuts down his entire nervous system.
Then she adds, like she’s congratulating a child for climbing a scary slide. “You’re so brave, Reid.”
His brain goes static.
He stares at her, lips parted slightly, a breath caught in his throat. The kitten shifts on his lap, purring louder, but he can’t move. His heartbeat thuds embarrassingly hard against his ribs.
Olivia just grins. She clearly knows what she does to him, but still, she just turns back to her drink as if nothing happened. As if he weren’t having a minor cardiac arrest.
He stays frozen, eyes on her, feeling the faintest pink rising in his cheeks.
“You okay there, genius?” She asks without looking up. She takes her phone and snaps a pic of the kitten in her lap.
“I think my neurons short-circuited.” He mutters.
She just hums. “Happens to the best of us.”
The kitten on his lap decides he’s had enough and walks towards Olivia. She receives him with open arms and a huge grin, making his heart skip a beat. She’s comfortable, leaning on the bench, one of the cats plopped on her stomach while the other plays with the hem of her dress.
“Thank you for bringing me here.” She comments, reaching for a cat toy on the table next to them. One of the kittens doesn’t have it with the movement and stands up, walking away. “No, don’t leave, baby.”
“It is really nothing special.” He responds, but she shakes her head.
Her eyes are still on the kitten as she waves the toy. “It is to me.” Her voice is painfully sincere. She waves the cat toy halfheartedly, but smiles as the kitten bats at it. Then her voice dips a little, more thoughtful. “I used to have a cat. Back when I was at VICAP.”
Spencer looks up. “Yeah?”
She nods, chuckling at the kitten playing. “Her name was Salem. She was a black cat I rescued around Halloween. Used to sit on my laptop whenever I tried to write reports. I got her a mini laptop, and she would sit in front of it for hours. I read somewhere that they imitate you.” A tiny smile plays on her lips. “Dean kept her when we broke up.”
Spencer’s brow furrows. “That doesn’t seem fair.”
She shrugs. “It was probably for the best. I was about to join the BAU, and I figured I wouldn’t have time to take great care of her. Now I cannot even take care of myself, so…” She rubs the kitten’s belly. “I still miss her though.”
There’s a beat of silence, the kind that isn’t always awkward, just… full of shared understanding. This job is complicated, takes too much and probably doesn’t give enough.
“I’ve managed to work out a pretty solid arrangement with Socrates.” Spencer says after a second, and Olivia laughs softly. “He’s low-maintenance and doesn’t judge me when I come home at three am.”
“Socrates must have his own wild nights out. That’s why.” She smiles.
A delighted chuckle escapes him, soft and private. “Now that you say it. He does look surprisingly smug sometimes. I caught him once watching Jeopardy reruns without me.”
Olivia laughs again, freely this time. “Betrayal of the highest order.”
She’s nested on the bench, her drink in hand and a lazy grin on her face as another cat climbs onto her lap and curls into a ball. Another begins battling at the ribbon of her dress.
Reid’s arm rests behind her on the back of the bench. Not quite touching her but close enough to feel the warmth of her body and faint scent of coconuts. He lets himself breathe her in.
He takes a sip of his hot chocolate, the marshmallows completely melted by now. And then, instinct gets the best of him. His fingers start running over the skin of her neck, so softly he’s not even sure that she has realized what he’s doing. She’s holding a cat like a baby.
“I think I love you.” She says, babying the cat. “Yes, I love you so much.” She holds his face. “You’re so cute.”
And then, one of the kittens in her laps start kneading her thigh with tiny paws. She lets out the most startled little squeak and instinctively clutches Reid’s forearm.
“He’s making biscuits on me!” She half laughs.
“He’s trying to help your lymphatic circulation.” He offers. “Cats knead when they feel safe.”
Olivia smiles at him. “So I make him feel safe?” She leans closer to him. He hasn’t stopped drawing circles around her neck. Cats kept coming, and Liv smiled even wider with every single one of them.
“Can you take a photo of me with my army?” She asks, he takes his phone, and she poses, holding two cats in her hands and having one of them curled up on her lap. One is just loafing next to her.
He feels his heart skip a beat at her huge grin.
The photo is perfect. He didn’t expect nothing less. She’s too pretty to look bad in any way. Her eyes are half-squinting from how wide she’s smiling, the sleeves of her coat bunched up as she cradles the cats like precious treasures, one kitten nuzzling into her arm like it belongs there. He takes another shot, then another, not because she moved or looks bad but because he doesn’t want the moment to end,
“You look really happy.” He says quietly, almost reverently.
She looks at him from behind long thick lashes. “I am so happy.”
Her thigh is still pressed against his. His fingers find the same spot on her neck, right below her ear that he had been caressing before.
He hated people invading his space. He didn’t like any kind of physical contact, but lately he felt a constant pull towards her. Almost as if once he touched her, he couldn’t contain himself from doing it.
“So…” She starts. “Is it safe to assume we’re having a second date?”
He drinks more of his hot chocolate. “I’m kind of afraid you would only say yes because you’re surrounded by cats.”
She giggles. “You’re bribing me with kittens, then.”
He hums, scratching behind the ear of one of the many cats surrounding them. He’s not a cat person… not an animal person at all, but they were growing on him. “I call it planning ahead of time.”
“That’s an IQ of 187 working.” She nods, resting her head against his shoulder.
He freezes for a moment. Unable to believe she’s actually there with him. That she has kissed him more than once and keeps doing it. That she might like him, even if it’s less than how much he likes her, because he likes her a lot. Unable to believe a girl so out of his league would even look at him.
“This is really domestic.” She comments. “I feel like we have been married for five years, with our cat Meatball.” She scratches the head of the white cat in her lap.
“You named him?” He frowns a little.
“I have been naming them all.” She smiles widely.
“Well, statistically, most marriages don’t last more than five years.” He says and immediately cringes, remembering marriage is a delicate topic around her after she broke her engagement. “That was… not romantic. Sorry.”
She chuckles, just as a new cat decides to climb up her shoulder, making her laugh. “It’s okay. Wow me with your grim statistics.”
He’s about to apologize again, but this time she presses a slight kiss on his cheek, shutting him up before even starting.
“I like it when you get all nerdy. It’s cute.” She smiles, looking at the cat loafing next to her. “So when it’s the second date happening?”
“Whenever I can find a hamster café.” He responds, and she laughs.
“I would marry you on the spot if you take me to a hamster café.”
“Tempting.” He responds, making her smile.
They stay there for a while more, talking about everything and anything until the sun starts to go down and they decide that it might be time to leave. Spencer drives her home, with one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding her hand. She’s checking the photos of the cats on her cellphone with a tiny smile.
“So…” She starts, leaning back in her seat. “What should we do about our dear teammates?” She asks, looking at him.
“Whatever you want.” He responds, bringing their hands closer to his mouth, and presses a soft kiss on her knuckles. Reid thinks that in that moment, maybe, just maybe, he’s the happiest he’s even been.
Olivia watches him for a beat, their fingers still entwined. “Okay, hear me out.” She begins, eyes flicking back to her phone briefly. “We tell no one.”
Reid blinks. “No one?”
She nods. “The team is nosy. Like aggressively nosy. You know what happens if they find out?”
He lifts an eyebrow, genuinely curious.
“They’ll swarm. We won’t get a moment without asking if we kissed, or if we’re already living together, or if we’ve… God, I don’t even know. Picked out baby names.”
“That sounds… wildly intrusive.” He agrees.
“Exactly.” She exhales and shifts slightly in her seat, turning her head to look at him fully. “I like this. I like you. I don’t want it ruined by Morgan wiggling his eyebrows every time I refill my water-bottle.”
Spencer hums in agreement, trying not to picture Morgan doing exactly that. “So… private.”
“Private. At least for now.” She echoes, nodding. “Not a secret. But ours. Until it doesn’t feel like everyone is going to smother it.”
He hesitates for a second. “You’re not even telling Prentiss?”
Olivia groans and lets her head fall back against the seat. “I want to. I really do. But if I tell Prentiss, she’ll tell Morgan. Morgan will tell Garcia, and Garcia will throw jabs about it until all the FBI knows we’re dating.”
He doesn’t respond right away. But the words hit him. She said they were dating, not as a question or a probability. She made it a fact.
And maybe it shouldn’t hit him as hard as it does, but it does. His chest tightens and expands all at once. He’s not used to this part. The ease. The certainty. Someone choosing him not just with soft looks and warm touches, but words. Out loud. Like she’s not looking at the nearest exit, but she’s already settled into the idea of them.
“That sounds… accurate.” He responds, parking in front of her house. “Garcia would start designing wedding invitations.”
She laughs, tipping her head toward him again. “Exactly. I just want… I don’t know. A little time to breathe in this. Without becoming a team-wide event and Rossi comparing it to his twenty marriages.”
He nods, thoughtful. “Then we’ll keep it ours. For as long as you want to.”
A beat of silence passes, comfortable and close. Olivia smiles at him. Really smiles at him, and stares at him like he hung the stars just for her. She looks out the window. The sun is just dipping below the horizon now, casting long shadows across the quiet street.
“Will you walk me to the door?” She tilts her head.
“Of course.” He unbuckles his seatbelt.
He closes the car before she can even think of stepping out. That makes her laugh. He opens the door for her, and she smiles at him. He places a hand on her lower back as he walks her to the door.
They stop at the porch, and she turns to him with that easy, slightly smug smile. “You’re really lucky.” She comments, leaning against the doorframe, her keys jingling in her hand. “I usually don’t kiss guys on the first date.”
Spencer tilts his head slightly, eyebrows raised, mouth twitching like he’s holding back a grin. “You kissed me a week ago in a car while you drove to catch an unsub.” He points. “That was very much before our first date.”
She gives a small laugh, shakes her head like he just caught her on the most ridiculous technicality. “That was a boy genius exception.” She says, stepping closer, voice lower now, teasing. “Onetime thing.”
He hums, amused and enamored. “Then I guess I better make the most of the exception.”
He cups her face and kisses her. Soft, quick, almost shy. But sure. She tastes of strawberry lip gloss and mint.
She doesn’t say anything when he pulls back, just stares at him with the softest smile. He smiles back, huge and stupid and wrecked.
“Bye.” He almost whispers.
“Bye.” She does as well.
He patiently waits until she’s inside and has locked the door before walking away. He’s grinning like he solved an impossible equation, and she was the answer all along.
He thinks to himself that maybe he’s already halfway in love. And he’s totally fine with that.
Chapter 9
Notes:
I have such a burning love for Liv, I literally cried writing this chapter.
I would say the song for this chapter is pretty isn't pretty by Olivia Rodrigo or Labyrinth by Taylor Swift
WC: 7229 words.
Chapter Text
The bullpen is unusually quiet. All you can hear is faint conversation from afar and the indistinctive sound of keyboards being typed.
They had an incredibly stressful week. Basically flying from one side of the country to the other in the span of a couple of days to solve completely different cases. Now, they were stuck in reports.
Olivia tries not to shoot occasional glances at Reid. She had grown too used to the flirting and constant touching and the sweet kisses. Last time they had dinner, he had commented he had never seen the Live Action Scooby-Doo movies. Liv had decided it was unacceptable, so she made him binge watch the two movies while they cuddled.
That’s how Liv discovered Spencer loved to touch her. He kept caressing her nape, running his fingers over her arm distractedly as they watched the movie. She couldn’t concentrate, but he seemed unfazed by it.
She sighs in relief when their shift ends. She’s begging for JJ not to appear all of the sudden with reports and another case of sex workers dumped in an alley.
Spencer waits for her to start packing up her stuff. At this point, she had grown used to him walking her to her car, and everyone in the office knew he did that.
“Hey Reid, did you take the subway today?” Prentiss asks, leaning back in her seat.
“I... did.” He responds, hanging his bag from his shoulder awkwardly.
“Why don’t you ask Liv for a lift?” She asks and Liv looks at him, containing a smirk.
“Do you need a lift?” She asks, standing up and grabbing her purse. He blinks, looking at her.
“Umh... yes. Thank you.” He says. Emily and Morgan share a smile, and Liv has to contain hers.
Reid and Olivia walk, letting them hear when she asks him where he lives. When they’re out of their reach, she talks.
“They think they did something.” She smiles.
“They are going to swear they are the ones who drove us together.” He adds.
“Losers.” Liv says.
They both put straight faces as they hop in the elevator. Liv gives him the car keys as soon as the metal doors close. “Thank you.”
Olivia bites her lip as she waits for the elevator to stop. He’s looking at her with those fuckass puppy eyes that drive her insane. She smiles at him, and he smiles back. His hands flex.
“Why do you never sit next to me in the briefing room?” She asks. It’s ridiculous and probably childish, and she isn’t even mad at it, just curious.
“Because every time that you’re next to me, I just need to touch you.” He points and she smiles.
“You’re not touching me now.” She replies, and his hazel eyes sparkle.
“And it’s killing me.” He says as if it were obvious. The elevator dings open, and they both walk to her silver SUV. He opens the passenger door for her as usual. At this point, it is established that he drives and she’ll be in charge of putting the playlist with dirtiest reggaeton to exist and vibe to the music. “I have to go grocery shopping, want to go with me?”
“What groceries do you buy?” She smiles, watching him methodically arrange the driver’s seat and the mirrors before turning on the car.
“I ran out of coffee.” He confesses, making her smile. “You’re way too short to drive a car this big.” He frowns a little.
“I’m not short.” She says as he takes her hand. “You’re just freakishly tall. Statistically. Like a giraffe but with better hair.”
“You’re five foot four.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t know what that means.” She replies instantly. “I’m Mexican. I don’t handle freedom units.”
Spencer blinks, resting their joined hands in her lap. “You don’t know your height in feet?”
“Should I?” She says, obviously. “I’m one meter sixty-something? Does that sound right? I was always tall at school.”
“Who did you go to school with? The Smurfs?” He asks, making her burst with laughter. He looks at her and smiles. “You’re five foot four. I’ve done the math.”
“What kind of math? Did you measure my platforms or what?”
“You’ve said you wear four-inch platforms. You are about five inches shorter than I am when you wear your stilts. It is really not that difficult.” He looks at her for one second, but she’s doing mental math.
“I don’t know what you just said, but it sounds offensive. Is it because I’m Mexican?”
Spencer raises an eyebrow, not letting go of her hand. “No, it’s because you refuse to learn freedom units.
She turns his palm-up in hers. Her fingers start tracing idle lines across his skin, featherlight and warm. “You could just convert it for me, like the instant calculator you are.”
“I could.” He agrees, his tone light, teasing. “But I wouldn’t be having nearly as much fun.”
She narrows her eyes, but her smile is huge. “You’re enjoying this?”
“Immensely.” He deadpans, making her snort. “Do you have an idea of the mental gymnastics you’re doing to not admit you’re short?”
“Because I am not.” She insists again, grinning. “I’m compact. An efficient machine. Airplane-friendly.”
Spencer snorts. “You’re five foot four. That’s like minimum height for amusement park rides. I cannot take you on a rollercoaster, they wouldn’t let you in.”
“I’m turning this car around.” She menaces, her thumb running lazily over the center of his palm.
“Sweetheart, you don’t even reach the dashboard.” He responds, and she groans, rolling her eyes.
“You’re literally driving my car.” She smiles at him.
He takes her hand and presses a soft kiss on her knuckles. He always does it, and it always makes her heart beat like crazy. “And you haven’t died yet. You’re welcome.”
She scoffs and rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t stop tracing doodles over his skin.
“So what else do we need to get besides coffee?”
He exhales slowly. “I’m low on toothpaste. And oatmeal.”
“Oatmeal.” She repeats. “This is thrilling. Should I get a cart or will one of those little baskets be enough for our wild, reckless grocery run?”
He laughs, and she feels it in her core.
She can feel herself falling head over heels for him. It isn’t slow or gentle, like one of those times where you suddenly realize you’re already in love with them when it’s too late. This is soft and tender, and she feels warm honey pumping through her veins when he is around.
She can’t help it, even if she wants to. She knows Spencer is not Dean. She knows Spencer won’t deliberately hurt her. He won’t cheat on her and then complain when she leaves him. She knows Spencer is not Dean, but her brain keeps repeating that he might be. And falling in love again means give someone else the power to break her like Dean did.
Because if she wasn’t enough for Dean, why would she be enough for Spencer?
Maybe it’s only a matter of time until he finds someone who interests him more. Someone smarter. Quieter. Less loud. Less... her.
Maybe it’s only a matter of time before he realizes she’s nothing more than a moderately pretty face and leaves her the first moment that he can.
Liv is not sure she could survive all that again.
But then without even looking at her, Spencer shifts their joined hands and lifts them to his lips again.
Another soft kiss. This time, to the inside of her wrist.
Still absentminded. Still utterly natural. Spencer doesn’t take his stare away from the road as he does it. It makes her heart skip a beat.
“I hope you never stop doing that.” He says in that casual tone that ends up completely breaking her.
She blinks.
“What?”
“Tracing things on my hands.” He murmurs, finally glancing at her.
“I thought you didn’t like people touching you.” She points and he shakes his head.
“I hate it when people touch me.” He says, matter-of-factly. “But I love it when you exist near me.” That makes her chuckle.
She swallows the lump forming in her throat.
They pull into the parking lot, and Spencer parks with the same precision he applies to everything else in his life. He unbuckles, unhurried, then moves around the car to open her door like he always does. Like she’s something precious.
But she doesn’t hope out of the car. Spencer leans forward, placing his hands on her waist like it is second nature. “Hi.”
She smiles at him. “Hi.”
He leans and kisses her softly. It makes her heart flutter and makes her forget how to breathe.
He looks at her like he’s memorizing the moment.
“You look gorgeous.” He says simply, like it’s not up for debate.
Liv laughs under her breath, almost shyly, and tips her head towards the amber parking lot lights. “That’s just the bad lighting.”
“If I squint, you look a little better.” He responds, making her smile.
“A little blurrier than well?” She asks, and he nods. He smiles as she pulls him closer to kiss him again.
He places a hand on her lower back as they walk through the automatic doors. He had his grocery list. Oatmeal, peanut butter, coffee, bread, bananas and toothpaste. Liv actually wondered if that’s what he lived on or it was just a small portion and he was the ‘buy as it runs out’ type of guy.
“They have a candle aisle.” She smiles widely. “I love candles.”
“You have about forty candles lying around in your apartment.” He points as she smells a cardamom jasmine one. She brings it closer to his nose.
He amusedly smells every single one she gives him, almost helping her pick one before she finds another one that she likes and the competition all over again. She was kind of afraid of him getting mad at it, but he just crosses her arms and continues with her.
“Do you seriously have to smell every single candle?” He asks, just as she finds another one that she likes.
“I’m not smelling them all.” She smiles, going closer to him.
“We’ve been here twenty minutes smelling candles.” He points.
“You’re killing my vibe, Doctor Reid.” She stands on her tiptoes and presses a soft kiss onto his lips.
“Well, well well.” A voice resonates behind them, making them separate like teenagers caught behind the bleachers. JJ is standing there, arms crossed. A blonde kid at her side. Her smile is practically feral.
“Uncle Spencer!” The kid runs to him.
Spencer smiles widely. “Hi buddy.” He reaches to lift the kid when he runs towards Spencer.
JJ raises a brow. “Fancy seeing you here.”
Spencer looks at Liv for a moment before looking back at JJ. “Hi.”
“Hi, JJ.” Liv smiles.
JJ’s eyes dart from Liv’s to Reid, and she glares at him in that dangerous motherly way that Liv knows so well because she was raised on it. “Spence, a word.” She says before darting out of the alley.
Spencer puts the kid back on the floor and instructs him to stay with Liv before pressing a soft kiss on her forehead and leaving after JJ. Liv looks at the kid and he looks at her.
He can’t be older than five years. He’s got chubby cheeks, Velcro sneakers with dinosaurs on them and a shirt with a jellyfish that says ‘tentacool!’
“What’s your name?”
“Mom says I shouldn’t talk to strangers.” He deadpans, and Liv nods.
“That’s... smart.” She bites her lip. “I’m Olivia. I work with your mom and your uncle Spencer.”
He tilts his head. “Are you a spy?” He asks with shiny eyes, and she smiles.
“Not yet.” She whispers dramatically.
He thinks. “You don’t look like a spy. You look like a princess. Your hair is shiny.”
Olivia is sure she’s going to cry. And she blushes. “Thank you, Henry.”
The kid gasps. “You know my name!”
“That’s because I’m a very good almost-spy-princess.” She confesses, tapping his nose. His eyes go wide in impression.
Henry nods solemnly like any of this makes sense. “Do you love Uncle Spencer?”
Liv blinks. “That’s a very big question for the candle aisle.” She clears her throat. “Do you love your Uncle Spencer?”
Henry nods again. “He reads me books with funny voices, and he does magic tricks for me.”
Liv smiles. Spencer says kids don’t like him, but Henry seems to love him. She’s incredibly interested in his ability to be the smartest person in every room he’s in and still always make himself less.
“How about we go to the toy aisle?” Liv proposes, and Henry’s face lights up. She takes the cart in one hand and the kid’s hand in the other and walks with him.
“Can your spy job get one of those?” He points at a dinosaur plushie. Liv kneels next to him.
“It can get two of those. Choose them.” He squeals a bit and methodically checks every option until settling in a blue stegosaur and a green triceratops. “Excellent choice, Henry.”
“This is Doctor Dino, and this is...” He looks around, finding inspiration. “Little Trice.”
“Very distinguished.” She nods. “Let’s go pay.”
Spencer’s eyes set on her when Liv and Henry walk towards the registry. JJ is moving her arms around. Her mouth moves a mile a minute, and Spencer just takes it silently. Liv can’t hear them, but she can imagine what’s the theme. JJ is mad Spencer didn’t tell her they were dating.
