#and this doesn’t mean I think he’s a horrible person nor that Penelope also doesn’t have things to apologize for as well | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

criminalmindzjunkie · 4 years

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Unlucky in Love

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Gif credit to @ogledalo-moje-duse

Summary: Spencer is unlucky in love - until he isn’t.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, some suggestive content

Word Count: 3.4k

Spencer Reid is, by most people’s definition, unlucky in love.

It wasn’t for lack of trying. In his early twenties, Spencer often caught himself fantasizing about being on the receiving end of some great storybook romance straight out of one of the classic novels on his bookshelf. On the rare occurrence where his mind was able to slow down long enough, Spencer would daydream about what his future partner would be like. Would they share his fondness for the written word, or his penchant for foreign cinema? Would they find his tendency to go off on tangents endearing and his less than fashionable style of dress charming? Spencer liked to think so, but the likelihood of finding someone who could accept him despite all of his quirks seemed low.

But still he hoped, even though he knew hope was a dangerous thing. Hope gave life to the possibility of disappointment – and if there was one thing Spencer did not need more of, it was that.

Spencer Reid was in love with the idea of love – obsessed with the idea of his soul intertwining with someone else’s. But with his thirtieth birthday quickly approaching and absolutely no prospective love interests in sight, Spencer was feeling more than a little disheartened. It certainly didn’t help that everywhere he turned, love was running rampant. Hotch had Beth, Penelope had Kevin, Jennifer had Will, and Morgan had… any number of possible partners. Emily and Rossi were both unattached, but happily so in a way that Spencer just couldn’t quite manage.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like seeing the people around him happy – it was just that he couldn’t help but wonder when he’d finally get his chance at love.

A month before Spencer’s thirtieth birthday, everything changes.

When a member of Garcia’s victims’ support group goes missing, it’s all hands on deck at the BAU. It’s not that they’d give any less than one hundred percent on any other given day, but as with any case that hits close to home, everyone on the team is in a frenzy trying to put the pieces together. The thing that makes this case different is the fact that people from other departments are quick to lend a hand. It comes as no surprise to Spencer – Penelope is a social butterfly by nature. She made it her business to know and befriend everyone in the building. Her sunny disposition is hard not to love, and her current distress had garnered the support of more than a few non-team members.

By the time the case wraps up, the bullpen is much busier and, much to Spencer’s chagrin, much louder than usual. The steady influx of people has Spencer’s head spinning and he can’t seem to focus on the papers sitting in front of him. What should take him thirty seconds to read has almost taken twenty minutes, and at this point the words on the paper are all running together. Spencer knows that it doesn’t help that he’s running on less than three hours of sleep, as evidenced by the frequency of his yawns. Worse even is the fact that his coffee cup is empty and no, he thinks, that simply will not do. With a sigh Spencer pushes away from his desk, bones creaking as he stands.

With his coffee cup in hand, Spencer shuffles to the breakroom. He goes through the motions of preparing his drink, lazily stirring in the mountain of sugar before turning to leave.

Spencer supposes that if it weren’t for the fact that he was horribly sleep deprived, he would’ve seen you walking down the hallway. But alas, Spencer’s alertness had been compromised by poor sleeping habits, and he isn’t aware of your presence until his body is colliding with yours and his hot coffee is dripping down the front of your blouse.

“Ouch,” you whimper, and Spencer is immediately overwhelmed with guilt.

“O-Oh my God, I am so sorry,” he splutters. Without waiting for a response, Spencer’s rushing into the break room and procuring a thick stack of napkins. The part of his brain that controls logical thinking is apparently overrun by the onset of his mortification, and in an act of absolutely panic, he begins to dab at the stains with one of the napkins.

“I-I wasn’t looking where I was going. I’m so so sorry,” Spencer stutters out, frantically attempting to blot the stain. “I’ll give you money for a new shirt. A-Actually, you should probably take this one off. The best way to treat scalds is to immediately get the person away from the heat source. You should also run some cold water over it.”

In his hurry to rectify his mistake, Spencer hadn’t managed to take a good look at you. When his eyes leave the stain in favor of looking at your face, he prepares himself to see anger there. What he doesn’t expect is for your face to be just as flushed as his, with eye brows raised in shock.

