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anika-ann · 2 years

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Love on the Brain - part 3

Ch3: Turning Green

Type: MCU x Criminal Minds crossover series

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word Count: 7200

Summary: The cooperation between the Avengers and the BAU bears first pieces of fruit, your team noticing things you have missed. However, tensions start to rise.

Series masterlist

Warnings: series includes criminal behaviour such as stalking or kidnapping; graphic violence, gun violence; (mentions of) death; allusions to dub-con; possible PTSD and flashbacks; sexual innuendos and foul language. Loads of fluff and teasing. I’m covering my bases here to make sure - probably sounds worse than it is. If you’re interested in specific warnings for individual chapters, let me know.

A/N: divider by @firefly-graphics;

“Jealousy is the dragon in paradise; the hell of heaven; and the most bitter of the emotions because it is associated with the sweetest.” AR Orage

You shifted in your seat, looking around the room as to subtly avoid Emily’s eyes; a move she could no doubt see through, but didn’t call you out on.

When you reached one of the small lounge rooms Tony liked to use for less formal meetings – even if according to him, all work meetings should be either informal or taking place in a lab – Emily snatched you for a chat.

The reason for which had your eyes wander did not only lie in the fact you had never been here and were actually curious to take the room in – the more intimate setting, couches and armchairs in earthy tones and a fake fireplace –, but mostly stemmed from knowing this chat would have not so hidden ulterior motives.

You were sure Emily would love to catch up as much as you would; but things weren’t so simple. Even entering the room, both of you were well-aware that it would be Emily asking questions and you answering rather than vice versa and her questions would have a single goal: to get insight. And whether you liked it or not, you needed to give her exactly that so she could help you. So she and the rest of the team could help Steve.

This awareness didn’t help the awkward air; nor did the fact you still weren’t sure where you stood with each other after you had left without much warning or keeping in touch.

“Swell place Tony Stark has here,” Emily commented noncommittally, earning an equally disinterested hum from you; you still wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Never been here before either?”

Your shook your head. “Nope… I don’t spend much time here outside of work. The Initiative offers apartments not too far from here with reduced rent.”

“I see. Keeping work life and personal life somewhat separate. Smart.”

You scoffed humourlessly, eyes fixed on the forest green rug under the small conference table as your eyebrows jumped a bit.

“Yep. Works out well until it doesn’t.”

And wasn’t that right.

Except that the only thing to separate the two was the place you lived. Other than that, your friends, your neighbours, they all had ties to the Initiative; and you best friend was one of the Avengers, the Captain himself.

It wasn’t healthy; but neither was turning a blind eye to the feeling you for Steve in order to preserve your friendship.

“Jones… would you actually look at me so we could talk?” Emily asked gently, a hint of amusement in her voice.

It was so characteristic of her; kindness, no-nonsense attitude and humour. You missed her; she was like an older sister you never had, one that was willing to give everything and asked nothing but acceptance and respect in return.

You gulped and let your eyes stray to her face; her eyes shone as warmly and sincerely as her words, causing your mimic muscles to come to life and give her the tiniest of smiles.

“Sorry. Uhm. I don’t live here and I don’t hang out here that often. I’m not saying the Avengers aren’t my crowd at all, but… they’re mostly Steve’s friends and he only pushes a little to get me friendly with the band,” you explained further, earning a nod of understanding.

“You looked just fine with Romanoff, Stark and Barton if you ask me, but I hear you. Steve on the other hand… you seem really close.”

Heat flushed your cheeks, your heart stumbling in your chest at her observation. Were you so obvious in wanting to be even closer too?

“I don’t want to embarrass you, just… I can tell. You told him about us, but not to the others,” she observed quietly, non-judgemental and yet, you felt a pang of guilt.

Your time at the BAU wasn’t insignificant; in fact, it was a better part of your professional life so far and your personal as well, because one did not work at the BAU for years without forming deep attachments.

It was a shame not to talk about it your new friends… but you didn’t only carry attachments and happy memories with you. Every single one member of the team had demons following them around; it was one of the reasons why the bonds you had created ran so deep. It often hurt to reminiscent. Remembering could be terrifying and would push straight into an unpleasant place which was difficult to claw your way out of.

An undeniable truth was however, that when on the team, sooner or later, one learned to read the other; and Emily read you like a book. Naturally, it hadn’t escaped her notice that Steve knew that you had once been working with a genius mind of 187 points.

There was no denying it you told Steve bits and pieces, just like there was no denying that you had still shared shamefully little and even less with other people in your life.

“I didn’t say much… I—I don’t keep it a secret, I don’t keep you all a secret,” you whispered, attempting to explain. You weren’t even sure what. “And when I left, I didn’t mean to-- I just…”

“Hey,” she interjected, once again more understanding than you deserved. “It was a tough case. You left for a good reason and you seem happy. That’s what matters.”