She didn’t know if she was getting a scolding next. JJ had been rather insistent on her letting herself fall in love again, particularly pushing the idea of Reid as a couple.
“Are you going to marry Uncle Spencer?” Henry’s little voice asks her. She feels like she might choke.
“I don’t know if marrying, but I like him a lot.” She gives him the toys. “Is that enough? Do you like that answer?” She asks.
“I think you should marry him. It would make him happy.” Henry decides, making Liv smile. He spots his mom and bolts towards her. “MOM, LOOK WHAT LIV GOT ME!”
Spencer seems relieved when Henry approaches them, knowing it means the end of the conversation. JJ looks at the dinosaurs and then at her. “Did you say thank you?”
“THANK YOU, LIV!” Henry’s arms wrap around Liv’s leg. She knows that if she weren’t wearing platforms, it would probably be around her hips. Spencer raises his brows, clearly amused by the way he’s half her height.
“You’re welcome.” She responds before looking at JJ, who’s still raising a brow. “Have I told you you look gorgeous today?” Liv smiles awkwardly.
“Emily is going to k-i-l-l you.” She deadpans, spelling the word so Henry can’t understand her.
“Oh, she totally will.” Liv agrees.
Spencer decides to write himself off the narrative. He crouches next to Henry, telling him facts about the dinosaurs he chose, smiling so widely and laughing at what the kid says, Liv smiles as well.
“I won’t tell anyone.” JJ assures. “Except Will. But I have to tell him. He’s my husband.”
Liv nods. “Thank you.”
JJ looks at his son. “Say goodbye to Uncle Spencer and Liv.”
Spencer stands up, holding Henry in his arms. Henry leans and presses a soft kiss on Liv’s cheek. She blinks, stunned.
“Goodbye, Liv.” He says with a shy smile.
And that’s it. She’s melted. Done. Fully puddle-on-the-floor levels of melted. Her throat gets tight and her chest swells as she watches Spencer put him on the floor and wobble a little on his feet before running back to JJ.
Spencer steps closer, still wearing that pretty smile of his. “He just told me he has a crush on you.”
Liv laughs, but it’s all breath, her hand fluttering to her chest like she’s trying to physically hold her in place. “He did?”
Spencer nods, taking her hand. “Apparently, you’re the prettiest girl he has seen. And the only one who buys him dinosaurs.”
Her heart could explode. “Well, those are very strong arguments.”
From behind, Henry waves dramatically. “BYEEE!”
Liv waves him goodbye, still holding Spencer’s hand.
JJ flashes them a suspicious look. One that promises more grilling later, but she’s smirking. Henry is just talking to her, holding one of his dinosaurs against his chest as his mom carries the other one.
“Where’s the cart?” Spencer asks and Olivia looks around.
“I... don’t know. Toys section?” She looks at him.
It was there.
Reid doesn’t drop her hand at any time, not even to pay, not even to carry the groceries to the car, even if it means that he takes two bags in one hand. They walk out of the store. Stopping on their tracks when they notice the rain. It’s not a small drizzle. Thick drops of water fall over the parking lot in the kind of rain that gets you soaked in less than a minute.
“When did this happen?” Liv asks, her keys already jiggling in Reid’s hand.
“I’m going to bring the car closer. I don’t want you to get wet... or run in those stilts.” He points.
“I can run on my stilts.” She frowns.
“Under the rain?” He raises a brow and she stays quiet. “I thought so. Prentiss would kill me if you fell and cracked your skull open and I had to call her from the ER.”
“You’re being dramatic.” She tilts her head, but he just presses a kiss on her forehead and jogs.
He gets drenched immediately. She watches him with something painfully fond curling in her chest.
She stands under the cover, one hand holding the grocery bag and the other still tingling from being in his. Liv waits, the littlest smile decorating her face as he watches Spencer drives. The wipers slash furiously across the windshield, and by the time he parks a few feet from her, his hair is plastered to his forehead.
She’s about to squeal and run when he hops off the car, opening an umbrella. Liv doesn’t have an umbrella on her car. She should buy an umbrella for her car. Spencer approaches her.
Liv narrows her eyes as he jogs toward her. “Where did you even get that?”
“Your glovebox.” He holds if up between them. “You have two. One still has a tag on it.”
She blinks. “I do?”
“You should inventory your car more often.”
He wraps an arm around her shoulder and guides her toward the car, umbrella tilted just enough to keep most of the rain off her.
Liv lets herself be taken. “You know this looks like you’re stealing.” She comments. “Like you have candy in the car, and I’m just really susceptible to sugar.”
“I’m rescuing you from certain pneumonia.”
“Oh, so now it’s pneumonia? I thought it was a skull fracture.”
“Could be both.” He mutters.
She slides into the passenger seat, soaked to the knees down but warm from the way he fusses over her. He tosses the umbrella in the back, runs a hand through his dripping curls, and starts the car. The heater hums to life.
“You can’t drive home in this weather.” He deadpans.
“I drive fine in the rain.” She turns to him slowly.
He shoots her a look that’s half amused, half exasperated. “Liv, statistically, car accidents increase by thirty percent when it rains heavily. And that’s just the start. People seem to become even dumber the moment a drop of water falls from the sky.” His hand finds hers, as per usual. “I live about ten minutes away, you can stay in my flat.”
Liv smiles. “Are you trying to take me to your bed, Doctor Reid?”
Spencer swerves slightly. “What? No! I mean... no... unless you want to get into my bed... I mean... Not like that... God. I meant like... rest...”
She grins so hard it hurts.
“Are you trying to steal my virtue? I’m a respectable young lady.” She points.
“No... I’m not trying to steal your virtue. Just... Statistically speaking...”
“Spencer.” She squeezes his hand slightly.
He peeks over, flustered and pink.
“I would love to go to your apartment.” She tilts her head. “Even if it means that my virtue is at risk.”
“I’ll protect it with statistical reasoning.” He says, and she smiles.
“That would definitely turn me on.” She teases.
He lets out a dramatic huff, slumping back in his seat. “You’re impossible.”
Liv looks at him. He’s obviously tired, exasperated, and she knows it is because of her. It has always been like this. People like her when they just meet her and then get tired because she’s always too much. Too much energy. Too much noise. Too much jokes and teasing. She doesn’t realize that people can’t stand her anymore until they snap.
It was like that with Dean. She would be talking about anything, laughing and teasing until he would just groan and tell her to shut up for a couple of hours. She wouldn’t tell him how bad it made her feel. He would say it’s because she gets annoying, and he’s probably right. She would just mask her tears in the shower.
She hates comparing Spencer to Dean, because she knows they’re not the same at all. But deep down she knows it’s only a matter of time before Spencer realizes the same things that Dean did.
So she goes quiet.
She turns her face to the window, watches the rain smear across the glass like watercolors in motion. Her face fades bit by bit, like it’s being peeled away. Spencer’s thumb runs absentmindedly over her knuckles.
Maybe she is too much.
The silence stretches. Two, three blocks go by in soft rain and windshield wipers.
“JJ says that when Henry gets quiet, it’s because there’s a problem brewing.” Spencer starts, she looks at him. “That’s how I feel right now. You scare me when you get quiet.”
“You just looked tired, so I figured it would be better if I shut up.” He responds, looking at their hands entwined over her lap.
“It has been a long week, darling. I’m not tired of you. I’m tired, in general.” He says gently.
She nods, staring out the window again. His words should reassure her. It has been a really long week, but she has been teasing him nonstop since they got out of the BAU, it’s natural that he’s tired of her, even if he’s too gentle to say it.
The car slows at a red light, and his hand tightens around hers.
“I used to talk all the time, you know.” He says. “Nonstop. People hated it. I didn’t know when to stop. I didn’t even know I was being annoying until they told me.”
Liv turns to him, with the air caught in her chest.
“I started keeping count.” He continues. “Of how many times someone told me to be quiet. I think I got thirty-seven before I stopped counting.” He swallows. “I thought that maybe if I just... shut up a little more. I’d be easier to be around.”
The light turns green. He drives.
“I like it when you talk. When you tease me. I like that you call me out when I’m being dramatic. I like it that you’re you.”
Liv’s lips tremble.
The silence that follows is different. Warmer. Softer. She blinks fast, trying not to cry.
“I used to cry in the shower.” She confesses. “So Dean wouldn’t hear.”
Her voice is barely above a whisper, her eyes still fixed on the windshield, blurred with rain and city lights. Liv had never told anyone that. She thought that if Emily knew she would’ve shot Dean ten times and happily gone to jail for it.
Spencer shakes his head slowly, almost to himself. His eyes are fixed on the road, but his mind is elsewhere.
She half-laughs, but it’s a crooked little sound. The kind that gets caught in your throat. “I hadn’t realized I was this... traumatized after Dean.” She says, desperately trying not to look at how real the confession feels. “I didn’t even think it was this bad, you know?” She murmurs. “Not until now, I thought it was just the cheating part that made me uneasy, but I keep being scared it will happen again and it’s not fair for you.”
Spencer doesn’t speak right away. He flicks on the turn signal and changes lanes, a smooth practiced movement, but his jaw tightens like he’s clenching back words too heavy for the moment. Then, finally, he exhales.
“It was bad.” He says quietly. “You just got really good at pretending it wasn’t.”
Liv blinks hard and then sighs. “God. I’m a psychologist. I should be able to cure myself or something. Five years of college and I can’t even talk myself out of my feelings.”
He pulls the car into the garage, the soft click of the door sealing them away from the rain outside. His fingers tighten around hers before he leans over and presses a soft kiss to her knuckles. The simple gesture melts something tight inside her chest.
“Liv.” He says quietly, voice steady and calm. “You know that the brain isn’t always on your side. Sometimes it betrays you, wiring you to protect yourself, but in the process, it tricks you into feeling stuck or broken. Even the most skilled psychologists can’t always out-think their own natural pathways.
She takes a deep breath.
He gives her hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s not about you curing yourself overnight. It’s about being patient and learning to work those parts of your mind that try to keep you safe, even when you don’t seem to be.”
She swallows, warmth blooming from the tough, from his words, from the quiet understanding between them.
“Is this free therapy I’m getting?” She jokes.
He lets out a small laugh, his eyes softening as he glances at her.
“I only give those when I want to steal someone’s virtue.”
Her eyes go wide. She gasps, half laughing. “I knew you brought me here just to steal my virtue!”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Guilty as charged.” Liv is chuckling now, which makes him smile. “Let’s get in warm clothes before one of us gets pneumonia.”
Liv nods. She grabs her go-bag from the most isolated place of the backseat and puts her purse on her shoulder, then steps out of the car. Neither of them say much as they walk upstairs, but it’s not an uncomfortable silence. It’s one of those rare, quiet moments where everything has already been said.
She kicks her boots off by her door, her strawberry shortcake socks find the cold wood of the floor as she steps inside.
“What the fuck?” She blurts, half-laughing, looking at the corner of the room. “Spencer, why does your fish tank look like the lobby of a five-star hotel?”
Spencer sets his keys down on the table with a sheepish little smile.
“That’s Socrates.”
Liv’s smile is huge. She walks over like she’s in a daze. The tank takes up an entire corner of his living room, talk, sleek, backlit like a museum piece. Inside, a long-finned beta fish glides dramatically between miniature marble columns and an underwater shipwreck. The thing has plants and an actual bridge.
“I thought you meant, like, a normal tank.” She says, kneeling in front of it. Socrates does a soft swirl past the glass, shimmering blue and red like royalty. “This guy is living better than me.”
Spencer chuckles, coming up beside her. “I got the tank on sale, and then...kind of got carried away.”
“Carried away?” Liv grins. She looks at him, and he’s smiling as well.
“Yes. This can’t be the same salary JJ’s using to raise a family. I can barely maintain my fish.”
Liv laughs softly. “Well.” She says, tracing doodles on the fish tank glass. “She probably has a greater salary than us and just hasn’t disclosed it.”
Spencer smirks. “Secret BAU bonus for being the most emotionally stable.”
“Totally.” She looks at him. “I would her give all my tax money if it meant she’d help me do my laundry.”
“Darling, I’m 99% sure you don’t even do your taxes.”
Olivia smiles, desperately trying not to have her heart beat faster at the word ‘darling’. It’s not the first time he’d called her that. It had been absent-minded, almost as if the word slipped out of his tongue. She fails miserably, the warmest feeling settles over her.
“That’s because doing your own taxes doesn’t make any sense.”
He huffs out a soft laugh through his nose. “You know, there’s a surprisingly logical system behind it.”
“Don’t.” Olivia says immediately, pointing at him without turning away from the fish tank. “Don’t try to explain taxes to me. I’ll simply hide from the IRS like normal people do.”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Fair enough. No tax lecture tonight. I was thinking I could order some orange chicken.”
Liv perks up. “That sound amazing.” She nods. “It’s fancy chicken nuggets”
“Socially acceptable chicken nuggets for adults.” He nods. “You should take a shower. You’re going to get sick.”
Liv smiles. “You got more wet than I did.”
“You shiver every time the weather is lower than seventy.” He smiles, Liv frowns. “Twenty degrees Celsius, learn imperial.” That makes Liv laugh.
“That’s because I’m Mexican, I’m a tropical bird.” She nods solemnly, trying to hold back a grin. “I need sunshine and warmth and super spicy food.”
“Well, I’ll get you a towel, tropical bird.” He offers, and she scoffs but searches in her bag her pajama set.
She takes a deep breath, looking at the sleepy Winnie the Pooh pajama pants. The worst part is that there is no trace of the matching shirt. She blinks. Of course, there is nothing sexy or even attractive in her go bag. It’s planned for the job, for crime scenes and emergencies.
Not for staying in her -whatever Spencer is to her- house.
She decides to do what she knows best. Fake confidence.
“Do you have a shirt that I can borrow?” She asks, he looks at the pants in her lap with a small smile.
“Nothing as cool as Winnie the Pooh, I fear.” He responds, Liv shrugs.
“There is nothing as cool as Winnie the Pooh.” She says matter-of-factly.
He disappears into his room for another moment before returning with a gray MIT shirt that looks like it’s been worn and washed a million times. She cannot picture him wearing it. She’s used to seeing him in shirts and ties, the concept of him in fratty clothes in college seems almost surreal.
“Thank you.” She receives it. “I’ll be fast. Hah, that’s what he said.” She laughs, making her way to the bathroom.
She takes a deep breath, asks herself if she should feel this comfortable this quickly. They hadn’t been going out for long, a month and three days. She had counted, gone was the snow that witnessed her first kiss, and now, the season began to prepare itself for the blooming of spring.
Taking a moment to snoop around, she makes sure there are no other beauty products lying around. Unable to believe that a guy this sweet to her doesn’t have another girl waiting for him at home, even though she already knew the answer from everyone. Spencer Reid didn’t have a girlfriend. At least not until now.
She looks in her toiletry bag for her cleansing oil. Figured that if he was going to see her in ridiculous pajama pants, her face without makeup wasn’t the most horrific sight tonight.
The warm water takes away remains of her stress. She tries to keep her promise of being quick as true as possible, using her own body wash and tying her hair in the highest bun possible so nothing of her presence might bother him.
The person that stares back at her in the mirror makes her insecure. All bare face and frizzy hair and nothing interesting. Not a remain of the polished perfect girl she tries to be. Alone in her apartment or in a hotel room, she wouldn’t mind looking like this. But here she was too self-conscious.
She repeats her affirmations like a mantra. ‘I’m pretty, I’m worthy. I deserve back the love I give.’ Squares her shoulders and tries to hype herself up. She has fought literal serial killers and somehow, she’s more afraid of letting Spencer see her like this.
The rain is still pouring heavily outside, but she seriously considers putting her work clothes back on and making up an excuse to drive back to her house, and maybe cry a little in the shower. She can call Emily and beg her to fake an accident so she can go, but to be fair, it only worked on bad dates, years ago.
“It’s just a guy.” She closes her eyes and whispers to herself.
So she goes out of the bathroom.
Spencer is sitting on the couch, sweatpants and a Caltech shirt, flipping a book she recognizes from his bag. Some thick volumes of neurological behavior that no sane person would read for fun. Not even her dad, and he’s a neurobiologist.
Spencer looks up at her. His eyes shine as the tiniest smile decorates his lips. “You look so beautiful.”
Liv’s first instinct it answering something close to ‘you’re so full of shit.’ But she forces herself not to. She takes a seat next to him. “What are you reading?”
“Your dad recommended it to me.” He starts, Liv groans and covers her eyes with her hands.
“You two are such nerds. I knew I shouldn’t have put you in a room together.”
“I stayed in touch with him after the holidays.” He confesses, making Liv cringe even more. “With your mom too, she sends me videos of her experiments.”
“Can I borrow your gun? I need to shoot myself.” She finally looks at him.
Spencer chuckles softly. “You’re being dramatic. Your parents are brilliant.” He closed the book, placing it gently on the coffee table.
Olivia groans again, this time with her entire body, sinking into the couch cushions like they might absorb her embarrassment.
“You know what they’re like.” She muttered. “My dad probably tried to recruit you for some underwater brainwave experiment. And my mom sends you her experiments like you’re her colleague.
“She calls me Doctor.” He adds, far too casually.
Liv drops her head onto the back of the couch. “Oh, my God. You’re part of the family now. They absorbed you. There’s no saving you.”
Spencer’s smile widened, and there was something soft in his expression that made her stomach twist. He watched her, not like a man politely listening to a joke, but like he was memorizing her every move, every sigh and wrinkle of her nose.
“My dad would have a field day with your brain. He’s capable of killing you and extracting it to preserve it in alcohol or some weird shit.” She mutters, shaking her head.
Spencer chuckles, clearly unfazed. “He actually asked me to send him regular updates.” He says. “Something about wanting to study my cognitive functions as a ‘practical case of advanced neuronal activity.”
Liv lets out another loud groan and hides her face in the couch cushion. “I take it back. I don’t need to shoot myself, just sedate me. Right now. I can’t survive this level of secondhand embarrassment.”
Spencer chuckles. “I thought it was sweet.”
“Of course you did.” She lifts her head just enough to squint at him. His smile is wide and beautiful. God, the jerk had to have a beautiful smile. “You probably sent him a brain scan already.”
“I offered.” He says, straight-faced. “He was really excited.”
“You just ruined my day.” She says as Spencer pulls her arm so she would sit again. “You just ruined my life. My life is ruined now.”
Spencer’s hands were still loosely holding her wrists, thumbs brushing lightly against her pulse points like he hadn’t noticed what he was doing it. Maybe he hadn’t.
“You’re being dramatic again.” He says softly.
“You’re being a nerd.” She shots back. “I can’t believe I’m dating a guy who corresponds my parents’ nerdiness. It’s my worst nightmare.”
He doesn’t answer, he’s looking at her with those bright puppy eyes and that beautiful smile and she feels her heart melt. The air between them changes. Slowed.
His gaze drops to her lips, and she feels the heat rising to her cheeks, the sting of something vulnerable blooming in her chest.
They’d kissed before. Sweet kisses, stolen kisses in-between cases, quiet ‘we shouldn’t’ kisses, chaste pecks in her apartment as they watched a silly movie. This felt domestic.
Spencer leaned in, slow and sure until their foreheads touched, his breath brushing against her lips. She liked how he had grown more confident in this, initiating kisses, being close to her without turning into a nervous puddle. It was charming and cute and it made her really happy.
He dips her chin higher to kiss her when the door knocks.
“The takeout.” He whispers against her mouth. He presses a soft, sweet kiss on her lips before standing up.
“This confirms that the commandments are real. God heard me mocking my parents and said, ‘The fourth commandment is there, bitch, no kiss for you.” She groans again. “It’s my fault.”
Spencer chuckles as he walks to the door. “Honor thy father and mother, and thy boyfriend who respects them.” He calls over his shoulder.
Liv freezes.
Boyfriend?
She blinks once, twice.
He said it so casually, like it was obvious. Like it had been true all along. Like he didn’t just toss a label into the air like it wouldn’t knock the air out of her and make her insides twist.
The room feels warmer. Or maybe it’s just her short-circuiting.
“I’m pretty sure that’s blasphemy.” She manages to croak, clutching a throw pillow like a life vest. “I think lightning might strike you for that.”
Spencer opens the door and gives the delivery guy one of those pretty smiles and offers a quiet thank-you before locking the door again. He isn’t even aware of what he just did to her. He places the food on the coffee table and opens the bag.
“I think that if lightning strikes me for being blasphemous, by association you’ll be stroked too.”
“Oh no, your pride is going to get us smited. That’s one of the seven deathly sins.” She frowns, faking concern.
Spencer glances at her, amused. “Smote.”
Liv frowns a little. “What?”
“The past tense of ‘smite’ is ‘smote’, sweetheart.” He corrects gently.
Liv blinks. “You did not just correct my grammar mid-blasphemy. That’s the gluttony they talk about in the Bible, Spencer Reid. The gluttony of ego.”
Spencer smiles and shakes his head, grabbing a piece of chicken with a fork. “I asked for cutlery.” He says as Liv breaks her chopsticks and easily eats from it. “Showoff.”
Liv giggles. He stares at her, eyes shining brightly at her every move, almost as if her taking a bite of rice was a fascinating accomplishment. He looks at her like she’s the most precious thing to exist.
Somewhere in the middle of the quiet dinner and the pouring rain, he talks. “I will take the couch.”
“Your couch is like a meter and a half long.” She points. “No need for a martyr complex. I’ll sleep on the couch. This is your house.”
“You’re the guest.”
“And you’re like two meters tall. I’m no scientist, but it is a big dissonance.” She points. “Plus, I can sleep anywhere.”
“Liv, I’m not making you sleep on the couch.”
She huffs secretly glad he’s actually a gentleman. “We could share.”