Spencer also doesn’t expect this to be the moment he’s been waiting on his entire life, but one look into your eyes tells him this is it - this is your person.

Stunned into a stupor, Spencer stills, eyes boring into your own. You’re even more beautiful than he’d dared to let himself imagine, but in all honesty that didn’t matter much. What matters is the fact that there’s a faint hint of smile lines etched into your skin, and your eyes are so inherently kind that Spencer has no doubt that you’re as gentle as you are alluring. Your benevolence is also evidenced by the fact that you hadn’t immediately begun to yell at him, and for that he is thankful.

Spencer’s revelation renders him unable to form any semblance of thought, and before he knows it almost a solid minute of him gaping at you passes. You begin to squirm uncomfortably under his gaze.

“I, uh, appreciate the help, and you seem like a nice enough guy, but your hand is on my boob and I kind of make it a point to not let strangers touch the goods. So, if you don’t mind,” you stammer, looking pointedly at his hand that is still pressing a napkin to your chest. Spencer recoils as if he’s the one that’s been scalded.

“I-I didn’t mean to, um, t-touch your -,” Spencer gulps, “- chest. I swear I was just trying to get the stain out. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he chokes out. Spencer had imagined the moment he’d come face to face with his person a million times, and none of his daydreams had accounted for the possibility of him giving her second degree burns and inadvertently copping a feel. His emotions fell somewhere between mortification and elation.

“Mm likely story,” you murmur, lips upturning into a smile that has Spencer feeling weak in the knees. Spencer practically swoons. “Do you make it a habit to ask strangers to take their tops off, or am I just special?”

Oh God, had I really suggested that? Spencer cringes and wonders what good an IQ as high as his was when it seemed to fail him at times like these. Speaking to women had never been a specialty of his, despite Derek’s coaching, and Spencer was floundering to come up with an acceptable response.

You are the most special woman in the world, probably. Nope – too creepy, and Spencer definitely doesn’t want to scare you off. Not when he’s been waiting the better part of thirty years to meet you.

I didn’t mean to insinuate that you should take off your shirt, but I also wouldn’t particularly mind if you did. Even worse – that would certainly earn him a stern talking to from HR.

Spencer decides to go for the honest approach.

“I-I’m not sure how to answer that.”

His honesty draws a laugh from you, and Spencer loves the sound so much that he decides then that he’ll never tell a lie again. You shake your head at him and reach for the napkins that he still has clutched in his hands.

“What’s your name?” you ask him as you continue his earlier efforts to sop up the coffee.

It’s probably the easiest question he’s ever been asked. That doesn’t stop him from making a fool out of himself, though.

“I’m Doctor Spencer R-Reid. Uh, I’m Spencer. Y-You don’t have to call me Doctor.”

Someone please put me out of my misery.

Your eyes meet his again and he can tell that you’re holding back a laugh.

“Okay, then, Spencer,” you say as you discard the napkins in a nearby trash bin. “I’m Y/N.” You punctuate your words with an outstretched hand, and before Spencer can think better of it, the usual spiel come tumbling out of his mouth.

“The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to kiss.”

Your lower your hand and cock your head to the side.

“Are you always this forward, Doctor Reid?” you tease him, eyes flashing amusedly.

“I-I didn’t mean that we should kiss,” Spencer interjects, cringing at the way his voice has suddenly raised in pitch. “N-Not that I wouldn’t kiss you! I-I’m sure that kissing you would be really n-nice. I just meant that… you know. Germs.”

Are you there, God? It’s me, Spencer. A hole opening up in the ground and swallowing me up would be great.

To Spencer’s delight, you don’t seem offended in the slightest.

“I cannot believe that they’ve been hiding you up here, Spencer Reid. I should’ve come to visit Penny years ago.”

Wait – what?

“You work here?”

You nod.

“I work on the floor below this one – sex crimes,” you explain.

“For how long?”

“Coming up on three years now.”

Three years. You’d been right under Spencer’s nose for three years and he hadn’t the slightest clue. You’d parked your car in the same parking garage and taken the same elevator as he! How many times had your paths nearly crossed in the last three years? If he’d been just a little bit earlier or a little bit later getting into work, might the two of you met earlier? The possibility of it was maddening.