You swallowed heavily, feeling tears prickle in your eyes. When you let yourself close them, all you saw was red; red and dark empty brown, stickly like the blood on your hands.

When you snapped your eyes open again, it was to Emily’s compassionate tight-lipped smile.

“You all stayed,” you argued weakly, blinking away your tears before they could spill over, before the nails threatening to gnaw at your gut could dig their way in.

Emily’s easy – but not dismissive – shrug was like an invisible force who pushed the figurative aggressive hands away.

“Each of deals with these things in our own way. There’s no shame in walking away when it is what you need.”

“Can’t help feeling differently about it,” you turned one corner of your lips up humourlessly, taking a calming breath as you confessed your sins. “It stings sometimes. And I… I should have stayed in contact more, so we didn’t have to meet in these circumstances.”

“You did what you needed to do at the time and that’s all any of us can do. We miss you, but… we understood,” she shook her head, a smile with a teasing edge lifting the corner of her lips. “And you evaded my question, miss. Tell me about you, about him. About you two.”

Right.

You had genuinely forgot that was what she was asking about before. You cleared your throat.

“Yeah, Steve and I are close,” you admitted, still feeling like your face was on fire upon saying it out loud.

What else was there to say about you two without sound like a love-sick fool?

Facts, Jones, remember to share facts, not your feelings.

“He, uhm, he saved my life, several times.”

See? Fact.

“I like him already,” Emily hummed, her little note putting you more at ease.

“He’s good at what he does. He’s a good leader, looking out for his team. But he’s not the kind of person who would expect something in return, you know? Just… if you treat him like a normal person, with normal human decency and respect, he’ll be grateful for that. I love that about him. He was so genuinely shocked when I brought him cookies after the first time he jumped in to save my life-”

“Ooh, you baked for him?” Emily interrupted again, grinning.

You chuckled, fighting the urge to hide your face in your palms when you remembered Steve’s flabbergasted face – or Captain Rogers’ at the time – when you offered him the Tupperware box, heart nervously hammering against your ribcage.

“It was kinda embarrassing really.”

“Nah. A way to man’s heart is through his stomach more often than not. I’m sure he appreciated it.”

“I guess he did, in the end,” you shrugged, lips spreading in a genuine smile. “We grew closer and closer after that, it helped that we’re neighbours.”

Your smile fell quickly when you realized that was the only reason why you knew about the photos; had he found it, he would have probably dismissed it.

You felt an icy shiver run up your spine at the mere thought.

You were aware you weren’t a very objective observer, but neither was he. You because of your former job; him because of his minimal sense of self-preservation.

“I… I know that me being so close clouds my judgement. My bad experience from the BAU stalking cases too, but… there are objectively things that are disturbing.”

“Not what I was asking, but tell me. Things like what? Besides the bullets, of course.”

What wasn’t disturbing about this whole thing?

“Like how didn’t he notice?” you questioned, no matter you sounded like a broken record even to yourself. “Yes, he’s famous, I get that. He learned to ignore everyone staring and sneakily taking photos, I guess, but… it’s just bugging me. No one should be able to sneak up on us. Especially not on him.”

Not on Mr.Supersoldier himself.

You internally sighed.

“Hm… It’s probably like you said. He’s used to it, tuning it out. Is he comfortable dealing with his fans?” Emily pried further, clearly not minding the change in topic too much.

Neither did you. Truth was, it was fun to observe Steve with fans; sometimes you were annoyed if they got too much, but he could get adorably flustered at the attention. And he was golden with kids; not that it made your belly flutter to see him squat to a five-year-old’s height, shake their hand and call them a special agent to have them show off their toothless smile.

Not at all.

“Depends. He always tries to be nice and he is, but I know him enough to see when he really puts a lot of effort to keep appearances and would rather to tell them to go to hell. He hates when they get handsy, flirt way too much,” you said, almost adding ‘and so do I’. “He loves dealing with kids though… his eyes light up when he sees they look up to him.”

“I’d pay to see that,” Emily hummed knowingly, clearly thinking about your reaction rather than Steve’s. Rude. “What is he like? In private, I mean. We know things about Captain America, but who is Steve Rogers?”

“He’s a little shit who’s too reckless and stubborn for his own good.”

The exasperated words were out of your mouth before you could think twice of them, eyes growing wide once you realized what you said – even if you spoke no lies. He was a little too reckless; and yet, here you were, too stupid to tell your heart off.

Emily burst into a surprised laughter, irises sparkling with mischief as you rushed to elaborate on your blunt response.