Spencer blinks. “The bed?”
“No, the couch.” She deadpans. “Yes, the bed, Spencer.”
There’s a moment. A beat where the words hang in the air like something sacred. Then Spencer smiles.
“And here I thought I was the one who was plotting to steal your virtue. Turns out you were planning to steal my decency all along.”
Olivia bursts of laughter.
“Lust is a capital sin, Liv.” He points. A huge grin decorating his face.
“I love it when you’re funny.” She says.
“I’m not funny.” He replies, but Liv shakes her head.
“You’re really funny.” She tilts her head. “Or I have a really broken humor, one of those.”
“Sweetheart. You have the most broken humor I’ve seen. I’m pretty sure that being called funny by you is more of an insult than a compliment.”
She presses her lips together to contain a smile and shakes her head.
It’s all too domestic. She brushes her teeth as she watches him walk into the kitchen, hears the water running, the clink of ceramic. So simple and kind, it makes her chest ache. When he comes back, he doesn’t say anything, just lays the softest kiss on her lips.
It’s barely there, just a breath of affection, but it makes her feel like the world slowed down just for her.
She blinks at him when he pulls back, stunned into silence.
“I’ll brush my teeth and then we sleep, okay?” He murmurs, she nods and he presses another kiss to her forehead. Her heart just melts.
She stares after him like he just proposed marriage.
His bed is wider than she expects. Cold sheets, stiff pillows, nothing like her own bed, but she doesn’t feel out of place. He’s sitting up, glasses on, still reading the thick book he was reading earlier. He looks annoyingly perfect.
Liv climbs under the covers and stares at the ceiling. “Is this weird?”
Spencer doesn’t look up. “No.”
She glances at him. “You hesitated.”
“I was turning the page.”
She scoffs lightly and turns to her side to face him. “You hesitated, Reid.”
He lowers the book slightly and meets her gaze. “It’s only weird if you make it weird.”
Her breath catches, but she nods.
There is no response to that, so she just lets him win. The heavy rain taps against the windows, soft and rhythmic. She watches his eyes move across the page, watches the way his brow furrows slightly, like whatever cognitive neuronal thing he’s reading its more important than sleep.
Eventually, she shuffles closer.
He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t even look up.
She lays her head on his shoulder, and he just flips a page in his book. “It’s this okay?”
“It is.” He responds.
A couple of seconds pass by before he gently starts carding his fingers through her hair. No expectations. No tension. Just care.
It’s so soft, it’s disarming.
Olivia is not even sure he notices he’s doing so. His eyes just keep scanning lines of text on the thick hardcover about something way above her pay grade. She doesn’t even pretend to understand it. She just closes her eyes and lets herself melt.
She doesn’t even realize when her breathing evens out.
And with a hand resting lightly over his ribs, she goes slack. The last thing she can acknowledge is a soft kiss being placed on the crown of her head.
Chapter 10
Notes:
Finally some smut. You're welcome (I've been playing hard to get for 10 chapters)
I just can't picture Spencer doing anything wild or them having other than super vanilla sex, I'm sorry if that's not what you were looking for.
Song: False God ofc.
WC:5030 words.
Chapter Text
Reid thinks it’s a miracle that no one has found out that Liv and he are dating.
They avoid each other as much as possible in the field, knowing that any stray look in a room full of profilers might give them away. He can’t help but look at her at any time. He figures that it won’t affect much, since everyone on the team already knows he has a huge crush on her.
“You look really happy lately.” Prentiss points in the jet back home looking at Liv.
All heads turn.
She doesn’t even flinch
“It’s pre-scripted, I swear.” Liv responds, drawing a chuckle from Morgan and Rossi and a pointed look from Hotch. “I didn’t know you liked me better when I’m miserable, Em.”
“You just got that ‘I’m drinking matcha and doing pilates and I have a boy holding my hand and making me laugh’ kinda vibe.” Emily points.
Reid does his best not to react, he figures that pretending jealousy it’s the best he can do. He doesn’t even remember how to be jealous of another guy.
“I just got over a really bad breakup. The whole marriage fiasco is over.” She leans back in her seat. “It feels like I can finally breathe.”
“At least you weren’t married. A divorce would’ve been ten times harder.” Morgan comments.
Liv looks at Rossi. “I’m sorry, I heard the word divorce, and I thought we were talking about Rossi’s seven wives.”
The whole jet erupts in laughter. Even Hotch smiles, though he tries to hide it behind a file.
Rossi blinks, completely unbothered. “It was only three. Three.” He clarifies, making Liv smile. “The other four ran before signing the contract.”
Liv grins and chuckles. “I get them.”
Reid watches her from the corner of his eyes, unable to help the small smile tugging at his lips. She looks light, like some invisible weight has been lifted off her chest. He knows it took a long time to get here. Spencer was still brushing away some of the insecurities her ex left her.
It was all worth it when he felt the weight of her, curled into him at night. Her cheek against his chest and soft ‘goodnight’ whispers.
“Are you sure you’re not seeing anyone?” Prentiss narrows her eyes.
“Oh yeah, some bikers. Big ones. Full of sperm.” Liv jokes, JJ laughs and Prentiss rolls her eyes, but Reid doesn’t seem to recognize the reference. “My pilates group four times a week.” Liv says as if it’s obvious. “Highly recommended, by the way, you should come with me someday.”
It’s almost like she knows the mention of any sport will catch Morgan’s interest. She masters topic changes like no other.
“You do Pilates now?” Morgan perks up.
“Did you not hear the glow-up monologue?” Liv resorts. “I’m flexible as hell now.”
“I’m gonna need proof.” Morgan teases, Liv smiles and Reid knows she’s going to match his vibe.
“Briefing room in twenty?” Liv grins.
“Morgan, Ortiz. Don’t make me summon another HR reunion for the whole team.” Hotch cuts the vibe, Liv chuckles and Morgan smiles.
The conversation moves to a new tangent, but Prentiss’s gaze lingers. She watches Liv pull out her phone, thumbs flying over it and a small smile tugging at her lips. Then, to everyone’s surprise, she giggles.
Prentiss’ eyebrows shoot up. “Okay, that’s new. You just giggled.”
“And?” Liv asks, without looking up.
“You giggled.” Prentiss repeats with a grin. “And you have been doing that a lot lately. Who are you texting?”
The whole team’s attention shifts instantly. Reid’s stomach tightens, just for a moment. The laugh wasn’t for him. The text wasn’t from him. And that little lurch in his chest. That stupid pang of jealousy creeps before he can reason it away.
His jaw clenches, and Reid’s eyes meet JJ’s. She just shrugs.
Liv, of course, is completely unbothered. She doesn’t even hide her phone, just looks up with an unimpressed expression. “You’re going to feel really dumb in about two seconds.” She gives her the phone.
“Oh, I doubt it.” Prentiss smirks, taking it.
Reid’s heart beats heavily against his chest. It’s irrational, but the thought of Liv texting someone else, flirting with someone else, sends his mind into overdrive.
Maybe it was a mistake. Keeping things private. Maybe she’s bored with sneaking around. Maybe...
Prentiss blinks.
Then snorts. “Oh, my God.”
Liv bursts with laughter. “My cousin got married in Vegas a month ago. To a girl who thought a prenup was a yoga position. He’s getting a divorce now. His third divorce. And he’s fighting for the custody of her snake, Brenda, claiming he has grown attached to her.” Liv explains, holding back a laugh.
“Is your cousin Rossi?” JJ asks, making the jet burst into laughter.
“Can you imagine?” Prentiss turns to see her.
“The texting and giggling over the phone is me gossiping with my mom and my sister.” Liv leans back in her seat. “He wore Crocs to the divorce hearing, saying those are his lucky shoes.”
Reid meets JJ’s stare from across the aisle, she raises her brows at him, some kind of message ‘See? I told you she wasn’t cheating’
“We are documenting this divorce like it’s a Telenovela. I’m having the time of my life.” Liv grins, and his heart skips a beat like it always does when she looks this pretty. "This has been the most interesting gossip in my family since I called off my wedding."
"Was it gossip in your family?" JJ blinks.
"Sure, I conducted it." Liv smiles.
And he remembers. A month ago, in her apartment, as she made chai cookies from a recipe she found on TikTok, she had told him that her cousin has gotten married in ‘Reid’s land’, which meant Las Vegas. She had laughed at it, even showing him the horrible wedding pictures with the Elvis impersonator as an official. She had explicitly said, ‘They’re going to last a month’ and indeed, they did.
The conversation thankfully dies. Prentiss and Morgan start discussing if a hot dog is a sandwich, Olivia is back to gossiping with her mom, and JJ is reading Liv’s conversation over her shoulder, even though he’s pretty sure all the messages are in Spanish. Rossi is just typing something on his phone.
Spencer looks at Liv. Radiant with amusement, eyes glimmering with mischief and diversion. He keeps wondering constantly how he managed to get her. Someone this perfect is clearly out of his league.
It’s like she floats in her own orbit, a chaotic one full of life. And somehow, she let him in.
The jet lands smoothly and, like always, everyone disperses quickly, eager to return to normalcy, even if just for a day or two. Spencer grabs his go-bag and walks to his car when his phone buzzes with a message from Liv.
Liv: ‘Wanna come in? I’m cooking dinner’
He smiles and texts her immediately.
Spencer: ‘On my way.’
He keeps wondering if Olivia is satisfied with their relationship.
He had started to drop the ‘boyfriend’ bomb after it slipped off his tongue. He figured it would be easier to just play confident about it rather than making things uncomfortable for both. Thankfully, she hadn’t minded. The ‘going-around-and-find-out’ phase had blurred into an actual relationship in the span of two months.
But he also knew Liv was used to a different kind of relationships. More physical ones.
He had thought about it, then immediately, gotten afraid at the idea of Liv believing he would only want her for her body; and then pushed the thought as far from his mind as possible.
But after Morgan’s joke about her flexibility and her obvious teasing answer, he actually wondered if Olivia was frustrated due to the lack of sex in their relationship.
He wasn’t a sexual person. Often forgetting it even existed. After the couple experiences he had during grad school, he had barely thought about it. Until now. He was both equally scared and thrilled by the idea of having sex with Liv.
He knocks on her door.
She opens less than one minute later. She has changed into comfier clothes. Lilac sweatpants and a gray MIT sweatshirt he was sure she just stole from his closet. Funny enough, he didn’t care.
“Didn’t even try to play hard to get.” She teases, opening the door for him to enter.
“I’m a slut.” He shrugs, making her burst on laughter.
She gets on her tiptoes and forgets that she’s much shorter without her usual platforms. He has to lean a bit for her to be able to press a kiss on his lips.
The kiss is soft and quick, the Kind of casual affection that still made something in his chest flutter.
It was stupid. Ridiculous even. He was a grown man with multiple degrees and enough field experience to handle any kind of tension. Except this one, the one where Olivia just pressed her lips on his like it was normal and logical.
She makes her way into the apartment, and Spencer follows her. Something is already cooking, smelling awesome. Liv resumes her cooking like it’s natural just as he sits in one of the stools.
“I didn’t strike you as the cooking type.” He comments, watching her enamored. She gasps and takes being offended.
“Take that back, Spencer Reid.” She points the wooden spoon at him “My grandma raised me to become a housewife. I just chose my mom’s way and studied.”
Spencer raises both hands in surrender, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I take it back. You’re fiercely domestic.”
“Exactly.” She grins and turns back to the stove, stirring whatever heavenly thing is simmering.
The pan sizzles as she adds something else, and the kitchen fills with the sound and smell of warmth. Spencer should probably help, but watching her move so comfortably in her space, even barefoot and in stolen clothes feels like a privilege. Like he’s witnessing the side of her no one at the BAU gets to see.
Still, he feels the uneasiness.
“Can I ask you something?” He starts, and Liv raises her brows.
“Sure.” She says, not looking up from the stove.
He fidgets with the edge of the seat, unsure of how to phrase what’s been swirling in his head. “Do you want to have sex?”
She freezes.
Then she turns very slowly and blinks at him.
And then she laughs. Loud and unrestrained, throwing her head back with a sound that echoes through the apartment. Spencer stands there, bewildered, cheeks already turning pink.
“I... I was expecting any question but that one.” She says through her laughter, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “I really thought you were going to ask me if I had committed arson or started doing my taxes.”
“Did you?” He mumbles.
“No, and yes.” She frowns. “Not necessarily in that order.”
He shifts his weight, flustered but still trying to hold her gaze. “It’s just... I’ve been thinking. And I don’t know how to say things that I think in the right way. But I care about you... And I don’t want to pretend I’m not... well. Interested.”
She blinks. “We’re still talking about sex, right?”
He nods once. She softens immediately. The mischief in her eyes dims before she turns off the stove and walks over to him, closing the distance between them.
“Sex doesn’t have to mean anything in a relationship.” She brushes his hair away from his face. “I’ve had sex that meant nothing. I’ve had relationships where it was the only way we would communicate.”
“Because you date idiots.”
She laughs. “Because I date idiots.” She agrees. “I don’t want you to think we must have sex just because we’re dating. And I don’t want you to feel coerced into having sex just because you think I might want to.”
Spencer nods, swallowing thickly. She can see the way his fingers twitch slightly, the tension in his shoulders even if he tries to keep the expression neutral. That’s the thing with dating a profiler. She notices everything. Spencer reassures himself. It’s not like she’s saying no, she’s just making sure he wants to.
“I know you’re not... built for casual.” Liv says softly, brushing her knuckles over his wrist. “You’re deliberate with your feelings, and your thoughts, and your everything. That’s one of the things I like about you. So if you’re bringing this up, I know it’s not random. And I want you to know you don’t owe me anything.”
“I know.” He admits after a moment.
“Good. I want you to feel safe.” She says. “And comfortable. And wanted. Not pressured. If we do this is because we both want to. Not because you think you have to prove something.”
“I’m not trying to prove anything.” He responds, and Liv smiles and nods a little bit. She leans and lays the softest kiss on his lips.
“Help me finish dinner and we’ll talk about it, okay?” She asks.
“I’m pretty sure your ancestors will kill me if I touch the salsa.” He responds, standing up from his seat.
“They will kill me. I didn’t add any spice on it. My Mexican blood is boiling.”
Still, he helps. He went from not seeing Liv as a cooking person to not being able to believe she was this good of a cook. They dine in silence, discussing Mormonism after Liv mentioned started watching a reality show about Mormons. Olivia paid attention to everything he said, gasping at special details and frowning at others.
It was easy. Uncomplicated.
They cleaned the kitchen in the same rhythm. He washes, she dries. It’s domestic and almost sickeningly sweet.
Spencer lets his hands linger in the warm water a little longer than necessary, watching the way Liv moves around the kitchen, humming under her breath a Spanish song about roses, occasionally tapping her fingers on the counter.
She’s beautiful, and he feels it in the quietest sense of the word. Not the sharp, heartbreaking kind of beautiful, but the slow, certain kind. The kind you want to wake up next to for the rest of your life.
When the last dish is put away, and the sink is dry, Liv stretches with a satisfied sigh and says. “I feel so unsexy.”
He turns to her immediately. “You look so pretty.”
She snorts. “I didn’t say ugly, Spencer, I say unsexy.” She glances down at herself. The oversized MIT sweatshirt, the lilac sweatpants, the bare feet. Spencer still believes she’s the most beautiful woman he’d seen, but he doesn’t push it. “There is a difference.”
He blinks. “I... yeah. I guess there is.”
She tilts her head thoughtfully, then pokes his chest. “Give me ten minutes, don’t move, Wonderboy.”
Spencer doesn’t even get a chance to reply before she storms out of the room with her phone. She disappears into her bedroom and then her bathroom, the door clicking shut behind her.
Spencer stands in the middle of the kitchen, trying to calculate what ten minutes could possibly mean in this context. He hears stuff happening in her bathroom, a dirty reggaeton playlist and the shower running. It takes her fifteen minutes and seven seconds to finally exit the bathroom, which is about an hour less than he expected.
His eyes lift up from the article that was reading. Breath hitching in his lungs when he sees her. She’s wearing a little makeup and a set of black lingerie. His brain stops immediately.
She walks slowly toward him.
“You okay, Doc?” She teases.
“I’m pretty sure my IQ just dropped to thirty.” He blinks, making her smile.
“That’s still smarter than most of my exes.” She takes his hands. He doesn’t even realize when he stands up and just follows her wherever she’s going. “It’ll be easier in my bed.” She says gently, and he nods. “And my mattress is really comfortable.”
“A good mattress is important.” He gulps, eyes wide behind his lashes. “You spend a third of your life asleep. The wrong one can cause chronic spinal misalignment, muscle pain, even contribute to long-term postural issues. Memory foam with proper lumbar support reduces pressure on the sacral area...”
She turns to look at him slowly, mischief already climbing her lips. “Are you trying to get me off by talking about lumbar support, Doctor Reid?”
He blinks. Opens his mouth. Closes it again. “I... wasn’t trying to.”
She grins. “It’s working.”
His ears turn bright red. “That was not... my intention.”
They reach her bedroom, and she turns to face him, still holding his hands, gaze searching his face. “Can you lay on the bed, please?” She asks with a soft smile. His eyes don’t leave hers as he does. “Can I ask you something now?”
He nods immediately.
“Safe to assume you haven’t done this a lot?” She asks softly, not mocking, not teasing, just checking.
He exhales. Watching her climb into bed with him. “A couple of times. In college.”
Liv tilts her head. “Didn’t you go to college when you were like... twelve?”
His eyes flick to the ceiling like he’s doing the math. His brain suddenly forgot about everything that isn’t the impressive woman in front of him. She moves over his lap, placing a knee in each side of his hips. “I was... in my third PhD.”
She nods, carefully undoing his tie. “So... fifteen?”
“Twenty.” He corrects gently. “I was twenty.”
She smiles. “That’s better, I was getting worried.” She says as she completely removes the fabric around his neck. “Is this fine?” She asks, swirling her hips over him. His erection is painful, and he’s in desperate need of doing something about it, but still he nods. “Then why aren’t you touching me? I don’t bite. Unless you’re into that.”
He’s not even sure he heard what she said. “You’re so beautiful.” He tells her and she smiles.
His hands hover, unsure, fingers curling in the air between them like he’s waiting for permission to breathe. She notices it instantly. She’s a profiler. And she’s Liv.
With a gentle smile, she leans forward and presses a soft kiss to his jaw, letting her hips linger just enough to make him shiver.
“You can touch me, Spencer,” She whispers, wrapping her fingers around his wrist and guiding his hand to her waist, where the warm skin meets silk. “Wherever you want. You don’t have to ask.”
He swallows thickly. His fingers splay across her waist like he’s memorizing every dip and curve, reverent and slow. His touch is light, like he’s afraid she’ll break.
His hands are tentative. Still hesitant, even if he doesn’t voice it.
She leans back just enough to meet his gaze and takes his hand again, slower this time, placing carefully over her breast, just above the lace. His eyes widen and she huffs a laugh.
“Like this.” She murmurs, guiding his touch. “I want you to touch me, Spencer.”
He’s still not confident enough to do any further, Liv licks her lower lip.
She smiles, thumbs brushing against his flushed cheeks. “You’re so handsome, Spencer.”
He shakes his head instantly. “I’m not.”
You are. “She cuts him off gently, her voice unwavering. “You’re handsome, and you have the most gorgeous smile.”
That makes him smile, a soft, bashful thing that spreads slow over his face like sunlight.
He sits up and kisses her, different. Less cautious. Still gentle, but steadier.
He reaches behind her back, his fingers meet the clasp of her bra.
But it doesn’t budge.
He tries again.
Still nothing.
She tilts her head at him, clearly amused.
“I thought you had a PhD in engineering.” She comments, her tone light but smug.
“I do!” He says, mildly panicked. “This is just a complex system.”
“It’s a clasp.” She deadpans.
“I’ve built robots with fully functioning servo-motors.” He mumbles, concentrating way too hard. “Why is this the one mechanism I can’t...”
She reaches back and undoes it with a casual flick.
Spencer’s mouth parts slightly, betrayed by basic lingerie.
“Don’t worry.” She says grinning. “You’re still the smartest man I’ve ever dated.”
“The bar is on the floor.” He says, as he takes the bra from her and toss it in the floor.
She doesn’t have time to respond before his lips close around her nipples and a soft moan erupts from her mouth, her fingers grasp the hair on his nape.
“Is this okay?” He asks, and she nods, so he just keeps doing it.
She lazily undoes the buttons of his shirt, her hips keep moving over him and it’s becoming too much for him. She hasn’t even finished taking off his shirt when he’s already unbuckling his belt, Liv moves to give him space to take away his pants.
“God, you’re perfect.” He mutters, pulling her for a kiss. It’s desperate and hungry and it has Liv moaning softly against his lips.
Her hand tentatively applies pressure over his erection, and he groans, Liv smiles a bit before his lips find the soft skin of her neck and her head falls back with a whimper.
“Please tell me you have condoms.” He asks in between kisses.
She moans softly again. “Yeah, it’s...” She moves, crawling over the bed to her drawer.
Spencer shakes his head, looking at her ass. Like every curve of her body is settling into the synapses of his memory. He’s never going to forget this, and God, he’s grateful for that.
She finds the box and tosses it lightly onto the bed, then turns her head and catches him staring.
“Are you okay?” She teases, one brow raised, but her voice is softer now.
He blinks. “I’m just... taking mental notes.”
“Of my ass?”
“It’s an amazing ass.” He defends himself, making her laugh.
Her hands trace the waistband of his boxers, and she carefully removing. Blinking at the sight of his dick.
“That’s not fitting inside of me, I’m telling you from now.” She comments. “I like to be challenged, but one can only be challenged so much.”