“Oh, wow. I-I’ve never seen you,” Spencer mutters lamely. But miraculously, you don’t think he’s lame, if your response is any indication.

“Nor I you, Doc. It’s a shame, too. You’re a funny guy.”

Spencer Reid has been called a lot of things in his lifetime – funny was never one of them.

“Y-Yeah. I’m a real riot at parties,” he deadpans. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” you hum, and Spencer really hopes that you mean it. “Would you mind escorting me to Penelope’s office?”

Spencer nods, and the two of you fall in step together. Spencer’s wracking his brain again for something – anything- he could say to fill the silence. Thankfully, you don’t seem quite as inept at conversing as he, and you beat him to it.

“You look a little young yourself, Spencer. How long have you worked here?”

“Uh, I’ve actually worked here for almost eight years. I started when I was twenty-two.”

Your eyebrows raise in shock.

“Twenty-two, huh? That makes you – what? Thirty now? I wouldn’t put you a day past twenty-five,” you muse, and Spencer isn’t quite sure what to make of that. You must pick up on the conflicted look on his face, because you clarify. “That’s a good thing, Doc. I hope I look as good as you do when I’m thirty.”

Spencer has to remind himself how to breathe.

“I’m not thirty yet. Technically I have twenty-three more days. I could have a rapid decline in attractiveness by then.”

Spencer’s not usually one to try to be funny, but she seems to have a good sense of humor and he wants to impress you in any way he can.

“I guess I’ll have to swing back by in twenty-three days and find out.”

The two of you come to a stop in front of Penelope’s office and Spencer tries not to look as disappointed as he feels. He doesn’t want your meeting to come to an end – not when there’s so much about you that he wants to know. He wants to ask about your opinion on books and obscure foreign films and most importantly, Spencer wants to know what you think about him. Did meeting him affect you in the same way it did him? Did you secretly wish to make this moment last, too?

Spencer wants to say so much, but he can’t. He’s too awkward and too scared and too nervous to find the right words. So instead, he gives you a tight-lipped smile.

“I’m sorry about your blouse. Can I please give you the money to buy a new one? I feel like it’s the least I can do.”

“Absolutely not. It’s really not that big of a deal. Didn’t even really care for the shirt, if I’m being honest. Red really isn’t my color.”

Spencer wants to tell you how wrong you are – that he’s infinitely certain that you’d look irresistible in any color – but he doesn’t.

You reach for the door knob, and Spencer’s shoulders slump.

“It was nice meeting you, Spencer.”

And then you’re gone, and Spencer can’t help but think that he royally fucked up the most important introduction of his entire life.

When Spencer envisioned how his life would look at age thirty, he’d imagined it being a lot different than it is now. He’d hoped to use his intelligence for something great – finding a way to cure Alzheimer’s had been his main aspiration. Yet, here he was, thirty years old with nothing more than three PhDs to his name. He’d accomplished nothing of great significance, and the idea of having wasted his intelligence was eating away at him.

In short, Spencer Reid was in a bit of a funk.

It didn’t help that he hadn’t seen you since that fateful day in the bullpen. Spencer had contemplated paying you a visit, but the lingering embarrassment over his actions kept him from reaching out. He didn’t think he could handle how badly a rejection from you would hurt, so instead he sulked around the office and wallowed in his own self-deprecation.

Spencer’s birthday wasn’t something he tended to advertise. From a young age, he’d chosen to observe it silently. Usually, his mother would forget, and he never really had any friends to celebrate with, so the day was always rather unimportant to him. Perhaps he would order takeout and gorge himself on greasy food while he sat alone in his apartment. It had been good enough for him last year, and he supposed it would have to suffice this year as well.

He made it a point not to mention it to his coworkers, and the day passed by just as any other day. By the time five o clock rolled around, Spencer was waving a goodbye to his coworkers and heading out the door. As he waits for the elevator, he debates on whether to order Thai food or pizza for dinner.

Just as he settles on Thai, the elevator doors open.

“Oh, thank God, I was worried that you had left already!”

Before Spencer can get over the initial shock of seeing you, you’re stepping out of the elevator and into his space, an excited smile on your lips. And then you’re holding out your hand, and Spencer’s almost moved to tears when he sees you wielding a single chocolate cupcake.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d like chocolate or vanilla better, so I went with my gut. I get the feeling you’re a chocolate kind of guy,” you say, eyes shining as you look up at him. “So, was I right?”