“Sorry! I just feel like he doesn’t take this seriously enough. And he is exactly that. He’s a good strategist, but sometimes he just throws away the plan. He can be reckless, though he’s not stupid by any means. He’s brilliant, of course. He knows how to roll with the punches, sometimes literal ones.”

Emily chuckled again, but nodded, signalling she was listening and you could go on.

“He’s really feeling the leader responsibility. Always stands by the ‘leave no man behind’, case on point – me,” you pointed at yourself unsubtly, sighing. “Sometimes that gets in the way of thinking about his own safety. He appears confident even when he’s doubting his abilities as a leader, feels the pressure – because he knows he has to be. There aren’t many people he would let see it affect him, who get to see him vulnerable, human… I’m not even sure how many times he’d let the other Avengers see that and they’re like his family… Uhm. Anyway, he’s surprisingly fun when he lets loose, when he doesn’t have to live up to the great golden boy persona.”

Echo of amusement was still present on Emily’s face as you trailed off, but her smile was nothing but warm at your ramble.

“He sounds pretty great. I’m glad you have each other.”

Yeah, so were you. Even if the implication of have could considerably differ depending on context; and of whom she would ask.

“How would he make enemies, besides the obvious?” Emily asked carefully, falling into a more serious mode again.

The heaviness didn’t escape you; or perhaps you couldn’t escape the heaviness behind the word ‘enemy’. Because despite what Tony Stark initially thought, the stalker certainly was an enemy force and they were a serious threat to man who didn’t deserve anything but love.

“He’s a likeable person. Maybe a bit too much.”

You would know; whether it be you or way too many others to your liking.

“He’s… he attracts people, romantically or not. And I think that rejection, no matter how gentle, or ignorance, could lead to antagonism. That’s one thing.”

“And other than that?”

“He’s really observant, so he can call out people directly on their shit and usually isn’t afraid to do so, so someone might be offended, take it too personally,” you mused. “The only times he hesitates is when his behaviour, no matter how right he feels it would be, affects others negatively. He isn’t afraid to challenge authorities, but if others should suffer from it, he’ll keep his mouth shut for as long as needed. Not a second longer. If he sees a bully, he just can’t help himself. He won’t get violent unless necessary, but he puts them in place. That was my second guess for an unsub – someone who feels humiliated by his intervention or someone who’s jealous of him.”

Emily nodded, mentally cataloguing all the information, no doubt forming conclusions in her mind, thinking of all the alternatives offered.

“Alright. Anyone with special interest in him that you can think of?”

Besides me?

And half of the Avengers Initiative and half of New York City? … That probably wouldn’t narrow it down.

You thought further – and instantly came out with a name, one that made your stomach and your jaw a little tight. Because yes, she certainly did take special interest In Steve.

Then again, it was only natural; with her more than with others.

“Sharon— Agent 13, I mean,” you quickly corrected yourself. “But she’s a Carter. Peggy Carter’s niece. Steve and Peggy were--- well, back in the forties, they were sweethearts. She’s well into her nineties now, but they go visit her together sometimes.”

“I see. What she’s like?”

“Pretty. Smart. Kinda badass,” you said simply, keeping your description court.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Sharon Carter – she was a wonderful agent, a very capable one, and she was friendly and respectful enough. Virtually, there was nothing wrong with her.

You just weren’t a fan of her affiliation with Steve; she had him practically wrapped around her finger at times, because she was a link to his past he naturally clung to. It was unfair, really – she had him and she didn’t even have to try.

God, you were a horrible selfish person when it came to him.

“She’s good at what she does, but she only revealed her name recently, operating under another one to avoid favouritism,” you added, which had Emily nodding and grimacing.

“Well, I can relate to that,” she remarked, a subtle jab on her mother – an important ambassador persona – whose name Hotch initially thought was Emily’s ticket to the BAU. “Anyone else?”

“Not that I can think of… problem is, women are fawning over him all the time. And I mean all the time. I don’t even think I’d be able to remember all their faces during a cognitive interview.”

“That many, huh,” Emily noted, raising a knowing eyebrow.

You smirked humourlessly in return.

“’fraid so…”

“Okay, anyone in particular you can remember who was acting strange in his surroundings? Fan, recruits, …anyone? Someone who could be angry with him or hold a grudge?”

You sighed. You couldn’t think of anyone straight away and Steve had been less than helpful when you asked him the same. You hoped Spence would have better luck with him.

“He mentioned Brandon Martins, one of the recruits, but he’s already on the board. I can’t think of anyone else right now,” you admitted, ashamed.

Perhaps you needed to pay more attention to your surroundings – to Steve’s surroundings – but he made it difficult to look at anything and anyone else when he was in the room. You had a problem, alright, you were aware. But your tunnel vision never had been so relevant.

And you had never been so useless.