“Do you want to stop?” Spencer asks, but she shakes her head.
She bites her lip as she methodically removes the wrapper and places it around her erection. She removes her underwear and he takes a deep breath as she goes back to straddle him. Her lips part open as she positions him at her entrance. They both moan softly when she slowly sinks into him. She’s wet and so tight Spencer has to close his eyes in order to keep his cool..
“Fuck, that’s deep.” He comments, eyes closing as she takes a moment to take it all in. “Oh, my God.”
She moves her hips again, picking up a soft pace. His hands find her hips with a bit more confidence this time. Her skin wars under his touch, almost like she’s lighting up for him.
He finally understands sex. Why people chase the feeling. Why whole novels and wars and civilizations hinge on intimacy. Why people go insane over sex. It’s feral, and it took every goddamn thought away from his head, and nothing would ever be able to cause the same rush of adrenaline in his body as Liv’s soft moans and whimpers did.
Spencer couldn’t help it. His mind observed as much as it felt. The slight arch of her back, the tremor in her thigh, the dilation of her pupils. Those aren’t just signs. They’re data. Patterns. He reads them like it’s a language he’s been studying for years.
Her breath catches. He registers the hitch, times it with the soft gasp that followed when he kissed just beneath her jawline. Erogenous zone, high density of mechanoreceptors. He files it away instinctively, even as his hands move with care and purpose. Not because he needs the knowledge, but because every reaction of hers feels like a discovery. Something sacred.
She was still on top, guiding the pace, but he let his hands trace the lines of her body with quiet reverence. He pressed his mouth to the spot just below her ear again. Auriculotemporal nerve, rich in sensitivity. His fingers curl tighter around his shoulders and he takes mental note.
He didn’t need her to say anything. He’s sure he notices the buildup before she even did. The drift in her breathing, the tension tightening in her abdomen, the way her hips began to stutter. He knows where to touch. He reaches for her clit, tracing soft circles around it.
And then it happened.
"Fuck!" The softest moan escaped her lips. Genuine. Unrehearsed. Her body trembles, eyes fluttering and Spencer holds her. She looks at him afterward, blinking like she remembered where she was. “What the fuck?”
Spencer is staring at her with a smug smile. “That was an orgasm.”
“I know what an orgasm is.” She points.
“Doesn’t look like it.” He deadpans. She rolls her hips again; the movement earns a groan from his throat.
“When was the last time you had sex, you said?”
“Ten years.” He gulps as when she starts to pick up a pace again. “More or less.”
“How did you...?”
Spencer tilts his head. “Statistically, about 65% of women don’t experience orgasm from penetration only... I just changed the approach.” He says and she blinks.
“I love it when you talk dirty.” She jokes.
“It was merely an observation.” He raises a brow, moving a piece of hair behind her shoulders to kiss her neck again.
“Those never stopped me before.” She points, her head falls back as she moans softly and sweetly.
Her lips find his, and she kisses him desperately. His hands trace her waist up and down while she increases the pace. He parts the kiss just enough to appreciate her. She’s the most stunning thing he has seen. Hair slightly messy from where his fingers are threading, lips slightly parted as she moans softly, brows slightly furrowed. Her eyes gleam in the most beautiful way, and he asks himself when he did he become so lucky?
Liv kisses her jaw down his neck, and his whole body shutters. “Liv.” He says, almost in a whisper.
“Yes?” She asks, sucking softly in a spot on his neck that feels nice... too nice.
“I’m going to... Fuck, I’m going to come.” He whispers, voice roughened by sensations. His hips beginning to buck upward, desperate to match her rhythm. Liv moans.
His fingers tighten around her skin as his lips find the spot that had made her whimper earlier. It works, she tightens slightly around her. He sucks on her earlobe and Liv whimpers needy.
“Darling, I want you to come.” He whispers in her ear.
“You want me to come?” She smiles.
“I need you to.” He responds. “I’m not above begging.” He responds.
His fingers trace soft circles deliberately around her clit, and her body trembles over his. She starts muttering something in Spanish and somehow, that’s the hottest thing he’s experienced.
“You feel so good, Olivia.” He whispers, kissing her neck. “You’re so perfect.”
Olivia’s breath hitches. His fingers, slow but focused. His voice is raw and broken and begging. He would give her everything. She gasps, her thighs tremble, her fingers dig into his shoulders as another wave crashes through her. It’s slower this time, softer, and it blooms from the center outward.
He groans then, body stiffening as the first wave hits him. It starts in low in his spine and spreads out across his body. His brain stutters as his body arches off the bed. His mouth parts with a soft cry as he pulses inside her, forehead pressed to her shoulder like he’s clinging to something sacred.
His brain goes blank for a long moment, almost like it forgot how to process his surroundings.
She smiles at him and presses the softest kiss on his lips. His head falls to her forehead. “How do you feel, Wonderboy?” She asks.
“Amazing.” He laughs.
Liv sighs and moves to fall on the bed next to him, Spencer stands up and gets rid of the condom before going back to bed. She’s already under her blanket, which Spencer would only describe as a big gray hairy monster, still, when she makes space, he lays next to her.
Contentment settles over him when Liv starts tracing doodles over his skin. “You need to go pee.” He comments.
“Wow. Romanticism isn’t dead.” She jokes.
“I’m serious.” He lifts himself in one of his arms. “It’s important. Prevents UTIs. Bacteria can migrate up the urethra. It’s especially common after sex, and women are more prone because of anatomical...”
“You’re not letting this go, aren’t you?” She asks, brushing some of his curls away from his forehead.
He shakes his head and kisses her shoulder. “Nope. Go pee. Please.”
She grunts loudly while getting out of bed, almost as if the petition of standing up was a burden. Spencer stayed where she left him, sheets pooled down on his hips, his fingers playing absently with the hem of her pillowcase. He looked dazed, like someone who’d just been hit with something so beautiful he wasn’t quite sure how to carry it.
When she came back, her cheeks were pink and damp from washing her face. “Happy now, Dr. Reid?”
He gives her a sleepy grin. “Very.”
She climbs back and lies on the bed. Spencer finds his way until he’s resting on her chest. She pulls the blanket up to their shoulders. His arm draped over her stomach, and he hums as he settles into her warmth.
After a long, quiet moment, Spencer whispers. “I’m so glad you joined the BAU.”
Liv’s fingers paused in his curls, then resumed gently. “Yeah?”
He nodded against her skin; voice softer now. “I wouldn’t have met you if you didn’t.”
She blinked, heart skipping. He wasn’t just saying it. He meant it, fully and deeply.
“I’m the happiest I’ve ever been since we started dating.” He adds. “In my whole life.”
Her breath caught, and then, she kisses the top of his head, hugging him a little tighter.
“Me too.” She whispers. “So much.”
Spencer hums, curling closer to her, like he physically needed to touch her to survive.
Chapter 11
Notes:
Sooo, im in exam season which means that idk when I'm publishing next chapter. I have a lot of ideas tho. Enjoy Reid getting his first head ever muak.
Song: Tears by Sabrina Carpenter bc why not.
WC 4982 words.
Chapter Text
The California heat clings to them as the surrounding music and loud noises invade their heads. The team had been in an excruciating case for the last two days. Olivia wouldn’t tell anyone she was glad they finally had a case somewhere where it wasn’t still cold as hell.
Three sex workers and six strippers had been found dead just the week before. The team seemed to be painfully underwater. Not a single lead to what was actually happening.
Morgan and Olivia walk confidently towards Hotch, Prentiss and Reid in the police department. “How did it go in the strip club?” Hotch asks.
“Liv got offered a job three times.” Morgan comments.
“Apparently, I just have ‘the look’. Whatever that is.” She crosses her arms.
“It also didn’t help that you befriended every stripper in the place.” Morgan tilts his head and she smiles.
“Lovely ladies.” Liv nods. “You? How did it go with the sex workers?”
“Reid kept getting propositioned by every prostitute we talked to.” Hotch comments. Liv’s eyes meet Reid’s, and she notices panic slip onto his face.
“And the ones we didn’t talk to also propositioned him.” Prentiss points.
“I didn’t encourage them!” Reid clarifies in the sweetest of nervous rants.
Olivia barely holds back her laugh, her lips press together as she glances over at Morgan, biting the joke forming in her head.
“Say it.” Morgan dares. “Please Liv, say it.”
“If they’re the ones propositioning, does it mean the service is free?” Olivia says, holding back a laugh.
A beat passes, and then the whole team crackles with laughter. Reid’s ears turn pink.
“You would think so.” Rossi comments before sipping his coffee.
“Man!” Liv crosses her arms, feigning a sigh. “Some people are lucky, aren’t they?”
Prentiss sniffs. “I think I’m getting sick.”
Reid glances at her. “Actually, it could be the weather shift. The change from Virginia’s spring temperature to San Jose’s heat. Plus going back and forth from air-conditioned buildings to the outside can cause your nasal passages to dry out and make you feel off.”
Prentiss tilts her head. “You’re saying I’m sick because of the thermostat?”
“Well... not exactly but...”
“Liv.” Prentiss interrupts. “Measure my temperature.”
Olivia’s face lights up like Christmas morning. “I’ve been waiting my whole life for this moment. I’ve been acing my Mexican mom training.”
Olivia steps closer, resting her palm briefly on Prentiss’s cheek before dramatically leaning and pressing a kiss to her forehead. She closes her eyes for effect.
“Hmmm.” She hums seriously. “Thirty-seven degrees. Perfect. Not a fever in sight.”
Rossi blinks. “I didn’t know you could do that with your lips.”
Prentiss smiles. “That’s what she heard last night.” She fires back without missing a beat. Olivia bursts with laughter.
Across from them, Reid coughs dramatically, like the breath just got caught in his lungs and he forgot that breathing is the most basic action of the human body. Liv has to keep her cool. He’s going to give them away any minute.
She looks at him. “You catching a cold too, Wonderboy?” Liv’s voice is playful but teasing.
Morgan grins, eyes sparkling with mischief. “With all that exposure, I’m surprise you’re still standing, Pretty Boy. You really know how to handle the heat.”
“Yeah, I heard that too last night.” Liv responds, and Prentiss and she burst into a silly bubble of laughter.
“Damn, I sometimes forget that Prentiss literally created a smaller version of her.” Morgan crosses his arms, looking at them.
“Not only smaller. Evilier as well.” Rossi nods, still sipping his coffee. “More mischief packed into someone who has wear four-inch platforms to be respected.”
“The evil is more concentrated.” Reid comments.
Liv rolls her eyes but smiles. She would never get mad at being compared to Prentiss. She had taught her everything. From basic profiling to lying and deception. A twisted, fucked-up version of a maternal figure. Prentiss had been the one to insist that Liv joined the FBI, who had helped her study for every single Academy test. Who had supported her through her VICAP beginnings, who had put in a word for her to join the BAU.
Being compared to Prentiss would always be a compliment.
Hotch appears out of nowhere, and Liv asks herself when did he leave. “We’re done here for the night.” He announces with his usual calm authority. “It’s late. Get some rest. We reconvene in the morning.”
Prentiss sighs, stretching her arms. “Finally, some peace.”
The team begins to gather their things, the exhaustion for the last two days etched on every face. Liv catches Reid’s eye across the room. A small, knowing smile passes between them. A silent acknowledgment of their routine during these cases.
At the hotel, the team disperses to their rooms. The usual clatter and chatter fades away, leaving a quiet calm that only the late night can bring. Olivia hops into the shower, taking her sweet time washing away all the stress with the warm water.
She’s applying her moisturizer when there is a soft knock on her door, just as he’s been doing for nearly a month now. She opens it without hesitation, a relief and warmth in her eyes.
He slips inside, closing the door gently behind them.
Olivia smiles. “Hi.”
He smiles back, sheepishly and boyish and her heart beats much faster. “Hi.” He responds.
She gets on her tip-toes to kiss him. She misses the comfort of their apartments. Not hiding away, not putting on the professional mask. It’s not that she doesn’t love her job. She does, and she loves the team, but it’s draining.
“Long day.” He comments as her arms wrap around his torso.
“The longest.” She responds, the sound muffled. She snorts. “That’s what she said.”
Spencer pulls away just enough to see her. He moves her hair behind her ears and cups her face, kissing her sweetly. Those kinds of kisses that disarm her. She rounds her arms around his neck, wanting to pull him as close to her as possible.
They emerge in the same routine they had had for the last month. Spencer lies on the bed, his eyes roaming over the book in his hands, Liv rests her head on her chest, feeling his heartbeat against her ear. She takes a deep breath, appreciating his mere presence. A smile creeps on her face before she asks him what she's sure, is the most stupid question he will ever hear.
“Would you love me if I was a worm?” She asks, he chuckles and shakes his head. “You wouldn’t?”
“What kind of worm?” He presses, amused.
Liv gasps, offended. “Does it matter?”
“I like peripatus. They are cute worms.” He says with a fond smile. “Velvet worms. They shoot slime to catch prey. Pretty fascinating creatures, actually.”
She laughs, squeezing his hand. “Only you could make worms sound adorable.
Spencer continues. “And their segmented bodies. The way they move. Their evolutionary position between annelids and arthropods...”
A sudden sharp knock interrupts them. Liv freezes.
“Shit.” She sits up, heartbeat instantly spiking. Spencer blinks. Setting the book down. Her voice is barely above a whisper. “Bathroom. Now.”
He doesn’t argue. He scrambles, grabbing his tea mug and slipping into the bathroom.
"Ortiz?" Hotch's voice breaks through.
Hotch knocks again as she throws an Olivia Rodrigo sweatshirt over her pajama blouse. “One second!”
She opens it, keeping her expression neutral.
Hotch stands there, expression unreadable.
“Another body has been discovered. We leave in twenty.”
Liv nods. “Got it.”
Hotch doesn’t move. “Have you seen Reid? He’s not answering his door.”
She blinks. “He might be asleep?”
He shakes his head. “His room is dark. Reid is afraid of the dark.” He responds. Pressing his phone to his ear.
Just then...
A ringtone erupts from her room. Reid’s phone flashes with the name ‘Hotch’, next to an astrophysics textbook that she’s clearly not reading. Liv presses her lips together. Hotch’s stare goes to her, then to the phone, to the book, and then back to her.
“Right..." He blinks. "We’ll talk about it later. Tell him to get ready.”
“Yes, sir.” She says, just as he’s walking across the aisle.
She closes the door and presses her forehead to the cold wood. Reid appears in the doorway, his hair is a mess and she’s pretty sure he just used her straightening iron in a couple of strands of his hair.
“There goes our cover.” She mutters to herself.
He grins. “I guess I’m not so good at hiding.”
Olivia takes a deep breath but gets on her tiptoes and still presses a soft kiss to his cheek. Reid leaves the room with Hotch still across the aisle. They figure it doesn’t really matter anymore. They will have to talk to him and pray that he tells no one.
Liv seriously considers throwing herself from the stairs in order not to meet the team. She figures it will not do any good. So she braces an explanation even though the most obvious one is that they're dating.
But when she goes downstairs and meets the rest of the team, no one says anything, not even Hotch. They just leave in peace. Reid and Olivia don’t dare to even look at each other. They continue their jobs in the most professional way. Feeling the pressure of Hotch’s knowledge all over them.
Two days later, with the unsub behind bars and when neither Reid nor Olivia had touched each other, not even for a chaste peck. They fly back home to Virginia. Reid is still on his textbook while Liv reads a romance book she had just bought in the airport.
“Hey, pretty girl. What are you reading?” Morgan sits across from Liv and Prentiss.
“Porn.” Prentiss responds without missing a beat. Liv holds back a laugh.
“Oh no. This one is whimsical. It’s about faeries.” Liv clarifies.
“My bad.” Prentiss adds. “Faerie porn.”
Liv smiles and nods. “Pretty much.”
She can feel Reid’s stare from across the jet. She’s not brave enough to meet it. So she puts her headphones back on and forces herself to pay attention to the book. After three hours, when the jet lands and everyone disperses tiredly, Liv is barely at page one hundred.
Liv and Reid stay behind, knowing damn well that at any minute Hotch will call them to his office. He does, exactly ten minutes after the landing. Liv looks at Reid as they both step into the room.
Hotch’s office door closes softly behind them. The quiet hum of the building feels heavier somehow.
“So. Anything you two want to say?” He asks. Not a sight of expression in his face.
“We’re dating.” Reid answers.
Hotch raises an eyebrow. Liv glances over at him and then nods in confirmation.
“For a few months now.” He continues and Olivia nods again.
“And you decided to keep it a secret because...?” Hotch asks and Olivia sighs.
“Because they’re nosy. And loud. And we didn’t want it to be something before we even had a chance to figure it out ourselves.” She responds.
“We’re not apologizing.” Reid states and Liv frowns.
“Speak for yourself. I’m sorry. I like my job. Please don’t fire me. My mom is really proud of her daughter, who works in the FBI.” Liv begs unashamed.
Hotch’s gaze softens just a fraction, as if Olivia’s words hit a nerve. He leans back in his chair, folding his hands over his desk.
“I’m not here to fire anyone. I want you both to succeed, as agents and as people.” He says carefully. “But I’m not going to sugarcoat it: dating on the job comes with risks. You have to be absolutely sure it doesn’t interfere with your work or the team. And if you think it will, let me know.”
Reid nods solemnly. “We understand. We’ve been careful.”
“If you think it’ll be a problem, I can fill a petition to be transferred back to VICAP.” Liv offers, and Reid frowns, looking at her.
“That’s not what I want. You belong in the BAU, Ortiz. I’m just asking you to be careful.” Hotch reassures. “You have to disclose it to the team. And to HR. Secrets can’t last forever.”
Both Reid and Olivia nod.
Hotch’s eyes linger on them for a moment longer, then he straightens, signaling the conversation is over.
“Good. I’m counting on both of you. Don’t let me down.”
Olivia exhales slowly, feeling the pressure lift just a bit. Reid offers a quiet, reassuring smile as they head out of the office together.
They walk silently towards her car. He pulls the keys from his pocket. Liv had totally forgotten he had them. He opens the door for her and she jumps into the passenger seat. His hands grip the steering wheel as they cruise through the quiet streets. Somewhere in the middle, he places one hand over her thigh, drawing circles with his thumb over it absentmindedly as he drives.
He breaks the silence with a smirk. “Speak for yourself. I’m sorry. Please don’t fire me.” He mimics her voice, making it more nasal and exaggerating the nervous tone.
“I don’t talk like that.” She crosses her arms.
“You’re right. I’m missing the accent and mispronunciation of words.” He responds, and Liv gasps.
“That’s borderline racist!” She laughs. “I’m sending a complain to HR!”
“In English or Spanish?” Liv groans rolling her eyes. Reid chuckles, shaking his head as he glances over at her. “I’m just messing with you, darling.”
“I will not be messing when the HR complain arrives to your desk.” She responds, just as he stops at a red light.
He looks at her, and she’s already looking at him with a sweet smile. She can’t help it. Even if she tried not to look like she’s already losing her mind, completely in love. He leans forward, just enough to steal a peck before the car behind them honks.
“Where are we going anyway?” She asks, leaning back in her seat.
“My apartment.” He responds matter-of-factly.
Liv snorts. “You just decided that?” She asks.
“I’m the one driving.” He responds, shrugging confidently.
Olivia shakes her head, a little laugh slipping out. “You’re way too comfortable making decisions for me, you know that?”
“That’s because you keep making bad ones.” He says, smirking as he changes lanes.
Liv raises her brows. “Oh? Like what?”
“Like dating jerks.” He responds, obvious.
“Well, I’m dating the biggest one right now.” Liv tilts her head, smiling.
“It’s my pleasure to always set the bar.” He responds.
She huffs, looking out the window so he doesn’t see her melting. “You’re insufferable.”
He just laughs quietly, thumb returning to its lazy circles on her thigh as they fall into a comfortable silence. She pulls up her book and curls up in her seat.
Liv holds his hand as she reads and presses a kiss over his knuckles. Somehow, less than fiv pages in, she falls asleep. It’s light and warm and she can still feel him caressing her skin with his thumb.
When she wakes up, they’re in his building’s parking lot. The book is taken off her lap and the man by her side is casually reading it. He looks at her the moment she moves.
“How long have we been here?” She asks, with a bit of a raspy voice.
“Forty minutes. This book is good. Not my cup of tea but entertaining.” He responds. Liv frowns a little.
“I thought you read like forty-thousand words per second.” Liv points, just as Reid closes the book.
“Twenty-thousand per minute. But close enough, darling.” He gives the book back. “I read it three times. Found a couple of mistakes but entertaining over all.”
Olivia blinks. “Wait. Can you tell me in what chapters they have sex?”
“Seventeen, eighteen, twenty, twenty-four, twenty-seven, thirty, thirty-six, thirty-nine, forty and forty-two. There is also a bonus chapter on sex narrated by him.” He responds, and Liv grins.
“Nice!” She looks at the book and then him. She leans and kisses him.
She’s not sure of how she feels about Spencer reading all the explicit sex she has been devouring in various forms since she was like fourteen.
It’s not that she didn’t want him to see her as a sexual being. That ship had sailed about a month ago in her bed... and then in other various places of their apartments. It’s that she really hadn’t planned on him discovering just how much of her free time had been dedicated to fictional people doing wildly specific things to each other.
“You read interesting stuff.” He comments as he opens the car door for her.
“Please tell me you’re not slutshaming my bookshelf.” Olivia responds.
“Not at all.” His fingers intertwine with hers as they walk to the elevator. “I actually find your bookshelf amusing.”
“It’s your first time reading something that’s not a niche Russian novel written in the eighteen-hundreds by a prostitute with leprosy?”
Reid snorts, pressing the elevator button. “It doesn’t make any sense. By the eighteen-hundreds, the leprosy epidemics in Russia had mostly subsided due to improved public health measures, so the entire premise would be historically inaccurate.”