“You brought this for me?” Spencer asks, voice barely above a whisper. He can’t fathom it – that you had spared him any thought past your initial meeting. Spencer had surely expected you to forget about him entirely. Either that, or you’d written him off as someone to be avoided.

You nod.

“Of course, I did. It’s your birthday. Everyone deserves something sweet on their birthday.” You pause, the smile dropping from your face. “It is your birthday, right? I didn’t miss it, did I?”

Spencer is slow to shake his head.

“N-No, you didn’t miss it. I’m just surprised you remembered.”

You chuckled softly.

“You’re very unforgettable, Doctor Reid,” you say, and Spencer’s heart flutters in his chest. “And you didn’t answer my question.” You gesture to the cupcake expectantly.

“Chocolate is my favorite,” Spencer breathes out, raising a shaky hand and taking it from her. “I… Thank you. You didn’t have to do this. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Are you kidding me? You’re turning thirty. That’s a very big deal, Doc.,” you argue, and Spencer gives you a tentative smile.

“If you say so.”

“I do,” you smirk, before hitting the button to open the elevator doors. “So, do you have any big plans to celebrate?”

The doors open and you and Spencer file into the elevator together– an event three years in the making.

“Not really. I was just going to order some food and stay in,” Spencer says before taking a bite of the cupcake. It tastes wonderful – better than a store-bought cupcake could ever be. This cupcake was undoubtably made from scratch, and the thought of you taking the time out of your day to bake something for him makes him feel weak at the knees. Pair that with the way you’re looking up at him and Spencer worries he might collapse.

“What kind of food?”

“Thai,” Spencer says around the mouthful of cake.

“Mm,” you hum. “You know – I happen to love Thai food. And I also happen to not have any plans for the evening.”

Even Spencer, who struggles to decipher the simplest of social cues, can deduce that you are insinuating that you want to spend the evening with him. He’s thankful, then, that he had already swallowed the bite of cupcake, because there’s no doubt in his mind that he’d have choked on it. Spencer gapes at you, but your gaze is unwavering and your body language gives no indication that you were joking.

“D-Do… Do you want to, uh, come over?” Spencer trips over his words more times than any grown man should, but in his defense, he isn’t exactly well versed in matters like this.

“Do you want me to come over?”

“Yes.” Spencer answers so quickly that it should be embarrassing, but it’s hard to feel anything but happy when you’re looking at him like that.

“Then in that case, I thought you’d never ask,” you sigh dramatically, and then the door opens up and you link your arm with his. “You know, I was beginning to think I’d never see you again. I’ve been driving Penelope crazy asking about you, Doc.”

“You’ve been asking about me?” Spencer asks, incredulous.

“Absolutely. It’s not every day that you meet a guy who has the audacity to feel you up and ask you to undress within the first five minutes. I just had to know more,” you tease, and Spencer can’t help but laugh. Despite the cold air of the parking garage, Spencer feels warm – warmer than he’s ever felt and he knows that it has everything to do with the way you’ve pressed yourself against his side.

“In that case, I’m very glad I spilled my coffee on you,” Spencer says and you let out a snort.

“Yeah, I could’ve done without that part. And the part where you called me germy.”

“I did not mean it like that,” Spencer insists. You hum and detach yourself from him, and Spencer instantly misses the contact.

“Because it’s your birthday, I’ll let you off the hook,” you announce, making your way to the other side of his car, all while never taking your eyes off him. “And if you’re lucky, birthday boy, I might just be willing to test that theory of yours.”

Spencer cocks his head to the side.

“Theory?”

You nod, and the smile that creeps across your face is the best birthday present he’s ever gotten.

“You said you thought kissing me would be nice. I think we should find out.”

Spencer Reid is, by most people’s definition, unlucky in love. But as he steals glances at you on the way to his apartment, his chest swells with a hope that maybe – just maybe – his luck is about to change.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer x y/n #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid self insert #fluff #fanfiction

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playlist-reid · 7 years

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Two Ghosts - Spencer Reid

hello everyone! this one is a little hurty and sad so beware and read at your own risk. gif is not mine but it also hurts me a lot

enjoy!

word count: 1,701

It was a feeling you had been unfamiliar with for a long time now. It was back, and stronger than ever. You felt empty. You felt like there was no hope to be happy any more, and you knew this wasn’t Spencer’s fault. You wanted more. You wanted marriage, a family, all of the “American Dream” components and Spencer wanted none of that. You had been together for four years now, and you adjusted to his job because you loved him with all you had, but it was not enough anymore.

The two of you used to be inseparable. You had a classic case of long time love, but it was only able to stretch so far, and it hurt you so very much to think of it like that. As crude and horrible as it sounded, it felt worse.

Spencer wasn’t the same person he was four years ago, and quite frankly, you weren’t either. He still loved you, and you still loved him, but you couldn’t want for him any longer. It was selfish and demanding of you, but you wanted a family, and had since you were a child, and you simply were not about to drop that because Spencer did not want that. He made it clear he did not want children in fear that the schizophrenic gene being passed to them, but he had no excuse for not wanting to marry you. He had a commitment issue that you were unable to solve, so it was time for you to move on.

Your bags were packed in your apartment with Spencer, and all that was left for you to take to your car was one last suitcase and your purse. You couldn’t just have him come home to an empty home, so you waited for him. You sat at the dining room table, breathing slowly and steadily. You could do this, right? You could walk away from it all?

Your heart told you no, but your head screamed yes. There were bigger and better things out there, and you just had to look for them, right?

You were unable to think about it any further as you heard the door unlock. You stood, and put your backpack on quickly as Spencer walked in. He was never as excited to see you as he used to be, and you could tell by the blank expression he held as he looked at you and your bags. “Where are you going?” He asked you as you walked towards the door.

“We want different things, Spencer. I want marriage, a family, a life. You want none of that and it feels like we are not who we used to be.” You told him as you bottom lip quivered mercilessly. “It is not working, Spencer. I am sorry.” You whispered and looked down before you walked to the door and opened it.

Spencer turned and watched you with an unfamiliar look on his face. “Do you not love me anymore?” He asked in the most uneven of voices.

You shook your head. “I love you now more than ever, Spencer. I need something in my life that you do not, and I think we need to seek what would be best for us.” You told him sadly as you walked out of the door. Spencer stared at you with nothing to say and nothing that was able to make him move. You sighed, hoping he’d say something, but he didn’t “I love you, I really do.” You murmured as you closed the door, breaking into sobs as soon as you heard it click.

He could hear your sobs, but not for very long, as soon, his own sobs drowned yours out as he sunk onto the couch, messily dialing Derek Morgan’s number.

~.~

Not long after you moved out, Spencer began staying with Derek Morgan whenever they didn’t have a case. The apartment you shared became an empty shell of what the two of you had, and Spencer wasn’t able to stay there any longer. Everything there reminded him of you, and you were all that he wanted anymore.

He sat in the car with his close friend, JJ, on a stakeout of the potential unsub. He stared off in the distance, unable to focus on anything at all. He was like this quite often now, and he couldn’t stop it anymore.

“It is rare that we actually do one of these silly stakeouts and actually get the unsub.” JJ huffed and crossed her arms over her chest.

Spencer sighed lightly. “What’s rare is finding someone who makes us happy.” He murmured and looked away, in his normal broken state.

“Have you called her?” JJ asked Spencer softly in the silent car. Spencer didn’t listen to music anymore either.

Spencer shook his head and glanced down to his hands in his lap. “She doesn’t want to hear from me.” He murmured helplessly and swallowed hard. He was trying to keep it together, but couldn’t.

JJ sighed and put a hand on Spencer’s leg. “You don’t know that, Spencer. When are you going to tell me what happened?” JJ asked him and tried as hard as she could to talk him down.

With no pride left, Spencer spilled what he had to say. “I wouldn’t marry her or start a family, because I didn’t want that.” He told JJ in confidentiality, which caused her heart to shatter.

She ached for both you and for Spencer. “Why wouldn’t you marry her, Spence?” She asked him tentatively, almost reluctant to hear the answer.

Spencer looked out of the window. “I thought she deserved someone better than me. I was too discouraged to propose.” Spencer admitted and leaned to the back of the car, bringing his go bag up. He unzipped one of the pockets and fished out a small, velvety black box. “I have had this for over two years now, but I couldn’t do it knowing there were people who could give her so much more.” He told JJ and handed her the small box.