Olivia stares at him for a beat and then smiles. The elevator doors close. “That’s because that’s not my genre of books, genius.”
He glances at her, smirking. “Clearly. Your genre involves faeries with suspiciously human anatomy engaging in...”
“If you finish that sentence, I’m jumping from the closest window.” She shakes her head.
He smiles, clearly enjoying at her expense. He opens the door of his apartment and they both quietly enter. Liv smiles at Socrates. The fish swims happily in its fish tank. Liv places her coat over it, and Spencer frowns.
“What are you doing?” He asks her just as she approaches him.
“I don’t want him to see.” She responds, dropping to her knees in front of him. She takes her hair tie off her wrist and puts her hair in a high ponytail. “I’m not into traumatizing pets.”
“I... uh...” He gulps as she unbuckles his belt. “Betta fish can remember things for up to five months.”
“See? I’m doing him a favor.” She drops his pants on the floor. “Have you ever gotten head before?”
Spencer looks at her. “Umh... I don’t think so.” He responds, just as she takes off his boxers.
“You don’t remember having your dick sucked?” Liv asks, smiling when his thick, hard dick twitches in front of her. She looks at him as she grabs it with her hand.
“Jesus, Olivia.” His head tilt back.
“It’s okay. You will remember now.” She offers. She flicks her tongue over the tip, and his whole body shutters.
That’s the encouragement she needs.
She seals her mouth around the head of his cock and sucks. Teasing the underside with her tongue as she strokes the length with one hand and massages his balls with the other.
“Fuck, Olivia.” He hisses. Her mouth works down to where her hands are.
She takes him deeper, trying to get every single inch in her mouth and failing miserably. She keeps him in her mouth as deep as she can and hollows her cheeks around him. His whimpers and moans become louder by the moment, and Liv cannot pretend she’s not enjoying this.
The wet, sloppy sounds of the blowjob mingle with his loud groans and moans. She splutters and chokes around his dick, but that doesn’t make her stop. She continues, taking him deeper in her mouth and humming. Her eyes water and her breath hitches, but when she looks up at him, his expression alone could make her come.
“You’re killing me, darling.” He tells her.
“And I’m not even trying.” She smiles, pumping his cock with her hand. “You can tell me if you want me to do something.”
He shakes his head. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.” His hips jerk forward when she runs her tongue through his balls before sucking them methodically while huming. “Liv.” Her name sounds like a plea on his lips. “That feels amazing.”
“Yeah?” She asks, looking up at him, her lips close around the tip and she sucks. “Tell me something.”
“Like... Fuck... like what?” He asks her.
“Anything.” She responds, giving him a smile.
“I...” She takes him in, feeling the tip of his cock in the back of her throat and swallows. His breath quickens, eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he looks at her, trying to focus. “Umh... Oral sex triggers the release of oxytocin. It’s a hormone linked to bonding and trust.”
Liv smiles and nods. “So this is super good for us.” She presses her tongue on the tip and he moans.
“It’s incredible.” He responds after a long second. “You’re incredible. Jesus Christ. Liv.”
She loved¿s the way her name fell from his lips. And how he seems to be out of his head. How all the noise in his brain seems to disappear for just one moment. Olivia carries on, sucking in deeper until she knows he's undone.
“Darling, I’m going to... Fuck...” His hips jerk forward. Liv keeps him in her mouth, holding his balls with her hands.
Liv hums when thick ropes of cum splash down her throat. Spencer is loud. His guttural groan gives her a rush of adrenaline. She swallows without thinking. His eyes widen like he just uncovered a groundbreaking fact.
It takes him a long moment to come back from the rush of the orgasm. She stands up, smiling. He blinks at her.
“Umh... Semen contains proteins and enzymes. It has amino acids, sugars, minerals. A small amount of protein...” He fumbles, putting back his pants.
Liv grins. “So... I should suck your dick after gym? It’s that what you’re saying?”
He flushes a bright red, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “That’s not what I...” He starts nervously. “I mean... I wouldn’t complain, but...”
Liv chuckles. “Of course you wouldn’t.” She shakes her head.
“I’ll get you water.” His Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. “Your throat must be sore.”
She smirks and watches him shake his head, muttering something about her being ‘dangerous’ under his breath before disappearing into the kitchen. She removes the coat from Socrates’ fish tank and a minute later, he’s back with a glass of water. She takes it, their fingers brushing briefly, and he sits beside her on the couch, still looking like he can’t quite believe her.
Liv smiles. “You okay, Doctor Reid?”
He looks at her. “I... yeah. I just... need a second... That was probably a life-changing experience.”
She drinks her water, and she notices his stare on her as she does it. “Take your time.” She leans on the couch. “Take your sweet time.”
It takes him a minute to sit up and talk. “Are you okay?”
Liv smiles. “Are you okay?” She asks back. “I was starting to think you were thinking I was a whore.”
He frowns a bit. “No, Liv. Never.” It takes him a second to continue. He’s calculating what he’s going to say, what he’s thinking. His gaze darts briefly toward the book on the coffee table. Liv can practically see the gears in his head turning. “I just... don’t have as much experience as... they guy in your books.”
Liv blinks. “Are you jealous of a guy with a tail who lives in a whimsical court?”
His ears go pink. “I’m just saying... he seems to know exactly what to do, what to say.” He exhales sharply, his fingers twitch against his knee. “I’m not that practiced.”
She stares at him for a beat, then shakes her head, smiling in disbelief. “Spencer, those books are written by women for other women so they get horny. That’s literally the point. It’s not real. Real guys don’t know how to touch a woman for shit. And I can tell you that because I’ve faked dozens of orgasms.”
His eyes widen slightly at her bluntness, but she just takes another sip of water. Completely unbothered.
She tilts her head towards him. “You’re ahead of ninety percent of the male population because you pay attention. More than any guy I’ve ever been with.” She chuckles. “You really have nothing to worry about.”
That earns her the smallest twitch of a smile. He glances down at his hands, still clearly processing.
“I just...” he starts, but trails off again, his voice quieter. “I want to be good to you.”
Her grin softens, and she reaches out to hook a finger under his chin so he’s looking at her again. “Spencer, you are good. You’re really good. Sex with you is really good.” She kisses him softly. “Besides. I would never fuck a guy with a tail. But maybe that’s just me.” She shrugs.
“It’s all about questionable preferences.” He adds, and she smiles, leaning to kiss him again. “Do you want to watch a movie?”
“What are you thinking?” She asks. Snuggling closer to him.
“A niche Russian movie filmed in the twentieth century about a prostitute with leprosy.” He responds, making her burst on laughter. He has the sweetest smile on his face. He kisses her softly.
They settle on a comedy movie that she seems to enjoy more than him. He caresses her hair and kisses her forehead sweetly. In the middle of the movie, she realizes there is no other place that she would rather be, even if they barely fit on his couch.
“There is a new exhibition in the National Gallery.” He starts. “It’s about Renaissance art. I was thinking we could go.”
Liv smirks. “Are you asking me out, Doctor Reid?”
“I would never.” He frowns a bit, mocking offense.
“Good.” She responds, unable to fight back her smile. She lays her head on his chest. “I don’t think I’ve ever gone to the National Gallery.”
He clears his throat, a little shy tugging his lips. “Well, it’s one of the most comprehensive collections of Renaissance art outside Europe. They have paintings from Leonardo da Vinci, Raphael, Titian... The exhibition focuses on how the artists portrayed human emotion during that period. It’s fascinating how they captured such subtle feelings with brushstrokes.” He pauses suddenly self-aware. Liv looks up at him. “I’m rambling, aren’t I?”
Her eyes are soft and amused. “No, I don’t mind. I like it when you talk like that.”
His smile widens, encouraged. For a moment, the world ceases to exist. She fits perfectly against his chest. He keeps caressing her scalp absentmindedly. Warm honey pumps through her veins as she hears his heartbeat. She has a feeling, a nice one, opposite to how she had been feeling for the last couple of months before dating Spencer.
At night, when she lays in his bed wearing his clothes because he decided that he would wash everything in their go bags. She watches him methodically fold the clothes as he talks about the invention of closets, and realizes she could watch him do literally anything for hours.
The next morning, sunlight filters softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow over Spencer’s apartment. Liv wakes to the smell of coffee and something cooking in the kitchen. She stretches and slips quietly out of bed, still wearing his oversized shirt, the sleeves swallowing her wrists.
In the kitchen, Spencer stands by the stove, flipping pancakes with focused precision. His glasses sit slightly crooked on his nose, hair tousled from sleep. He hums to himself as he works.
“Morning.” Liv says softly, leaning against the doorframe.
He looks up, surprised and delighted. “Good morning.” He smiles. “I thought I’d try making breakfast.”
She smiles, walking over and wrapping her arms around his waist from behind. “They smell amazing.”
He sets the spatula down and turns to face her, eyes bright. “There is also some fresh fruit. And I made coffee in case you want some. I thought we could eat, then head to the National Gallery.”
She feels her heart flutter at how effortlessly thoughtful he is. “Sounds right”
He grins, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I promise the exhibition will be incredible. I’ve been reading about how Renaissance artists used color and light to express emotions. It’s fascinating.
She gets on her tiptoes and presses a kiss to his cheek. His smile becomes even wider.
Later. The National Gallery was quiet in that hushed; reverent way museums always seemed to be. Paintings stared down at them from gilded flames, centuries-old brushstrokes holding whole worlds inside them.
Spencer’s hand is warm in hers. Not a fleeting, accidental touch, but a steady, absentminded hold, like he’s picked it up and forgotten to let go. He didn’t even glance at it; his gaze was fixed on a massive canvas ahead, and his voice flowed as easily as if he were reading from the artist’s diary.
“It’s from the late fifteenth-century.” He says, stepping closer, the words soft but certain. “Tempera on panel, which was common before oil paints became dominant. You can see the early use of linear perspective here.”
Liv listened, or tried to, but something shifted under her ribs, quiet and irreversible. She watches the way the light catches in his hair when he tilts, the way his eyes scan over every detail like he’s mapping it into memory. He speaks without hesitation, a vault of knowledge she could never get tired of unlocking.
And suddenly, painfully, beautifully, she knew. She loves him.
Not the dizzy, terrified kind she’s felt before. The kind that made her grip too tightly, that left her anxious for the other shoe to drop. No. This is different. It was calm. Sure. A steady, grounded thing that didn’t need a safety net because it didn’t want to fall. It wanted to stay right here, where his hand was in hers, and she could breathe without fear.
Spencer glances at her, catching her eye as though he just remembered she exists outside his lecture. “You okay?”
She smiles, small, private, knowing. “Yeah. Perfect.”
He leans and kisses her cheek before continuing to the next painting.
Chapter 12
Notes:
Taking an exam in 5 hours, wish me luck yall.
I also had the idea for Liv learning Organic Chem from Reid while I was studying for my Organic chem exam one morning, I think is so sweet.
ALSO THE PENDANT AAAAAA SO SWEET.
The most obvious song for this chapter is Call it what you want by Taylor Swift.
WC: 6154 words.
Chapter Text
Spencer Reid knows he has never felt like this in his life.
He quickly learns that there is nothing logical in the way he reacts about anything relating Olivia Ortiz. He’s been a germophobe for as long as he can remember. He’s always hated any person crossing his physical boundaries and would never think of willingly touching anybody.
Still, there is nothing in this world that would make him not want to be near Olivia.
She’s across from him in her kitchen. Her hair up in a ponytail and she’s wearing an oversized Olivia Rodrigo sweatshirt. She’s curled up in a kitchen stool, mouthing Taylor Swift songs absentmindedly while drawing skeletal organic structures on her iPad.
Spencer wasn’t even sure how it happened. One moment they were watching tiktoks cuddling in her sofa, the next he was explaining her the basics of chemistry and then, she was drawing structures with more confidence than accuracy. She would be wrong most of the time because organic chemistry is not something you learn without basic chemistry knowledge, still, she was curious enough.
“Would this work?” She asks suddenly, swiveling the screen toward him. Her tone is casual, but there is a spark of curiosity in her eyes. On the screen is a chain of carbon atoms, simple, neat but imperfect.
He dries his hands, walks over and leans in just enough to see. “Carbon can only have four bonds.” He murmurs.
She frowns a bit. “Why?”
“Because it’s stable that way. It has only four valence electrons, so it doesn’t need more bonds to reach stability.” He explains simply. She frowns a bit more.
“Do all molecules search stability?” She asks, tilting her head sweetly at him.
His chest tightens. She’s not asking to seem smart or impress him. She’s asking out of genuine curiosity. “Yes.” He says softly, moving a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Atoms are... kind of like people. They don’t like being alone, but they also don’t like having too much. They seek balance. Stability. The right number of bonds is like... finding the right person to be around.”
Her lips curve into the smallest of smiles. “So they have their own little friend groups?”
A breathy laugh escapes him. “Kind of. But when bonds are wrong, they become reactive, unstable. Dangerous.”
She hums, her pen moving through the screen of her iPad. “So they are like people.” She cocks her lip. “Wrong bonds make you unstable.”
Spencer swallows. She’s clearly unaware of what this is doing to him. “You’d be surprised at how alike chemistry and people are.” He responds.
She redraws the structure, fixing the bonds. “Like this?” She asks.
He nods. “Yes, darling. Like that.” He leans and presses a kiss on her temple.
She hums happily at her performance and goes to the next chain. He should walk away, go back to the onions that were sauteing or find something else to do. Instead, he stays right there, watching her trace carbon chains with her bottom lip caught gently between her teeth in concentration.
“This is kind of fun.” She smiles.
He doesn’t respond. He’s too busy memorizing the way her hair falls against her cheek, the way the corners of her mouth curve when she’s satisfied with herself, the way she somehow makes the word fun sound like it belongs in a lab as much as it belongs in a summer evening.
And it hits him quietly, no need for a pattern or logical proof, no formula to explain why his chest feels this full just from watching her draw fake molecules. It’s not a choice or a slow calculation. It’s simply there, like gravity or the speed of light, an undeniable fact of the universe.
He loves her.
The realization isn’t groundbreaking or shocking, it doesn’t make him anxious or uncomfortable. For the first time in his life, he’s perfectly okay with not having an answer, or a plan.
Being in love with Olivia Ortiz seems like the only possible answer to everything. Like the most natural one. All her energy and charisma completely engulf him. Being in love with Olivia doesn’t only feel like the natural answer to everything, but like a privilege.
Liv looks up at him and smiles. He feels like his heart stops beating.
“Oh wait. I have something for you.” She comments, standing up, absentmindedly taking her pen with her.
“For me?” He frowns.
“It’s more for me, but you’ll love it.” She responds from her room.
“Is it lingerie? Because I would love that.” He asks as she comes back. She tilts her head and puts her hands on her hips.
“Can’t you think of anything that isn’t sex?” She raises her brows. “There generations are deranged.” She shakes her head.
“So no lingerie?” She crosses his arms in his chest.
“The one who buys gets to take it off.” She approaches him, pressing a soft kiss on his lips. “No, it’s this.”
He blinks, watching her hold out a small velvet jewelry box, deep green, soft to the touch. His fingers tremble a little as he takes it, the weight of the moment already settling in.
Slowly, he lifts the lid.
Inside, nestled against the black velvet cushion, is a delicate gold necklace. The pendant is a simple, elegant S that gleams softly in the light. It’s the same style as the one she always wears with her own initial.
His break hitches. The meaning is immediate and clear.
She’s thinking of him.
He looks up, caught in the warmth of her eyes, and suddenly notices her neck bare. The necklace she always wears is missing.
“Will you put it on me?” She asks softly, her cheeks tinted pink in the cutest way.
He lifts the necklace, and she turns out energetically. The gold catches the light, and she shivers just slightly under his touch. Once he settles the necklace, he leans to press a soft kiss on her neck, just over her pulse point.
“There’s a Taylor Swift song.” She starts. “About putting her boyfriend’s initial on a chain around her neck. I recently heard it for the first time, and I thought of you.” She smiles a bit.
He smiles quietly, fingers resting lightly on her waist. “I think that’s the most beautiful thing I’ve heard.”
Her eyes shine with mischief and tenderness. “Even more beautiful than the Pride and Prejudice love confession? Because that makes me cry every time.”
He nods, still caught in the moment. He wants to say ‘I love you’, but he’s afraid the words will send her running... or kicking him away from her apartment. Too big, too fast to say just yet. Instead, he brushes the same rebel stray lock of hair behind her ear and simply says. “Thank you.”
She smiles, that soft, warm smile that makes his heart almost stop every time.
The moment gets interrupted by her phone ringing over the counter, she frowns a bit stepping closer to it. She sighs heavily before putting it on her ear. “Hi JJ.” She smiles. “Damn, what are you eating that makes you such a good guesser?”
Reid frowns a bit. Liv grins and puts the phone back on the counter in speaker. JJ’s voice crackles. “Sorry to interrupt your evening. This is an emergency. I need you in Quantico as soon as possible.”
Her brow furrows. “What kind of situation?”
“An unsub has taken over a school, locked down the entire building and is holding a number of children and staff inside. No idea of who he is or what he wants. No demands, no communication so far.”
Liv stiffens, her eyes narrowing. “Any leads? Witnesses?”
JJ sighs. “Nothing.”
Spencer’s jaw tightens. “We’re going.”
The next minute is a struggle. They change into work clothes rapidly and pick up their go bags. Liv sits quietly in the passenger seat, applying her makeup the best she can as Reid grips the steering wheel steadily with one hand and caresses her thigh with the other.
The music hums softly in the car, but none of them talk. There is really nothing to talk about, not when the stress of the case is already pumping through them. They share a look as Reid parks in Quantico, Liv dedicates him a small smile, and he squeezes her thigh slightly.
They silently take the elevator, the air hanging thickly between them. “We should’ve passed through a drive-thru.” Liv comments, crossing her arms.
“I stole a couple of protein bars from your pantry. I’ll give you one later.” He offers and her eyes widen.
“The expensive protein bars? The ones with cute packaging? I knew I wasn’t eating them that fast.” She pouts in the cutest way. He smiles.
“They have great nutritional value.” He shrugs. “I’ll buy more.”
She looks up at him. “Okay.”
He wants to kiss her. God, he wants to kiss her. Just as he’s about to, the door dings open and the moment dissipates. They walk across the bullpen and join the team in the briefing room. Morgan’s brow twitches slightly.
“Did you two come together?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I found him lost in the entrance and decided to adopt him.” Liv responds, sitting in her designated spot next to Prentiss.
Reid is glad she’s that quick-witted. There is no logical way for him to explain that he and Liv arrived at the same time without giving them out. Her answer doesn’t raise any more suspicion, the team just takes it and continues.
They listen to the case. Reid knows he has to concentrate, but keeps glancing occasionally to Liv’s necklace, the golden S shining on her neck. She plays absentmindedly with her pendant as they discuss the situation. It makes Reid’s chest tug.
They quickly move to the jet. Liv sits next to him in the jet, their knees touching under the table.
Hotch’s phone rings. “Garcia.”
“A new post just went tagging the Crawford High School,” She starts. “We, the students of Crawford High School, will die. Our burned bodies may finally get through, to you your society churns out slaves and blanks. No, thanks. Signed, the Students of Crawford High. Goodbye.”
A loud silence passes around the table as everyone processes.
“Looks like a suicide pact.” Rossi mutters.
“A social critique.” Prentiss nods.
“The post was uploaded from inside the school.” Garcia comments after the sound of her fingers flying over keyboards.
Reid looks at Liv, who’s frowning, murmuring something under her breath. “Liv?” He asks her.
“We’ll plant this note explaining why they died. We, the students of Westemburg High, will die, out burned bodies may finally get through to you your society churns out slaves and blanks. No thanks. Signed, the students of Westemburg High. Goodbye.” She repeats almost musically and looks up at him. “I’ve heard that before. Where did I hear that before?” She runs her hands through her hair.
“It’s not original?” Prentiss asks, but Liv keeps repeating the words.
“Heathers! The musical!” She points. “The unsub is going to blow the school!”
“Heathers? As the Winona Ryder movie?” Rossi frowns.
Reid blinks at them. “Who’s Heather?”
Liv groans by his side. “Heathers. It’s a cult movie from the eighties, it was adapted to a musical. JD has a whole number about blowing the school. They had a pep-rally that day.” She leans back. “That’s word-for-word from the finale of the musical version.”
Garcia’s voice breaks through. “She’s right. The note is the exact same from the musical. Here’s the clip.”
Reid blinks, looking at the performance. Not able to see how anybody would actually take it seriously enough to replicate it. The song finishes, and Morgan talks. “You are blushing, pretty girl.”
Liv giggles next to Reid. “I’ve always had a thing for JD. Not relevant, but when Veronica tells him, ‘I didn’t catch your name’ and he goes like ‘I didn’t throw it’.” Liv squeaks. “Sorry, not relevant.”
Prentiss blinks. “You need a priest.”
Liv laughs.
“Oh, here’s something. Crawford High’s theater group presented Heathers: The Musical three months ago.”
“Damn, serial killers really get inspiration from anything, don’t they?” Liv crosses her arms, leaning back. “So JD is mad at life because his mom died and he has moved a lot, to the point where he kills people as an outlet. He kills Heather, Ram and Kurt after they hurt Veronica. How does all of it fit here?”
Reid leans forward, resting his elbows on the table, eyes fixed on his girlfriend. “So you’re suggesting that the unsub is recreating the musical scenario, but with real students?” His voice is quiet, precise.
Olivia frowns a little. “It would look like.” She responds. “The unsub might be a student, knows his way around the school enough to know how to close it completely.”
“Must have a gun. A knife wouldn’t scare anyone enough for a lockdown.” Rossi comments and Liv nods.