JJ opened it and gasped quietly. It was beautiful and intricate, and so very much you. “Spencer, she loves you! You were her everything and the only thing that held this back was you, not her! She wanted you and only you. You need to call her, go see her, something. It isn’t too late.” JJ urged him and handed the box back to him. He shook his head and pushed it back to her.

“You can keep it. I have no use for it anymore.”

~.~

Two months later, neither you nor Spencer had reached out to one another. It was as if things broke off then and there. There was rarely a night that you didn’t cry yourself to sleep anymore, because your pillows didn’t smell like him anymore. You were staying in your sister’s home, in her guest room, with her family that you envied with all you had. Everything you had inside of you regretted what you did, and you wanted nothing more than to call him up, but there was no use. Judging by the fact that he made no effort to contact you gave you the impression that you were nothing to him anymore, and he moved on. If only you could.

You sat with your knees to your chest in your sister’s guest bed, shaking lightly at the cool breeze coming in your window. The family was out, and you were all alone in the big house they had. You were no longer used to being alone anymore. With Spencer’s job, you were alone quite often, but since you moved in with your sister, you were never alone. Either her, or her husband, or one of her three children were always home. Today, however, was different.

You were curled up in the bed, staring out the window into the yard, where the leaves were beginning to fall quickly this fall. You thought it was pretty, but you wished you were experiencing it with Spencer.

The doorbell ringing brought you back from your thoughts and you sighed as you scooted off the bed, walking to the foyer to the front door. You opened it, and your heart leaped into your throat. “Spencer,” you murmured, confused, hurt, and shocked all the same.

He stood there with his hair longer than ever and messier than ever, with his cardigan wrinkled and tucked into the side of his pants. He looked a mess, to say the least. “Penelope found where you had your mail forwarded to.” He said softly and put his hands in the pockets of his pants.

“What do you need?” You asked him as you tried hard to keep the tears in your eyes.

Spencer looked up at you, broken and hurt. “I need you,” he whispered and his face contorted into a sob as he stepped inside, taking you into his arms and holding you as tight as he could without hurting you. “I do not want to live another day without you in it. You are the person who keeps me going and you are everything to me. I need you, (Y/N)!” Spencer cried out and clung to you tightly.

You pulled away and ran your hands through your hair. “Spencer, we had this talk. We want different things.” You told him with all the stress you ever had.

“I want to marry you. I will do anything for you.” Spencer told you quickly.

You swallowed hard. “Do you mean that?” You asked hesitantly, watching him closely.

Spencer sniffled and nodded. “I wanted to marry you for so long, I just didn’t know how to propose and I was worried there was someone better for you.” Spencer told you. You were silent for a moment, watching Spencer. “I have a ring, just not with me. Will you marry me, (Y/N)?” Spencer asked.

Your eyes went wide as you remained silent. He was serious! “Of course, I will, Spencer.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer #reid #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal #minds #two ghosts #harry styles

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okimargarvez · 6 years

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HURT - 8

Prompt: Luke’s dark thought, destiny, contrasted love. Warnings: sexual content, dark thoughts. Characters: Penelope Garcia, Luke Alvez, BAU team, others. Pairing: Garvez. Multichapter (22).

GARVEZ STORIES

Chapter 1- Chapter 2- Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

HURT- Chapter 8

It's been a few weeks and there hasn’t been any kind of change between them. Neither positive nor negative. Neither of them confided the problem to another human being: Penelope discussed it with Sergio (Emily's cat) and Luke, although talked to Roxy, he didn’t open the matter with his therapist.

Gradually they began to prick, almost coming to the point of self-assurance that what had been there was all in their heads, not concrete, but the result of a fantasy too fervid and abstinence pushed to the extreme. The others didn’t, as usual, realize nothing. They were discussing the possibility that the team would add a new member, there were also Spencer and JJ. Rossi had been in Prentiss's office for at least two hours.

-You couldn’t find anything out, with all your super powers?- Luke asks, with an ironic teasing tone. Penelope isn’t far behind. She puffs, looks at him wrong, while the other two bystanders, hardly hide funny smiles.

-Oh, ha ha, newbie. It’s not like I haven’t tried. I checked with all the mes in other units, to see if any of their agent are transferring over. Nobody knows diddley-squat.- he can’t help but admire how the glasses perfectly match the necklace and the jacket (and other so little masculine thoughts cross his mind), even if he would rip the latter fly away, as well as the dark red shirt, with a rhombus...

- Well, I feel like Emily's been poring over these resumes forever.- JJ exclaims, distracting him from such thoughts, flying towards him -...I mean, the brass has to approve a new agent soon, right?- she then asks, apparently not aware of anything.

- All I know is, whoever he or she is, they'd better be nice. That is the most important thing to me.- she pronounces the sentence, looking directly at Luke.

- To all of us.- Spencer says, not catching the little arrow behind a phrase typically "Garcia". Penelope sighs.

- So whoever this well-qualified mystery person is, I say once they join, we change our name from The Magnificent 7 to The Awesome 8. Huh? It's perfect.- her enthusiasm isn’t shared by anyone, not even by him, who would do anything to make her smile, to see again that face enlighten and know to be partly responsible.

A chorus of -I do not know...- and similar resounds in the area. The blonde doesn’t lose heart.

-I’m declaring a dictatorship. You guys don’t get a vote. Especially you, newbie.- again that adjective that sends blood to his head. He would also immediately show her who is the newbie. The problem is that the only way that comes to his mind is always the same. And in addition to undoubtedly causing damage, not solving the question, etc., it is not even feasible, because she will not fall more easily in his arms, as it could be before he had say that horrible sentence...

-Sorry guys, no news. But we have a case...- Prentiss's appearance on the balcony, silencing the question for the moment.

-What?- she asks, then a message arrives, she looks at her phone and nods -Oh yeah, we do. This isn’t sgood.- then she walks toward the meeting room. Quickly followed by others. Also reappears Tara, who asks for information from their communication expert. Penelope begins to distribute the folders to each, noting with great disappointment that Luke has sat right in the place next to her (damned!); at the same time, she begins to explain the details of the case. -Okay, last night in Iakima, Washington – she feels his eyes on her, it's not just her impression. Why the hell is he still staring at her? In such a clear way, in front of others? But fortunately, they are all bent over the sheets, they are following her explanation. -police received multiple 911 phone calls from the same neighborhood.- nothing, he doesn’t want to give up. Is he doing it on purpose, to see if he can confuse her? She will not give him this satisfaction. -They all reported a woman...- he, who took the remote control and played with it a little, is now forced to pass it on to her. Their fingers touch for a time longer than necessary for the transition. And this time in the eyes of JJ doesn’t escape any subtext. It is obvious that there must be something more, between these two, it is no longer detesting someone who has taken the place of her best friend. But if Penelope doesn’t want to talk to her, she can’t force her to do it-… pounding on the door, screaming for help. She was hysterical. They received five calls in less than five minutes.- the screen shows the flashing red dots in the sighting areas.

-Let me guess. Not one person opened their door to help her.- Rossi considers. Penelope nods.

-Sad commentary on our times.- Spencer adds -But understandable: a stranger at your door cold be a ruse to get into your home to rob you.- JJ raises her eyes to this sentence.

-Or worse.- and she exchanges an eloquent look with Tara.

-All of the caller described the woman as been in her mid-20s and scantily clad. One even called her a prostitute.- when she listens to him she feels bad, she wants to be able to leave the room, not having to see him anymore. Because continue to come to her mind fragments of their "relationships", especially those in which she was exactly felt that way: an object, a thing, an automaton, worse, a slave who had to satisfy all his wishes. And the most tragic thing is that she almost liked it! -Said that a hooded figure grabbed her off the street, was driving a dark-colored car.- while it is clear that he has already forgotten everything, he speaks of the case in a detached, serious, focused.

-So we have an abduction.- Dr. Lewis takes the floor for the first time.

-It appears so, but that not the only reason they called us.- and in fact the situation is much worse than they might have initially seemed.