Morgan leans back, arms crossed. “So we’re talking about someone who not only knows the layout of the school but also how to keep the victims trapped long enough to make this work.”
“Not just trapped.” Prentiss adds. “Terrified. This is theater to him. It’s just part of a performance.”
“Penn, can you please check if there are any students enrolled who have been transferred a lot during high school?” Liv leans back, her hand brushes Spencer’s for just a slight second.
Garcia’s fingers fly over her keyboard as the jet hums through turbulence. “Twenty-three out of a thousand.” She responds; Liv grimaces slightly.
“Any of them transferred twice within a year?” Liv continues.
“One. A fifteen-year-old Alex Colter. Fifteen years old, transferred six times in three years. Currently living with his aunt after mom’s... oh. Car accident six months go.”
Liv blinks. “Our unsub is fifteen? Don’t fifteen-year-old have better shit to do than terrorizing schools?”
Morgan smirks. “What were you doing at fifteen, pretty girl?”
“Drinking.” Liv says like it’s obvious, doesn’t even hesitate. “Like any normal kid would.”
JJ raises an eyebrow. “Normal?”
Liv grins. “I started being served alcohol at thirteen. And there was always tequila being snuggled at the quinceañeras. Beautiful culture.” She shrugs. “I still keep a tequila bottle in my freezer for when I feel too sober. Makes me feel right at home.”
“You’ve been drinking for the last fifteen years?” Prentiss asks.
“And that’s consistency, baby. That’s how you know I’m loyal. I’m not dropping alcohol anytime soon.” She smiles.
Morgan chuckles, shaking his head. “Remind me never to drink with you.”
“You couldn’t handle it, big boy.” Liv fires back without missing a beat.
“Oh, here’s something. Alex Colter is at a dentist appointment.” Garcia’s voice cuts, making Olivia sit back and huff.
“So it isn’t him.” Prentiss concludes.
“You see? Fifteen-year-olds are doing better stuff.” She licks her front teeth. “What do you need to make a bomb? Like chemically.” She looks at Reid.
Reid straightens, glancing at her quickly before addressing the table. “Most common school targeted explosives are pipe bombs or pressure cooker bombs.” He frowns a bit.
“Most common school targeted explosives?” Liv repeats, raising a brow. “That’s the most insane phrase I’ve heard.” She shakes her head. “Continue, Wonderboy.”
“Although most improvised explosives rely on either oxidizer like hydrogen peroxide or nitrates.” Reid continues; Liv frowns a little.
“Nitrates. Those are found in cleaning supplies, right?” She looks at him, he nods.
The whole table swivel their heads toward her. Rossi raises a brow, and Prentiss gives her a skeptical once-over.
Liv blinks at them. “My mom is a chemical engineer. The first ever Christmas gift I remember is a chemistry set. And that’s because my dad couldn’t get a neurobiology for dummies book that was age appropriate.”
Reid’s mouth twitches. She hadn’t known it off the top of her head. She knew it because he rambled about how interesting he thought it was that people were so against nitrates on household items while they were curled up on her couch. He just didn’t think she had paid attention to him.
“Cleaning supplies, and here I thought you only knew tequila brands.” Morgan repeats slowly with a grin.
Olivia shrugs, unfazed. “I like keeping you all on the edge of your seats.”
Hotch cuts in before Morgan can retort. “So the unsub has to have understanding of chemistry and access to the chemicals.”
“Yeah but how much of each chemical do you need to blow up a school that big?” Liv tilts her head.
Reid leans back, his fingers steepling. He doesn’t look at anyone but Liv as he speaks, though the whole team hears. “Well, assuming a standard classroom is about thirty by thirty feet, and there are forty classrooms on two floors, that’s approximately twelve thousand cubic feet of enclosed space. To create sufficient overpressure for structural compromise, you’d need. Hypothetically, of course. About three kilograms of ammonium nitrate per thousand cubic feet.” He says as Olivia’s frown gets increasingly deeper. “So thirty-six kilograms total. Add in a confining vessel, pipes, pressure cookers, whatever, and the blast yield increases. You’d also want a detonator sensitive to primary explosives, maybe a few grams of lead azide. The timing mechanism could be improvised from a household digital timer. Simple, elegant, deadly.”
Liv blinks. “Are we seriously on a plane with a dude who can create bombs from scratch? Is this not concerning to you?”
“That’s what I’ve been saying for ten years!” Morgan chimes in, pointing at Olivia.
The jet descends, engines humming low. Liv straightens in her seat beside Reid, pulling her jacket tighter around her. The SUV is waiting on the tarmac, black and unmarked. JJ slides into the back with them, leaving the front seat for Reid.
Liv climbs in next to him, exhaling a little. His hand immediately finds hers. “I can’t believe I sleep like a baby next to a guy who could just blow up my house if he wanted.”
“Why would I want to blow up your house?” Reid caresses her knuckles with his thumb.
“I... sometimes get super annoying.” She responds matter-of-factly. He brings her hands closer and presses a kiss on the inside of her wrist.
“This man has the patience of a saint. I would be more worried about ruining her calculations or something.” JJ comments, and Olivia snorts by his side.
Reid takes a moment to look at his girlfriend. He still didn’t understand how she agreed to date him, and how he had somehow kept her around so long. She was everything he wasn’t and even more.
It takes them a couple of minutes to arrive to the high school. Tents were set around it, thirteen police cars surrounding it. Liv gives Reid a quick peck before jumping off the car and JJ mumbles something about never traveling with the couple again.
“So all we know about this kid is that he’s mad at the high school and knows this musical.” Morgan crosses out his arms.
“And chemistry.” Liv adds, picking up her hair in a ponytail. Reid looks at her for a long moment, thinking on how beautiful she looks. “But he also has access to large amounts of chemicals.”
“And no one questions all the chemicals he orders and the amounts.” Prentiss continues.
That starts something in Reid’s brain. No student has the amount of money to pay for all the chemicals required to blow even a portion of the school. The unsub must have enough money to afford it but easy access to the school and not get a lot of attention. He must be also able to get all the materials easily into the school.
“Our unsub is not a student.” Reid says, earning all the attention. “Think about it. No student can get sixty-three kilograms of ammonium nitrate in the school without it being suspicious.”
“So what? A chemistry teacher?” Rossi asks, frowning.
Reid shakes his head, his tone precise. “Too visible. Teachers are monitored, their purchases logged by the district. If it were a teacher, redflags would’ve been raised weeks ago.”
Liv squints at the building, tugging at the end of ther ponytail. “What about someone who’s invisible enough that nobody cares what they’re hauling around? Someone who moves through the halls every day but nobody really sees.”
Reid’s eyes snap towards her, catching on. His voice lowers. “Janitorial staff.”
Morgan whistles low. “You’re saying the janitor’s out unsub?”
Liv points at Morgan like she’s calling a game show. “Ding, ding, ding!”
“He has keys to every closet, he can drag giant containers around without a single eyebrow raised, and, if anyone asks, it’s just bleach, or floor cleaner.” Prentiss nods.
“No one questions the guy who empties the trash.” Hotch comments.
JJ nods. “That would explain how he knows the school inside out. Entrances, exits, choke points.”
Hotch puts the phone on the middle of the table. “Garcia, we need confirmation on the staff roster.”
Her voice comes through almost instantly, tense but efficient. “Already on it, boss. Crawford High has four janitors on record. Two are over sixty, one is out on medical leave after knee surgery. Which leaves...” the typing continue. “Thomas Keene. Forty-two years old. Hired seven months ago. Multiple transfers before that. Oh... look at this. Military discharge. Dishonorable. Demolitions training.”
Liv exhales. “Well, that explains how he knows how to turn cleaning supplies into boom-boom confetti.”
Morgan gives her a look. “Boom-boom confetti?”
“I’m bilingual. I forgot how to say bomb.” She admits, making Morgan chuckle and shake his head.
Garcia’s voice cuts in. “Pulling up Keene’s file... Oh, you’re going to love this one. Two counts of assault during service, dishonorable discharge specifically for ‘conduct unbecoming’, this guy has temper. And explosives trainings.
Prentiss leans in. “So we got someone invisible, angry, trained with access. Perfect storm.”
“He might not be trying to explode the whole school.“ Liv comments, frowning. “I never paid attention to my brother’s structural yapping but if the guy blows a sensible hallway the whole place can fall.
“I’m surprised you haven’t said you dated an engineer once.” Morgan crosses his arms on his chest.
“None of my exes has had a future.” Liv shakes her head, taking a sip of her water bottle. “Miraculously, all of them have high school diploma, that’s the highest I’ve ever reached.”
“Liv’s right.” Reid cuts in.
“None of her exes have future?” Rossi crosses his arms, unimpressed but amused.
“Apart from that.” Reid agrees. “Liv’s right about structure. All Keene has to do is collapse one load-bearing hallway and the chain reaction would be catastrophic. Garcia. Can you get me the blueprint of the school?”
“On it.” Garcia responds.
Less than a minute later, the blueprint is on their phones, Liv leans closer to him, with her iPad on hand, smelling like her coconuts perfume and lavender detergent and home. Reid fights his first instinct to touch her and they just analyze the place together.
His fingers trace the blueprint on the screen. “Here. This hallway runs across the first floor. Is a low bearing artery. If he rigs explosives here it’s gone.”
Garcia’s voice breaks through the phone. “Bomb squad’s in route.” She announces, making Liv sigh quietly.
“Any way in?” Hotch asks, looking at Reid.
His eyes scan the blueprint again, mind working faster by the moment. His finger stops at a side entrance. “Here, service access door by the gym. It’s connected to the utility corridor. Leads straight to the janitorial storage rooms. If Keene’s staging anything, it’ll be there.”
Before Hotch can assign anyone, Liv straightens, already tucking her iPad under her arm. “I can go in. He won’t see me coming.”
“No.” Reid’s answer is instant, sharper than intended. The whole table looks at him, but his eyes are only on her. “Absolutely not.”
Liv blinks, then tilts her head at him. “Why not?”
“Because...” His voice wavers, his throat tightening. He clears it, forcing clinical precision back into his tone. “He has military demolitions straining and a documented history of violence. Teens are soft targets, Olivia, and you’re smaller. Easier to overpower.”
Her brow furrows, that stubborn spark shining in her eyes. “Smaller also means easier to hide. Reid. It means I can slip through spaces none of you can. It means that if the school still got kids in it, I can blend. I can even pass for a substitute teacher if I look miserable enough.”
He almost swears under his breath. The worst part? She’s right. But all he sees is her walking into a building wired to collapse.
Hotch’s eyes flick between them, carefully unreadable. Only he and JJ know, and JJ’s gaze is heavy on Reid now.
“Liv...” Reid starts again. Softer this time. He wants to tell her that he already lost Maeve, that the thought of losing her too is unbearable. That he’d walk into the building a thousand times before letting her take one step toward it.
But Hotch steps in, decisive. “Ortiz. You’re right. You can move undetected.”
“I’ll go with her.” Prentiss offers. “I’ve been professional bait for years. And I can protect her if needed.”
Hotch looks at them two. “Done.”
Liv and Prentiss share a look. Liv smiles and shakes her shoulders and that makes her mentor smile as well. Reid wants to stop them, to tell them that if the building collisions it’s over for both of them, no matter how much experience Prentiss has handling unsubs. Reid wants to tell them he can’t lose Liv, but he can’t lose Prentiss again.
He swallows hard, every nerve of his body rebelling. He wants to follow, he wants to make sure his girlfriend is safe, that his friend won’t have any risk inside. Hotch’s eyes meet his, firm and he knows it’s the best compromise. He clenches his jaw.
“Get wired down.” Hotch instructs, just as Liv gets her FBI vest.
“Yeah, and we can’t forget the vest. God forbit the school explodes and we’re not wearing it.” Liv jokes, earning a snort from Prentiss.
“I just got the camera footage!” Garcia chimes in. “The kids are gathered in the cafeteria. They barely fit. Keene’s moving in the janitorial corridor. He hasn’t noticed anyone near the service entrance yet. Liv, Prentiss, you’re clear.”
“We can pull this.” Liv nods, just as her earpiece started working. “And if I die, I’ll haunt you all I’ll pull your feet in your sleep.” She menaces, but the thought of her dying makes him want to throw up. “And if I make it out alive I’ll go to mass or something.”
Liv looks at him and smiles lightly before her and Prentiss enter the school. Reid can’t help but notice how she crosses herself on her face and chest and she mutters praying. He knows she’s not religious, but he also knows she used to call her grandma and ask for blessings before her FBI Academy exams.
Reid can barely breathe.
He watches Liv’s frame disappear past the door, her vest bulky on her small frame and it feels like someone just reached into his chest and twisted. His fingers twitch toward his comms like he could pull her back by sheer force of will.
“Relax, pretty boy.” Morgan’s voice is low beside him, but teasing. “Prentiss is with her. You know they’re solid.”
Reid swallows, his throat tight. That’s not the point.” He mutters, almost to himself. “I can calculate blast radius down to the centimeter, but I can’t calculate...” He cuts himself off.
Rossi glances over, sharp, catching more than Reid wants him to. “Can’t calculate luck.” He finishes for him.
Inside, Liv’s crackles faintly over the comms. “Hallway clear so far. Prentiss is doing her scary-frown thing, so we’re good.”
Despite himself, Reid’s lips tug up. Only Olivia Ortiz could walk into a wired building and still feel the freedom to tell jokes. The silence is oppressive. Liv and Prentiss move with the kind of careful steps you only learn from years in the field. But Liv doesn’t have that time.
They watch them in the cameras. They reach the cafeteria, the air thick with panic. Dozens of students and staff huddled together, some crying, some clutching each other, all terrified.
Prentiss raises a finger to her lips. Liv’s eyes flicker toward the trembling kids in the corner. She crouches low, slipping forward toward the side door. The cafeteria’s back exit, the one leading to the patio. Liv’s small fingers move without hesitation, picking it with ease. The chain clattered softly as she caught it before it hits the floor.
“Beautiful.” Prentiss whispers.
“I know.” Liv smiles. “Oh, you meant the picking…”
Morgan smirks and Reid huffs a laugh. Reid is relieved. They’ll get the kids out and she’ll be here, safely. Except that when Hotch instructs them to move and receive the kids and staff, Liv is nowhere to be found.
“She went to check on Keene.” Prentiss says, holding a particularly disturbed girl. His blood turns to ice.
“Fuck.” Spencer whispers.
Hotch touches his earpiece. “Ortiz, report.”
“Breathing, so far.” Liv responds. “I see the bomb. Fifteen minutes. Is ticking down surprisingly fast.”
Garcia’s voice breaks through. “Liv, he’s going towards where you are.”
Reid curses the moment she separated from Prentiss. Reid curses her stubbornness. He curses the moment Hotch didn’t send them together. Curses the fact that his brain is not able to formulate a logical thought, how he can’t feel nothing other than the clawing sensation on his chest.
The SWAT team is coming inside with the anti-bomb squad.
“Ortiz, you need to get out.” Hotch instructs.
“She’s hiding.” Garcia says. “Oh God.”
Just then, a scream breaks through the comm, Olivia’s scream. Reid feels his heart stop for what feels like minutes. He can hear Liv’s struggle. His stomach drops so fast it makes him dizzy.
He’d already lost Maeve. He’d watched her die. He couldn’t allow it with Olivia. Not when she was the only good thing in his life. His mind races, not in statistics, not in neat calculations, but in a blurt of worst-case scenarios. He knows the blast radius of ammonium nitrate in his sleep, but he can’t calculate how much force would it take to crush her chest under Keene’s weight. He can’t calculate if she has fifteen minutes or fifteen seconds.
Hotch’s voice cuts through, controlled as usual. “Ortiz, report.”
Nothing.
Reid’s throat locks, panic clawing his ribs. He watches Prentiss paces around, a worried frown dancing on her face. She’s whispering to herself stuff.
“When is the fucking squad coming? This dude is a mammoth.” Liv’s voice breaks through. Just a moment of relief invades him before he notices how out of breath she is. Her muscles must be tired and he’s not sure if she could work any further. “Oh…”
“Ortiz?” Hotch asks.
“You broke your left arm doing this.” Liv sounds almost content. She does something that makes him howl. “Well, this changes things.”
“Olivia, the school is completely evacuated.” Hotch announces. “Ortiz, you have ten minutes left.”
“I can do a lot in ten minutes.” She replies, her breaths heavy. “Except using my gun, that would trigger the bomb, wouldn’t it?” Liv asks. Hotch looks at Reid and he nods.
“It would.” Hotch replies. Olivia huffs tiredly.
It’s like it’s all happening again. The constant fear of losing the person he cares for the most. JJ’s hand rest on his arm in what intends to be a comforting way, but the clawing raw sensation on his chest doesn’t ease.
“Let me in.” Reid asks, basically begs.
“The bomb could explode any moment. No.” Hotch says, Reid’s frown grow bigger.
“She’s still there!” Reid conteracts.
“She knew what she was doing, kid.” Rossi responds. Reid’s heart stops beating. Not this. Not now. She can’t die without him telling her how much he loves her. She can’t die at all, he can’t lose her.
Every instinct tells him to bolt inside, he can face a diciplinary review without a problem. He can face Hotch’s wrath easily. He can survive being fired from the BAU. He could not survive losing her. He heard the struggling noises of his girlfriend fighting to make it out alive and he couldn’t do anything.
And then...
“SWAT inbound! Stack up!” A voice barked over comms... But he doesn’t hear Olivia.
His eyes stay over the doors. His pulse hammering so loud he could barely hear. He wasn’t breathing until the SWAT team begins to walk out. One of the officers emerges, carrying a limp figure. Dark hair loose, pale arms dangling.
Liv.
His heart drops. She didn’t make it out alive and he couldn’t protect her. He couldn’t stop it from happening. He didn’t do anything to stop it either. All his willingness was not enough when he didn’t dare doing anything. It was history repeating itself over and over.
He can’t move while they see the SWAT agent lay Liv carefully in the floor. Prentiss is already kneeling next to her, looking like she might kill someone if Liv doesn’t breathe in the next minutes. She places her fingers over her pulse point.
“Liv...” She whispers.
As soon as Prentiss’ fingers touch Liv’s skin, the latter moves suddenly, making Prentiss jerk back. Liv sits up giggling, the most beautiful mischievous grin spreads across her face.
“You’re stupid.” Prentiss says, engulfing her in a hug that looks like could crush her. Liv smiles widely on her mentor’s arms.
“I couldn’t help it.” She says.
“What’s up with being carried outside?” Morgan asks, a relief smile decorating his face.
“Twisted my ankle. Give me a solid minute and I’ll be fine.” She says, moving her feet in circles. “Plus, I couldn’t have scared Prentiss if I just walked out.” She pokes Prentiss ribs.
“Liv’s location of the bomb saved the bomber squad at least ten minutes.” Garcia breaks through the comms. "And there were three closed classrooms full of kids."
“It was reckless and stupid.” Hotch shakes his head. “Good job.”
Liv tilts her head and smiles. “You guys know my dying wish is being buried in one of those fur covered fluffy coffins, right? Just in case the information is necessary.”
SWAT marches Keene out in cuffs. The man’s stare stays on Liv, who catches his eye and lifts her hand in a cheery little wave.
“Wow. No wonder my cousin wrestles bulls for a living. Adrenaline is awesome.” She states, taking Prentiss’ hand to stand up.
“Your cousin wrestles bulls?” JJ asks, raising a perfectly shaped blonde brow.
“He’s famous for that in his village.” Liv assures, resting her leg on the floor and applying moderate pressure.
“Is that the same that asked for custody of the snake?” Rossi asks and Liv smiles.
“That’s his brother!” She nods.
Rossi blinks. “Your family never ceases to amaze me.”
Liv catches Reid’s stare and smiles a bit. A reassuring smile that does little to calm him.
Prentiss holds Liv in what seems like protective custody. But in the jet, Reid gets to steal a small moment with her. She’s sitting in front of him, the cards shuffle in his hands as he intents to show her a magic trick.
“You can’t do that to me again.” He says softly. “You’re going to kill me.”
“You’re thirty-two, your cardiovascular system should be at its peak.” She leans back in his seat. “There should be a couple of new whites in your hair though, I proudly take accountability.”
That makes him smile a bit. “Take a card.”
She plucks a card dramatically, glancing at it before slipping it back into the deck. Reid’s hands move with the kind of muscle memory that could only come from years of practice, his long fingers shuffle effortlessly, bridging and cutting until the deck feels whole again.
Then, he snaps his fingers and pulls her card cleanly from the middle. He shows it to her with a small, proud smile.
Liv grins, narrowing her eyes. “You’re dangerous. How is that possible?”
Morgan leans in his seat across the aisle, grinning widely. “Careful, pretty girl. He pulls the tricks out only when he’s flirting.”
Reid’s head jerks up. “That’s not... I’m not... I do magic for a lot of reasons.”
Liv raises a brow in front of him. “Is that it? Are you flirting with me, Doctor Reid?” Liv leans closer to him, eyes shining with mischief.
“I’m... uh... that’s not...”
“Magic trick and blushing. I really hit the jackpot, didn’t I?” Liv leans back in her seat. Her feet caressing his leg under the table.
She smiles a bit at him in a way that makes him lose his mind, he smiles as well. He doesn’t need much more than the quiet understanding that she’s fine and she’s his.
Chapter 13
Notes:
Fluff Spencer Reid you're so loved by me.
Song: Carried away by Madison Beer.WC: 8671 words.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Okay.” Liv leans forward, holding the glass in her hand.
Her second glass of wine was settling nicely in Liv’s chest, loosening the knots she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying all week. Prentiss’ apartment was always her safe place. Warm, quiet, smelling faintly of books and the faintest trace of lavender detergent. Sergio roamed quietly around her feet. It was the kind of space where Liv felt secure. Her first place to attend the moment her engagement ended.