-Right, because when the local police were looking for the missing woman- Penelope is careful not to turn her head in his direction -they uncovered the remains of two female victims on the bank of a nearby creek. -here are the pictures of the victims, with the body practically mummified. -One was skeletonized. And the other was in a burlap sack. She has been dead for three weeks.- she can’t help thinking that this poor woman was still alive when she was having a good time and she thought she had found... the man with whom to spend her life. It's too much? Was she a total fool, for having hoped for us so much? Probably. But keep the doubt, the dilemma in eternity, more or less as she had done with Morgan, never going beyond that boundary that so many times would have wanted to cross... where it had got her? It is better to have regrets for something that has been done, but has gone wrong, or have them for something that has never been accomplished and will never know how it could have gone? Rhetorical question.

-She also had barbed wire wrapped around the waist.- Tara notices.

-She being Debra McDermott, 27, from Moxee. Washington.- Penelope explains.

-Run away from home at 16, multiple arrests for prostitution... Given the witnesses statements for the current missing woman... I’d says our unsub is got a type.- JJ wonders. Then what she is feared happens. Luke turns to her, to ask a question. He does it because it's his job, they have to catch those who have done such horrible things to these poor creatures. But could he not at least avoid looking at her that way? -Any idea on the skeleton?- the only way she has to defend herself is to shake her head keeping her eyes tightly closed. Sealed.

-No, not yet.- fortunately Spencer, without knowing it, runs to her rescue.

-But her date of death is estimated to be 3 years ago.- considers in fact the little genius.

-Three years and now three weeks. What are the odds he remained dormant between victims?- Rossi asks.

- We should look into recent local prison releases that match that timeframe.- Prentiss addresses directly to Penelope.

-I'll search that now.- and while she says it, she's already starting to type on her computer.

- He could have been sublimating his urges by reliving the kills.- Tara proposes.

- Maybe he found a job- Luke continues through attempts -or a relationship that satisfied him...- but it is not accidental that in saying this last part of the sentence, he glances at her. It's all in your head. He doesn’t feel anything. He said it was just sex. He didn’t even choose you. Except that Tara wasn’t his type and the others were busy. Give it a reason, hell! A month will have passed in a while, and you still think about it! I have to stop talking to myself.

-If either went sour, that could have triggered his killing again.- Reid continues.

- The only thing we know for certain is we have two dead victims and a missing woman who's still out there. Wheels up in 20.- saying this the chief dissolves the meeting. Luke is still a few moments to look at the pictures in his dossier, then gets up and follows the others outside the room. Leaving her alone again, to fix things. More or less as he had done before.

Let me be the first to welcome you.

How much hatred does he feel, to hear her say (in his head) this sentence again? And he could make fun of himself, not admitting that he noticed the way Penelope had staring the "new new guy", eyes that practically came out of her head, not even she hadn’t seen Morgan. But maybe that was it, he looked a little like him, now we don’t exaggerate, seen by a person without glasses who couldn’t see her hand in front of her face ... well, maybe the super special agent he soon replaced, and Stephen Walker would be could look similar. In any case, she had reserved a welcome that was very different from his. And when she shook her hand for the second time, to present herself officially, he hadn’t succeeded in holding back. He had complained to everyone about how she had treated him unjustly. And that he was tired of being called newbie. Now he wasn’t the new comer anymore. Did she couldn’t force herself to call him by his real name, as did the others?

But such a request would never have happened if they had found themselves. Because the others didn’t know what he had done to her. Otherwise neither JJ, nor certainly Spencer, would ever give him a rope. And Emily to protect her computer technician would surely be able to get him fired.

In the end it was closed with a proposal for an armistice, to celebrate in the usual O'Keef. But he had refused. He wouldn’t have been able to stare at her while other people, male beings, approached her to try to flirt with her, they took her hand, bring her to the dance floor, smiled at her and received smiles in return. They touched her and looked at her in ways that no one else besides him would ever allow himself to use.

He still feels that she is his, and in his utopia, she is as faithful as she is in this (almost) month of separation. But why would she do that? They had never even been officially together. They had only fucked. This what he had told her. Spectacular lie. At this moment, lying on his stomach on his bed, a hand immersed in Roxy's fur, aware that even this night he couldn’t sleep, he almost feels the lack of those ghosts that seem to have abandoned him. Even them.

#garvez #penelope garcia #luke alvez #criminal minds #cm #garcia x alvez #alvez x garcia #penelope x luke #luke x penelope

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