She had become best friends with Prentiss’ couch on the first week after her breakup.
But tonight, the truth itched in her tongue.
She swirls the wine in her glass, biting her lip and glancing at Prentiss, who was stretched comfortably on the couch, black hair falling into her face. The sight made her chest squeeze. She had been there through everything. College, VICAP, the job, Dean, the wedding disaster. She was the maid of honor Liv never got to have. If there’s anyone who deserved to know, it was her.
“Em.” Liv began carefully, her voice wobbling. “I have something to tell you, but promise me you won’t freak out.”
Prentiss lifted her brows immediately suspicious. “That’s a dangerous opener.”
“Promise me you won’t freak out.” Liv repeats and Prentiss’ eyes narrow.
“If you tell me you went back with Dean, I’ll kill you. We had enough with going back with exes when you dated the lawyer.” She crosses her arms.
“Not back with Dean. Promise me you won’t freak out!” Liv squeaks.
“I promise!” Prentiss squeaks back.
Liv inhaled deeply, nerves fizzing through her veins. Then quickly, like ripping off a band-aid she says.
“Reid and I have been dating for five months.”
There was a pause. A long pause where they just stared at each other. Liv was secretly ready to take Sergio and use him as a shield in case Emily had her gun casually lying around. Then Prentiss sat up so fast her wine nearly sloshed over the rim, and Liv mentally visualized the way out of the door.
“Five... what?” She frowns a little, closing her eyes as if to make sure she heard right.
Liv winces, holding up her hands like she is facing down an unsub with a gun. “You promised not to freak out!”
“I’m not freaking out, I’m... actually no. I am freaking out! Five months? Five months!?” Prentiss sets the glass down with a sharp clink. “A year ago I was going to be your bridesmaid and now you let me in a dark about your new relationship for five months! A relationship with Reid? Reid?!”
Liv’s cheeks burned, but she couldn’t help a tiny laugh slipping through at the way Prentiss says his name, like it was both a revelation and a crime. “I know. I know. I know. And I wanted to tell you. God, I did. I wanted to tell you everything. But if I had, you would’ve told Morgan, and we know that Morgan is a huge gossiper! He can’t keep a secret from Garcia!”
“You are a big gossiper too!” Prentiss counteracts. “Are you seriously telling me that all the months we have been encouraging Reid to ask you out, you two have been already dating?! All the months I’ve been telling you to open yourself to the possibility of love you have been dating Reid?!”
“Don’t yell at me. I’m fragile.” Liv lifts a finger. “We didn’t want it to become a shit show!” Liv throws her hands up. “You’re my person, Em. And I really wanted to tell you because you have been the most amazing friend I’ve ever had, but I wasn’t ready yet. We weren’t ready yet. We were figuring it out.”
“For five months?!” Prentiss responds. “I thought you were still picking up your heart after the Dean situation. You were picking up Reid!”
“You’re making me sound really bad, Em.” Liv tilts her head.
Prentiss takes a deep breath. “Does anyone else know?”
Liv winces. “JJ and Hotch.” She admitted sheepishly.
Prentiss’ head whipped around. “JJ and Hotch? You told Reid’s best friend and your boss before telling me?”
“We didn’t tell them!” Liv rushes out. “JJ caught us kissing in the middle of a grocery store, and we couldn’t exactly pretend we were undercover buying candles.”
Prentiss’ jaw drops, then snaps shut, then drops again. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“And Hotch figured it out... Kind of. Reid was kind of obvious.” Liv tilts her head. “But you? I’m choosing to tell you! Because I love you!”
Prentiss lets out a humorless laugh, collapsing back into the cushions. “Oh, that makes me feel so much better.”
Liv slides closer, deciding that she doesn’t want to kill her or she doesn’t have her gun around to do so, either way, Liv is comfortable. “Don’t be mad. You’re still my person. I just needed it to be solid.”
“Is it now?” Prentiss looks at her.
Liv smiles, small but certain, the kind that tugs at the corner of her lips like it was carved there by something warm and steady. She swirls the wine in her glass again, not meeting Emily’s eyes, but it doesn’t matter. Emily sees it anyway.
She exhales through her nose, a long, quiet sound, and then says with a wry little shake of her head. “Goddammit Liv. He’s treating you right, isn’t he?
Liv blinks, startled, then laughs nervously. “That’s not what I said...”
“You didn’t have to.” Emily gestures vaguely at her, like Liv’s entire expression is evidence. “I know that smile. It’s not your tequila-smuggler smile. That’s your content smile. I haven’t seen it since before you even started dating Dean.”
Liv’s cheeks warm instantly. She ducks her head, staring into the dark red swirl of her glass. “You make it sound so obvious.”
“It is obvious.” Emily softens, her voice quiet not. “He’s good to you. I can tell. I’ve seen you crawl out the wreckage of bad relationships before, Liv. I’ve seen you cry everyday over a relationship that you swore was happy. This is the opposite. This is you finally breathing again.”
For a moment, Liv can’t find words. She swallows hard and tries for humor. “Don’t make me cry, I’m only on my second glass. That’s not an excuse for drunk crying.”
Emily chuckles, clinks her own glass against Liv’s. “Fine, but if Reid ever makes you lose that smile, I’ll kill him. Painfully.”
Liv smiles. Sergio jumps onto the couch then, curling up between them, and Liv leans her head lightly on Emily’s shoulder, letting out a breath that feels like a release. “You’re really not mad?”
Emily’s arm comes around her without hesitation. “Mad you didn’t tell me sooner? Yes. Happy that you finally found someone who makes you look like this? Absolutely.”
Liv smiles lightly and drinks another sip of her wine. “Do you think he’ll want to marry me?” Her lip wobbles.
Emily freezes for a fraction of a second, then lets out a low, amused sigh. “I can’t tell you that.” She responds, and Liv cocks her lip. “But I can tell you that he looks at you like you hung the moon especially for him. Morgan has been teasing him for months about it. Of course, we didn’t know you were dating.”
“I just... Kind of convinced myself that I didn’t want to get married, but the more I’m with him, the more I keep imagining a future, and I don’t know if I have the right.” Liv’s lip wobbled again.
“Liv, you deserve the future you want, the happy marriage and all the twenty children you want running around...”
“Twenty?” Liv asks before knocking on the wood of the coffee table. “Two is fine.”
Prentiss smiles. “Two, then. You don’t have to convince yourself you don’t want that just because it didn’t work out with one dude. I think any guy would be very lucky to be your husband, and I think Reid would be an idiot if a future with you doesn’t cross his mind.”
Liv nods, like the answer is enough. She had missed this. Consulting Prentiss every time she felt the butterflies in her stomach of a crush on a guy, talking to her about everything in her chest, asking her for romantic advice, even though Prentiss’ romantic life was as lame as hers. It was just what pulled them closer when nothing else could.
An hour later, when Prentiss and Liv are laughing at one of Liv’s cousin’s story, her third glass of wine finished in the coffee table, a knock comes at the door.
Prentiss looks at her. “Who’s that?”
Liv bites her lip. “Reid.”
Prentiss blinks once, then lets her glass down with deliberate calm. “You invited him here?”
“I told him to pick me up! I’m tipsy, I can’t drive!” Liv says defensive.
“I drove you here from office!” Prentiss replies and Liv frowns.
“Huh.” Liv tilts her head.
Before Liv can do anything, Prentiss is already walking towards the door, opening it with confidence. Reid is standing on the other side, his eyes go to Olivia and they spark in a way that makes her heart skip, then he looks at Prentiss.
“Good evening, Prentiss.” He salutes, Liv’s mentor nods slowly.
“If you hurt her, I’ll kill you.” She deadpans.
“Emily!” Liv crosses her arms over her chest.
“And I’m serious.” Emily continues.
“I’m sure you are.” Reid nods.
“I’ll go get my purse. Don’t kill him.” Liv points at her friend. “Please.”
Liv scrambles to the living room as fast as possible. She takes a look at the mess in the coffee table, the half empty wine bottle and the snacks. She picks them up, taking them to the kitchen, careful not to trip on Sergio, who’s casually loafing on the floor. She’s equally distracted from the alcohol buzzing softly in her head and the cute cat she wants to pick up and hug.
“Reid, Olivia has been through a lot. And she’s not only a colleague for me, or a mentoree. She’s family, I love her as if I had birthed her myself, and I can’t stand seeing her with a broken heart again. Not after last time.” She hears Prentiss voice, her heart dips.
“Emily. If I ever hurt her, I would give you the loaded gun myself.” He exhales, like words are too big for his lungs. “I don’t know how I lived thirty-two years without her.”
Liv freezes, her fingers brushing the hem of one of their glasses. She knows she shouldn’t hear this, that she should give them their privacy and not eavesdrop, still, is like she can’t move, like she’s suspended in time listening to him.
“I’ve tried to put it into words. I’ve really tried. But there are not enough words in English... or Russian or Spanish or any language I know that can describe how she makes me feel. There is not a simple or complex way of explaining it. I’ve read everything, psychology, biology, literature, sociology, even religion. Nothing is capable of explaining all the things I feel when she smiles, it’s like it resets something in me. I’m not sure if I deserve her, but I’ll spend every day trying to.”
It feels like Liv’s heart stops. She’s sure no one has ever described her in that way. That no one has ever thought of her that way. She’s not supposed to hear it. She isn’t supposed to know the depth of it. The kind of devotion that terrifies her. The kind of she thought Dean had when she had said yes to his proposal.
And yet, here was Spencer Reid, the man who could unravel the universe in equations and probabilities, saying her name like it was the only constant he trusted.
“I just keep remembering how everything felt before she walked into my life. When everything seemed right but it wasn’t. God it wasn’t. It was quiet, way too much. A deafening silence that I don’t miss at all. And boring, and so repetitive, and lonely. I don’t know how I could live like that because now I can’t even imagine not having her around, even if she comes with silly questions and hyperactivity when sugar is around. I don’t mind it because she’s here, and she’s with me, and now it all feels right, and amazing, and I don’t even want life to be like it was before her.”
Liv’s eyes threaten to tear, but she blinks away, forcing herself to focus on the dishes in front of her that she washes quickly. She hears the muffled sounds of a conversation continuing, but doesn’t pay attention to it, scared that if she does she might cry.
She decides to make noise. “Sergio, I’m going, please don’t cry. I love you.” She says loud enough for them to hear, just as she picks up the cat. “You’re the cutest ever.” She marches toward Prentiss and Reid, who had snapped their heads towards her. “You’re still alive. That’s good.” She smiles, hugging Sergio tighter against her chest.
Reid looks at her, sparkling hazel eyes giving her his every attention. “Are you ready?”
She carefully puts Sergio back in the floor. “Yeah.” She smiles.
She hugs Emily tightly, and Emily hugs her back and lays a soft kiss on her cheek. “Call me when you’re sober. Let me know you didn’t fall into an ethyl coma.”
Liv chuckles. “It takes more than three glasses of wine to get me drunk. Trust me, I’ve had complete bottles.” She takes Reid’s hand and walks with him outside.
The ride back home is quiet. She doesn’t even care where he’s driving to. She’s curled up in the passenger seat, her head tilted towards Spencer like he’s the most fascinating thing on earth. Her eyes linger on him, shameless and loving, as though memorizing the slope of his nose and the way the streetlights painted his jaw in gold every few seconds.
“You’re really handsome, you know that?” She says suddenly, voice dreamy.
Reid presses a soft kiss to her knuckles. “You mentioned that before, about five times in the last five minutes.”
“Well, it’s true.” She smiles, looking at him like he was the Sistine Chappel. “I sometimes think that the universe might realize it made a mistake and be like ‘Oops, mix-up, she doesn’t get to have him.’ She blinks at him owlishly, trying to process her own confession through the haze. Then, to cover the sting of honesty, she adds. “I love this song.” And turns the volume up, even if she has never heard the goddamn song.
She should’ve known Spencer would drive to his apartment instead of hers. She only realized that when he pulled into the parking lot. It made sense. She’s tipsy, and his place is closer to Emily’s, which meant less time on the road.
Spencer opens the door for her and walks her to the elevator with one hand on the small of her back to give her support, even though she’s not drunk enough not to be able to walk straight. Liv looks at him all through the elevator ride like he hung the stars just for her, it’s ridiculous, but she figures she can appreciate her boyfriend as much as she wants to.
He opens the door, and she immediately smiles, walking to Socrates’ fish-tank. “Hi, Socrates.” The fish doesn’t even acknowledge her, he swims happily across his castle. “You said that bettas can remember up to five months.”
“They do.” Reid responds, approaching her. “Sit on the couch, please.”
She obeys, still looking at the fish. “We have been dating for five months. Which means we have been dating for the memory span of Socrates.” Liv says, just as Reid sits on the coffee table right in front of her. He smiles.
“That’s right.” He responds as he methodically removes one of her boots. “He recognizes you.”
“It doesn’t look like it.” She frowns a bit; he removes the second boot.
“You come consistently to my apartment, feed him and stare at him a lot. He recognizes you, at least a bit.” He responds, carefully placing a strand of her behind her ear. “Stay still for a minute, okay?”
Liv hums in reply, her gaze follows him like he’s the most incredible thing to existence. When he leaves the room, she goes back to looking at the betta. He comes back exactly one minute later, carrying a bottle she recognizes, her makeup remover, the one she has been using for years. Except this one is new. Unopened.
Her chest clenches. She knows she didn’t buy it, so he must have. She wonders what other products of her liking he has gotten. The idea of Spencer at a Target aisle checking skincare for her favorites is almost laughable, but also so sweet it makes her heart ache.
He takes his place at the coffee table, carefully taking a makeup remover wipe and adding more of her favorite makeup remover like she does every night. She didn’t think he had noticed how methodical her night routine is, but of course he did. He notices everything about her. He wipes her eyeliner and mascara softly, in a way that doesn’t irritate her skin.
“I can do that.” She comments, closing her eyes when the wipe approaches them again.
“I know.” He gently presses the pad to her cheek. “But I want to take care of you.”
She looks at him, enamored. She doesn’t understand how she got so lucky. How she could settle for relationships where the guy gave her the bare minimum when this man was out there, willing to remove her makeup and buy her flowers and dinner just because, treating her so delicately it was almost hurtful in the sweetest of ways.
“You would be a great husband.” She comments, almost to herself. Thinking that the girl who gets to marry him, whoever it is, will be very lucky.
“Would I?” He asks and she nods, closing her eyes again.
He smirks, and she smiles. “What?”
“You look like a raccoon.” He comments, making her chuckle. It takes a couple of minutes before all the makeup is removed.
He leans and presses a soft kiss to her forehead before standing again. She has the warmest feeling in her chest. Like if the sun had just decided to settle between her ribs and wasn’t planning on moving. He returns in his Caltech shirt and a pair of sweatpants. The one she always uses when she stays over. She walks to the bathroom and changes into it, finding an exact layout of the skincare in her bathroom over the sink, she stares at it for a long minute, heart beating rapidly at the sweet gesture. Only he would buy all of the stuff she likes. Only he would remember and replicate the way it’s settled in her house.
When she goes out, he’s waiting, sitting in the corner of the bed, he smiles when she approaches, moving some soft curls away from his face.
“You’re so handsome.” She whispers almost conspiratorially, like it is a secret just between them.
“Why are we whispering?” He responds in the same way, making her smile.
“Because Socrates might get jealous if he hears. I tell him he’s handsome too.” She says, and he laughs.
She crawls onto bed next to him, the Caltech shirt hanging loosely on her. She traces the outline of one of the tiny dinosaurs on the sheets with a tiny smile on her face. He pulls her closer, nestling her against his chest in the nicest of ways before covering them with the comforter. He kisses the crown of her hair sweetly.
And then again, the words spill out. “Have you ever thought about marrying me?” Her words come out slowly, carefully, almost vulnerably in a way that makes her chest flutter with nerves.
His fingers trace absent circles against her arms, the silence between them warm and heavy. Then he exhales, like he’s been holding something for years.
“You know... when I found out you’d been engaged,” He starts, voice low, almost cautious. “I got really mad.”
Liv tilts her head, eyes searching his face. “Mad?” She repeats softly, unsure where he’s going.
He nods, his jaw tightens for a second. “Yeah. It was irrational. Completely irrational. You’d just joined the BAU, we barely knew each other, and I had no right to feel anything about it. But... I did.” His voice wavers, eyes flicking away as if ashamed of the admission. “The idea of you walking down the aisle to someone who wasn’t me...” He breaks off, shaking his head with a sharp breath. “It made me feel sick.”
Liv just stares at him, heart lodged in her throat.
Reid looks back at her, finally letting her see all the rawness in his expression. “It was jealousy, plain and simple. And it didn’t make sense, because I didn’t even know if you’d ever feel the same about me. But even then... I couldn’t picture you belonging to anyone else. I didn’t want to.”
Her lips part, but no words come out.
He swallows, pushing through the weight of the confession. “I kept telling myself it was stupid, that I was overreacting. But every time I imagine you in a wedding dress, I can’t stand the thought of you walking toward anyone but me.”
The silence stretches, thick with the honesty he’s just spilled.
Liv’s eyes sting, and she cups his face gently, grounding him with her touch. “Spencer...” She breathes, her voice trembling with equal parts awe and heartbreak.
“I know it wasn’t rational.” He murmurs again, eyes softening as he leans into her hand. “But the truth is, even back then... even when I didn’t fully understand it yet... some part of me already knew. You’re the one I want. So yes. I’ve thought about marrying you a lot. I keep imagining so much that I sometimes believe it actually happened. But it’s happening, if you want to, of course, because I cannot imagine ever letting you go, ever.”
Liv swallows, resting her chin on his chest. “Good. I don’t want to leave. Ever.” She whispers, he smiles a bit. “I’m so glad I didn’t get married.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, I’m so glad you didn’t get married too. So incredibly glad.”
Liv continues. “I’m glad it wasn’t him because now, every time I think about walking down the aisle... I see you on the other side of it.”
That makes his breath hitch. He kisses her temple again, sweetly, and she just lets herself drift into sleep in his arms. In what she considers to be the best place on earth. Her leg eventually curls around his, and her arm rests softly over his heart, as if she needed to feel his heartbeat to make sure he’s real, and she didn’t just imagine it all.
The following weeks were simple, after two weeks of being home, no trace of a serial killer or the need of an expert group of profilers, she kind of felt like she was back at VICAP. The familiarity of homemade food, the quiet return to home and sleeping on her bed without working over hours and running around everywhere. Quiet dinners with Spencer, listening to his facts and saving them somewhere in her brain. It was nice.
Then, JJ arrived with the case. A series of murders in Arizona, Nevada and New Mexico. All the murders occur in a motel room, all of them in the 365. Different MOs, different states. The only thing they have in common is the place.
“It doesn’t add up.” Morgan groans, frustrated. “Different weapons, different signatures. We’re missing something.”
“I need JJ here.” Liv blinks, looking at the whiteboard in front of her.
“I’m here.” JJ responds. Liv sighs, looking at her, and a laugh bubbles out of her.
“Sorry. Wrong JJ. I need JJ, my JJ. VICAP’S JJ.” She responds, leaning on the table.
“Your JJ?” Morgan raises a brow.
“You guys are used to group work, in VICAP we aren’t. We’re by ourselves.” Liv starts. “It’s really competitive, kind of unhealthy now that I think so. If you checked files and you didn’t find anything but someone else did on the same files, you got ‘called out’. JJ and I used to ask each other to check each other’s work to make sure we weren’t missing anything. We were by ourselves, but we were partners.” She explains and then looks at Hotch. “Can I bring him?”
“Do it.” He responds.
Just as the times JJ asks her to go down to VICAP and check his work, even if they don’t work in the same division anymore, JJ arrives with Liv less than ten minutes later. She laughs at something that he says about scamming call scammers, and it feels like them all over again.
VICAP JJ leans against the table, a knowing smile tugs his lips. “I think I get it already.” He says, but it’s teasing, and Liv rolls her eyes.
“You always think you get it too fast.” She mutters, flipping through motel reports spread across the table.
“Okay, partner.” He says, using the old VICAP nickname they used, Liv can’t help but grin. It’s ridiculous, but comforting. The world shrinks down to just the two of them, the whiteboard and a sea of crime reports.
Hours pass. Reid is furiously scribbling facts, Morgan has his head in his hands, Rossi is leaning back like this sis some sort of entertainment, and Hotch is secretly watching, eyebrows knitted.
Olivia taps a line of numbers on the spreadsheet. “See there?” She says, voice sharp, pointing at the cheek-in times. “Every single victim booked between ten pm and two am, right during local conventions.”
Morgan squints. “So what? Lots of people stays at motels during conventions.
Liv shoots him a look, then turns to JJ, who’s already tracing a pattern across the states on the wall map. “The weapon changes make sense now.” He states and Liv nods.
“Care to explain?” Rossi asks, Liv groans because they’re clearly not in the same headspace as JJ and her.
“He adapts at what’s available, the timing and location are consistent. See?” Liv points at the whiteboard.
“It makes so much sense.” JJ nods.
Prentiss frowns. “I don’t get it.”
“The MO doesn’t matter.” Reid whispers to himself.
Morgan groans again. “I still don’t get it.”
“It’s like the unsub is playing hopscotch. The squares change, but the rhythm and the pattern of the jumps is the same.”
“We study signatures... Not whatever this is.”
“Yeah, but in this case, the signature isn’t the weapon or method. It’s in the timing and placement. That’s what we’ve been missing.”
Liv slaps the whiteboard. “And here’s the fun part. We can predict the next move. Check the calendar, find the next big convention, and bingo. The next target is probably a motel that fits his pattern. Cash only, with a 365 room number, close enough to the conventions so people attending them will stay there, far enough not to be overcrowded with people at all times.”
“Great.” JJ smiles and she smiles back at him.
Rossi leans forward. “I think I get it...” He starts.
“You think? How confident are you?” JJ asks, BAU’s JJ.
Liv laughs. “I know it’s not out usual profiler style. But patterns exist in the chaos. Sometimes the signature isn’t in the body but in the opportunity. That’s why JJ and I see it.”
“Can you predict where he will strike next?” Hotch asks and Liv and JJ stare at each other for a moment.
“Well.” JJ leans over the map. “Southwest corridor. I’d say he’s not going far from his last strikes.”
Liv points to the neighboring states. “Utah, Colorado, Idaho, Texas, maybe Oregon. California is to big, the conventions are huge. The unsub isn’t risking it.” She crosses her arms over her chest. She pulls out her phone and calls Garcia. “Hey baby girl.”
Morgan, who’s leaning against the table nearby, freezes. “What did you call her?”
Garcia laughs over the phone. “Not who I was expecting it from, but if I pretty girl calls me baby girl, I’ll take it.”
Liv smiles and Morgan frowns. “Oh, hell no. That’s my line, find your own, baby girl, Ortiz.”
Liv laughs at it. “Penn, I need you to find conventions in the neighboring states. In the next week, big conventions, with a lot of hostelries movement around it.”
“On it.” Penelope says. The sound of erratic writing on a keyboard fills the line for a couple of seconds before she talks. “There’s a Mormon convention on Salt Lake City right now.” She states. “It’s like the Mormon Mecca. It moves around three million dollars annually in hospitality business.”
“There you are.” Liv smiles. “Now we need to find the chosen motel and put surveillance over it.”
“That might be a little more difficult.” Penelope starts. “I’m getting four hundred motels in the Salt Lake City area. Most of them fully booked because of the convention. We’ll need multiple teams of surveillance, and even then...” She trails off, frustration clear.
Liv blinks. “How many police officers are in Utah?”
Reid, who’s been quietly tapping through hotel occupancy charts doesn’t miss a beat. “About seventeen thousand sworn officers statewide. Probably around fifteen hundred assigned to Salt Lake City proper.”
Liv freezes for a second, staring at him. “You’re sick.”
He tilts his head, his voice calm. “I just did the math.”
JJ and Liv stare at each other for a moment, then they look back at Reid. “You’re sick.” They say in unison. “Jinx.” JJ smiles.
Liv runs her hands over her face. “Four hundred motels. I thought motels are just places where people go have sex, why are so many motels in the Mormon capital?” Liv asks. JJ snorts by her side.
“Because Mormons go there to soak it up.” JJ says, obviously, Liv laughs. “If you were Mormon, I would jump on the mattress for you.”
Liv smiles and lays a hand over his. “I can always count on you.”
Prentiss snorts. “Get serious.”
“Four hundred motels. Four hundred motels. We can do this.” She looks at JJ, he drinks a sip of his coffee. “Remember when we narrowed down the parks in the whole state of New York?”
“Those were a lot of parks.” He agreed.
“And we didn’t have Garcia. Garcia, you have no idea of how much I love you. That took us weeks.” Liv nods again. “Four hundred. We can do this.”
And they do. An hour and a half later, the four hundred list narrowed down to fourteen. Liv paces back and forth, stealing sips of Reid’s coffee. By then, the team had gone back to the bullpen or their offices, leaving JJ, Liv and Reid on the briefing room.
“Isn’t fourteen a good enough number?” JJ asks, and Liv sighs sitting next to Reid.
“We’re working on predictions. We have to get it right.” Liv caresses Reid’s nape gently, nails scraping softly against his scalp.
“Fourteen motels are manageable.” Hotch’s voice breaks in as he steps into the room. Liv’s hand stops touching Reid as if he was made of fire.
Liv exhales, restless, she grabs a marker. “Okay, but the unsub doesn’t pick at random. He’s opportunistic but deliberate.” She circles three motels on the map. “These are near the busier convention centers. Too much traffic, too much risk.”
JJ leans over. “That leaves eleven.”
“And if we factor in his preference for cash only independent chains...” His hands dart to the motel list, crossing out four more. “That narrows it to seven.”
“Seven motels.” Liv taps the marker against her palm. “That’s a lot better than fourteen.”
“I hope your predictions are correct.” Hotch looks at JJ and her sharply. “We leave to Salt Lake City in thirty.” He says and Liv stands up. “Agent Jonas, I don’t know how to thank you for your help.”
“You don’t have to. Beliv is buying me lunch for the next couple of weeks.” JJ says and Liv scoffs.
“I can’t even treat myself for lunch, you wish.” Liv approaches him and hugs him tightly. “I love you, you know that, right?”
“Love you too, partner.”
Liv accompanies JJ back to VICAP and finds Spencer in front of the elevator, holding their go bags, she smiles at him as she takes it and they walk to the jet.
Liv tucks herself in the seat beside Prentiss, grateful to let her shoulders drop after the whirlwind of charts and maps. Reid was already fidgeting with a pen, the telltale shine in his eyes that meant his brain wasn’t winding down anytime soon.
“Did you know...” Reid started, not even waiting for takeoff. “that Doctor Who was originally conceived as a children’s educational program? It was supposed to alternate between historical episodes and science-based episodes. But then they introduced the Daleks in 1963, and suddenly it became this...”
He launched into the story, hands moving, words tumbling like dominoes. And Liv... She leaned her head on her fist and listened. She knew people usually politely did when he would get going. She really listened, her mouth twitching with every little tangent. He kept glancing at her like she was waiting for her to zone out, but she didn’t.
She was raised on people talking too much. With her parents, dinner wasn’t small talk, it was impassioned debates over tacos of dubious origins, fueled by stubborn pride and salsa that burned the tongue. If Reid wanted to wax poetic about Daleks and time travel, it almost felt like home.
Plus, Liv kept thinking that he looked too cute when he got excited about a topic.
“...So technically, if you wanted to model the physics of a Tardis, you’d have to calculate non-Euclidean geometry... Which is fascinating because...”
“Stop scaring the girl, Reid.” Morgan’s voice cuts from across the aisle, his tone hald exasperated, half teasing.
Liv tilts her head back.
Reid blinks, startled, like he’d only just realized how far he’d spiraled. He turns to Liv, his expression remorseful but his voice soft. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to overwhelm you.”
Her heart actually twisted at the way he said it, so careful, like an apology was owed for being himself.
“Don’t worry. You tell me later, okay?” She offers and he blinks again, this time, his mouth twitches at the corner.
They get to Salt Lake City in a couple hours, and then things go crazy. It takes them two solid day to build a profile of the unsub, who hasn’t struck since the New Mexico murder. Every day that they don’t get a new murder case is a day Olivia is equally nervous at the idea of her and VICAP JJ messing the whole investigation, as she’s thankful for it.
Then, it happens. Hotch’s phone rings and the whole team looks up at him. “Garcia.”
“Sir. I cross-referenced the names the motels provided. Here’s something interesting. There are three men who stayed in the motels where the murders occurred at the time of the murders. All three of them checked out right after the murders.”
“Three suspects.” Liv frowns a little.
“It gets weirder. Two of them fit the profile to a T, but here’s something interesting. Bruno Lincotti is one of them. He grew up in foster care after his dad died of a heart attack in a motel in Nevada when he was seven years old. They were celebrating the New Year together.
“What year?” Prentiss asks.
“1984.” Garcia responds.
Reid frowns a bit by Liv’s side, and she looks at him. “That was a leap year. He watched his dad die on the day three hundred and sixty-six of the year. That’s why he’s killing in that specific number”
“It gets better. He used his credit card in an ATM in Salt Lake City two hours ago.” Garcia finishes. “Liv’s prediction was right.”
“Is there any motel that fits the prediction in the five mile radius?” Rossi asks.
The sound of clicking keys invades the line for a long second. “One. Morning Sunridge. Cash only, no security cameras.”
“This guy is unpredictable.” Rossi cuts in. “He adapts. Different weapons, different signatures. He’s not going to play the same game twice if he feels boxed in.”
“That’s exactly why we need Reid.” Hotch’s eyes flick across the team, lingering on Spencer. “Lincotti is stuck reliving his father’s death. He’s chasing that trauma. If anyone can reach him it’s someone who knows loss, someone who can connect without judgement.”
Liv hates the way he says it. As if all of Reid’s traumas were up for sale. As if it was a strength instead of something tragic. She can see in his eyes that he’s not very happy either. Still, he puts on the FBI vest.
“Reid, you don’t carry your gun half of the time.” Liv comments as he gets wired.
“I’m not using it anyways.”
Liv blinks, her brow furrowing slowly. “Not using it?”
“No.” He responds. “If I don’t make it back I want you to remember one thing.”
Liv freezes. “If you don’t make it back?”
He leans a little closer. “I requested a fluffy, fur-covered coffin. For dramatic effect.”
Olivia gasps. “That’s my request!” She still bursts of laughing, the tension in her chest loosening for a fraction of a second.
“You ready, pretty boy?” Morgan asks and Reid looks at Liv one second before nodding.
Liv hops in the blinded SUV with Morgan, realizing that in her months on the BAU she’s never spent one single drive with him. It was what she needed though. Her unseriousness matched his capacity to make jokes even in the worsts moments. By the time he pulls to the parking lot of the Sunridge Motel, they’re both wheezing for air. It makes her forget momentarily that Spencer is putting himself in the worst position possible with a volatile unsub.
Spencer and Liv look at each other.
The weight of the situation is all over them. She smiles lightly and he smiles back. She’s probably more nervous than he is. He has been working in the field for a decade, he has been unsub bait for years before Liv even joined the FBI. He must know damn well what he’s doing. She can see the focus in his eyes. He’s already running through the plan, scanning the building in his mind, mapping exits, calculating risks.
Still, they never know how the unsubs will act. They could predict it, but he could do anything to him.
Her chest feels heavy. She doesn’t want to be negative but she knows he might not come back.
She decides. The thought doesn’t take more than a couple of seconds. She stands on her tiptoes and presses a kiss on his lips, it takes a moment to register what’s happening in his brain but one of his hands closes around her waist as he kisses her back.
“I love you.” Liv almost whispers, the corners of his lips tug up. The confession doesn’t feel scary or heavy, it doesn’t make her afraid of what he’ll say. Partly because she’s sure she knows his response.
“I love you too.” He responds. It makes her stomach flutter.
“Come back, okay?” She asks but she presses a soft kiss on the crown of her head.
“You ask for an awful lot, darling.” He looks at her one last time before walking into the building.
Liv turns to the team.
There is a long quiet moment where everyone just processes what they just saw. Morgan is frowning, JJ has a grin ear to ear, Prentiss is smiling slightly, her arms crossed over her chest and Rossi... His eyebrows are so high up they might actually reach his hairline.
“Did you just...” Morgan starts before blinking. “Please tell me I’m hallucinating and Olivia and Reid didn’t just kiss.”
“I got bad news for you, buddy.” Prentiss responds. “They’re dating”
“Dating?!” Morgan looks at Liv. She nods.
“How long has this been going on for?” Rossi finally asks.
“Six months tomorrow.” Liv responds. Morgan shakes his head.
“Six months!? Six months?! You guys have been dating for six months and we didn’t notice it?!” Morgan asks and Liv just shrugs.
“I guess you can keep secrets from profilers after all.”
“Did you know about it?” Rossi asks Prentiss.
“Liv just had the decency of telling me two weeks ago.” Prentiss narrows her eyes at Liv, still pissed.
“I think that grudges are very bad for you.” Liv places a hand on her shoulder.
“You don’t look surprised.” Morgan points, looking at JJ.
“Oh, I’ve known it for months.” JJ smiles.
“She knew and we didn’t!?” Morgan whines.
“Focus, Morgan.” Hotch’s tone is sharp.
“You knew!” Morgan points at Hotch. “Did everyone know except Rossi and I?” He says, offended.
“No.” Liv frowns. “HR doesn’t know it yet.”
“Because that makes me feel so much better!”
“Morgan.” Hotch cuts.
The team moves around the motel, covering every single crevice of it, giving the team the insight they cannot get from the lack of cameras. They are everywhere, except in room 366, where she wishes they were. Liv knows she needs to be as calmed as possible. He knows what he’s doing, and she can’t allow her emotions to get in the way of her job.
She knows what she has to do. Her gun is aimed at the window, trying to get a shot in case it’s necessary. But Spencer handles the situation as smoothly as only he can.
“Bruno, my name is Spencer. I’m here to listen. That’s all.” His voice carries through, calm, steady. Liv holds to her comm like her life depends on it.
“No one ever listens! He died and no one cared!” Bruno yells, Liv spends a long moment looking at him. Spencer doesn’t flinch, doesn’t look fazed by the menace.
Hotch talks through the comm. “Hold positions. He’s engaging with him.”
Liv knows that if the unsub dares to even take one step close to him, she would shoot him in the head. She doesn’t care about anything that isn’t him, making it out safe and sound.
“Bruno, this doesn’t have to end the way it did for your father. You don’t have to keep re-living that nightmare.”
Liv’s throat tightens. Just as Bruno’s grip on the knife, his knuckles white. The hostage, a girl barely out of her teens, hiccups through her tears.
“You don’t get it!” Bruno’s voice cracks. “He was all I had, and he left me there! Just me, in that room, with his body.” His voice shatters. “No one even came. No one cared!”
Spencer doesn’t move closer. His hands are low, palms open. “I care. I know what it feels like to lose someone and think that the world doesn’t care. But I’m here, Bruno. Right now, someone is listening.”
Liv bites her lip. Her finger hovers over the trigger. She wants to storm in there, she wants to rip Spencer out of the unsub’s orbit. But he’s so damn calm.
“Your dad’s death wasn’t your fault.” Spencer’s voice softens. “You were a kid. You were scared, but you survived. And if you’ve been surviving ever since. But if you keep doing this, you’re going to trap yourself in that motel room forever.”
Bruno’s face contorts. For one awful second, he jerks the knife up, closer to the hostage’s throat. Liv sucks in a breath, her finger twitching...
“Bruno.” Spencer’s voice cuts through, low but firm. Put it down. You’ve carried this weight since 1984. You can let it go. You don’t have to bleed it into other people. You can walk out of here alive. You can give her a chance to walk out too.”
The room is suffocating silent. Liv holds her breath, muscles coiled tight.
Then, metal hits carpet. The knife slips from Bruno’s hand and lands with a dull thud. He cruples, sobbing into his palms.
“Suspect down.” Liv speaks into the comm. Lowering her gun. She watches Hotch and Rossi enter the room, guns aimed at Lincotti.
She watches him step out of the room and it feels like her heart works again. She takes a deep breath and finally makes her way back with the rest of the team. She hears over the comm the people rushing to make sure Spencer is fine.
“Where is she?” He asks as she emerges from behind the building.
His eyes meet hers and it takes him a couple of moments to get to her. His arms round her steadily, as if the one who had been having a one on one conversation with a killer was her and not him.
His arms are warm, grounding, and Liv doesn’t realize how bad she’s shaking until she’s pressed against his chest. She exhales like she’s been holding her breath for hours. Maybe she has.
“I hated that.” She confesses, her voice muffled against his shirt and he smiles against her forehead.
“That’s how I feel every time you decide to do something stupid. Like walking into a wired building.”
“You’re not letting that up, are you?”
“Never.” He murmurs, cradling her face and lays a soft kiss on her lips.
“This feels weird.” Morgan comments. Making Liv laugh. “Like illegal. Please separate, seeing Reid kissing someone makes me uncomfortable.”
“If I would’ve known that me dating Reid would rattle you this much, I might’ve made out with him in front of you sooner just for the funsies.”
Prentiss snorts, removing her vest. “She absolutely would’ve.”
Spencer’s hand tightens at her waist, grounding her again, and she looks up at him. His eyes are soft in a way that makes her throat ache. For a second, the chaos of the motel, just fades.
Hotch breaks the moment with a sharp nod. “Good work. Let’s wrap it up and go back to Quantico.”
As the team scatters, Liv stays tucked against Spencer’s side. She’s still trembling faintly, but he doesn’t call her out on it. He just keeps her close, his thumb brushing idle circles at her hip.
An hour later, the hum of the engines is steady, almost soothing. Liv had her head tucked against Spencer’s chest; his hand absentmindedly combs through her hair in a way that makes her eyes grow heavy. She wasn’t planning on any of this. On telling the team that they’re together, of giving herself the pleasure of cuddling her boyfriend on the way back home. Of sleeping in his arms in the jet.
Except Morgan wouldn’t allow it.
“So let me get this straight.” He says, leaning across the table, his voice far too loud for her taste. “Six months. You two have been sneaking around for six whole months.”
Liv cracked an eye open, squinting at him. “We weren’t sneaking. We just didn’t advertise.”
Morgan looked scandalized. “That’s sneaking. Six months. Six months, an none of us noticed.”
“Apparently.” Liv murmured into Spencer’s shirt, not moving an inch.
“That’s wild.” Morgan continues, ignoring her flat tone. “What was the first date? Did he, like, bring flashcards? Quote a philosopher at you?
“Derek.” Her voice is muffled against Spencer’s shirt, but the sharpness cut through, She pulls her blanket further into her, so it covers her almost completely and covers Spencer’s legs as well. “I’m trying to sleep.”
“You’re not getting out of this easy, Ortiz.” Morgan smirked, clearly enjoying himself. “When did it start? Who made the first move?”
Liv finally tilted her head just enough to glare at him with one tired, blue eye. “It just happened.”
“That’s it? It just happened?”
“Yes.” She shut her eye again, nestling back into Spencer’s side. “People fall in love. It happens. Now shut up.”
Morgan chuckles, shaking his head, but doesn’t press further. Spencer didn’t say a word, he just kept combing his fingers through Liv’s hair, gaze soft on her as if Morgan’s interrogation didn’t exist.
Thankfully, Morgan dropped the topic for the moment and Liv allowed herself to sleep, safe against Spencer’s shoulder, letting the hum of the jet drown down everything else.
Hours later, they arrive at Quantico, exhausted and hungry. Reid’s hand is warm over her as they step into the bullpen. Penelope is there, holding the biggest of smiles the moment the elevator doors open. She takes a look at their entwined fingers and grins even bigger.
“I knew there was something going on there! The whole FBI knows the BAU nerd is dating the BAU hottie.” She jumps excitedly.
“BAU nerd?” Spencer frowns.
“BAU hottie?” Olivia smiles. “I’ll take it.”
“Why is it so shocking a couple in the Bureau?” Reid asks, slightly tightening his grip on Olivia.
“It’s not any couple in the Bureau! It’s this couple! My little Doctor Genius of Quantico is happy with my favorite little menace!” Garcia fans herself dramatically. “You’re so cute together!”
Morgan strolls by them. “It’s not a couple in the Bureau. It’s a woman managing to tolerate Reid for six months what’s shocking. It’s a real miracle there.”
“Hey!” Reid complains, offended. It only makes Morgan grin wider.
“I think Morgan is jealous.” Liv concludes.
“Me? Jealous of Reid?” Morgan snorts.
“He’s got game and a girlfriend and you don’t.” She tilts her head, a mischievous grin tugging her lips.
The bullpen goes silent for a bear. Prentiss covers her mouth, JJ chokes back a laugh, Rossi raises his brows in delight.
“Game?” Morgan repeats, pointing at Reid. “This man quotes 18th century poetry at the wrong time of day.”
“And it’s a turn on. What do you have?” Liv leans forward, enjoying how Morgan gets progressively annoyed.
Morgan’s jaw drops. “What do I...? I have everything! Charm, looks, muscles…”
“...and no girlfriend.” Liv cuts in sweetly, tilting her head. “Everything except a girlfriend.”
The bullpen erupts. JJ nearly spits out her coffee, Prentiss doubles over with laughter and Rossi mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot like ‘She’s not wrong.’
“Don’t encourage her.” Morgan groans and Liv smiles, settling back against Reid like a cat who knows she’s won.
“Encourage her? She doesn’t need it. She handles you just fine.”
Prentiss wipes her eyes, still laughing. JJ shakes her head, muttering. “I can’t believe I just watched Olivia Ortiz verbally bodyslam Derek Morgan.”
Before Morgan can respond, Hotch’s office door opens. He surveys the bullpen like a general watching his soldiers fall apart on the battlefield. “Unless one of you has an active case to present, go home. That’s an order.”
The laughter dies down immediately, but the grins don’t. Morgan throws his hands up, muttering something about ‘unfair fights’ while Penelope gently rubs his back.
Reid guides Liv toward the elevators, followed by Prentiss and Morgan. His hand feels warm on her back. She tilts her head up to him, eyes gleaming with triumph. “Told you this was going to happen.” She says, smug.
He blinks down at her. “What?”
“The moment Morgan knew, the whole Bureau would know as well.”
Reid huffs, amused despite himself. “You were right.”
“I’m always right.” She murmurs, leaning into him as the elevator dings.
Just as the doors close, Liv tilts her head to press a soft kiss to his lips. Then another, a little longer, just to make sure Morgan can see.
He does. He fakes a gag and clutches to his chest like Reid just shot him with a gun. “You two are disgusting! Save some of that for the bedroom!”
Liv doesn’t even look at him. “Jealousy is an ugly color on you, Derek.” She leans her head against Reid’s shoulder.
Notes:
REID TAKING OFF LIV'S MAKEUP IS ANOTHER LEVEL OF SOFT I CANNOT TOLERATE BTW. THEY'RE SO DISGUSTINGLY IN LOVEEEEEE.
BerryHardtack on Chapter 1 Mon 21 Jul 2025 10:29PM UTC
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