“Take your time,” Emily prompted your gently, observant of how your nerves and frustration started worming their way through to your judgement again, your mind and heart growing frantic by the minute.

Time was what you didn’t have with cases like this.

“Right-“

“Hey, I know we’re on clock here, but he’s safe for now. He’s got the so-called Earth’s mightiest heroes having his back. And you.”

You tried to smile, grateful for her attempt, but failed spectacularly.

“And now you three, I know. I just… I just really hope that’s enough,” you whispered sullenly.

Emily smiled ruefully, but reached her hand over the table, softly squeezing yours. She didn’t speak, but you heard her words anyway – years of working together did that sometimes and the bond, no matter how rusty, was still present.

We all do. And we’ll do everything we can so it is.

Steve Rogers might not be a profiler nor an expert on human mind, but he knew all about complicated relationships; his relationship to you being an exemplary case.

Despite what many people considered him to be, ignoring obvious facts as him having been to war and fighting battles every day, he was also a man who knew of the world not being black and white. He knew all about shades of grey and blurred lines. He knew all about ambiguity.

But lord help him, the way he felt ever since he saw Dr. Spencer Reid enter the room, ever since he had witnessed the affection with which the genius circled his arms around you--- he was experiencing ambiguity on a whole new level.

Dr. Spencer Reid was without doubt a highly intelligent and a surprisingly empathetic man with hunger for knowledge and an insight as deep as humanly possible. He making links among clues that frankly had Steve’s head spinning while the doctor practically danced around the board with the marker in his hand, taking detailed notes and making the picture you had begun to paint somewhat organized and clearer.

Steve would be a fool to pretend Reid wasn’t an undeniable asset who could play a key role in solving the case, not to recognize his importance; he wasn’t an idiot.

He just hated with passion the importance the man seemed to have to you.

He despised the willingness and eagerness you had ran into the man’s arms; his stomach felt tight with panic and envy upon noting the warmth radiating off your very being when you hugged the lean genius.

He hated the fond smile on the man’s lips when he saw you too, the soft look in his eyes.

And he certainly wasn’t a fan of how the intruder and attention thief put Steve’s life under a microscope in the name of science and progress of the case.

Steve was already exhausted; a tension he couldn’t seem to get rid of build inside him fast, threatening to burst unless he found an outlet.

Perhaps it was worse now, because for once, Tony Stark wasn’t the source of this irritation.

The billionaire had removed himself from the room and helped Agent Hotchner by providing him information about the first women who were willing to come to the Tower for questioning. Meanwhile, Jarvis’ algorithm kept sorting through all the agents currently or previously employed by the Avengers Initiative.

Steve wished he could have an algorithm running on him too instead of being scrutinized by the kid who might have been around his age, but certainly didn’t have the looks of it.

“Do you get lunches together?” Reid’s voice snapped him from his dark thoughts.

“Huh?”

The other man just smiled briefly, voice unbearably curious and sickeningly nice as he repeated his question.

“You and Jones or you and Agent Romanoff. Do you go out to get lunch or coffee sometimes?”

Something spiteful in Steve smiled in victory even at that invasive question, something he only tried to supress half-heartedly.

Yes, we do. You don’t get to have lunches with Sparkles these days, do you? I do.

“Yeah sometimes. I don’t see how that’s important.”

But it was important.

Because Steve was getting lunches with you, he was friends with you. He was the one you snuggled to when you needed a hug after a hard mission, he was the one who got to protect you when an enemy made the mistake of wanting to jump you from behind. He earned the cutest and slightly ashamed thank you.

Steve had all that; Dr. Spencer Reid didn’t.

“How often? Did you get lunch or dinner or anything somewhere within the timeline we built?” Reid pried further, eyeing the board as if the answer was written there.

Steve fought the urge to huff; twenty thousand words a minute. As if—

Be civil, Steven. For Sparkles.

Plus, the sooner you deal with this, the sooner the BAU team will be gone.

For a moment, Steve felt terrible for wanting to cut your reunion with your friends short; but short visits were the best, right? And the team was mainly here to do their job, nothing more…. But damn, if you were happy to see them, you’d deserve Steve was happy for you too.

He did need to get a grip and be professional.

He looked at the board as well, pushing himself to remember all the times you had lunch with him in the timeframe they chose. He wasn’t surprised at the realization that there definitely were some – but it stunned him that timeline-wise, they were too close to his liking.

“We did, actually. The first woman was the same day.”

“Really?”

Emily Prentiss chose that moment to enter with you and Natasha on her heels. Steve’s head automatically turned to you, eyes seeking yours.

The moment his gaze found yours, he felt a strange calm wash over him; because despite the slight redness of your eyes, you appeared lighter than an hour ago, eyes bright and searching as you took in all the notes Reid had made. You seemed to feel better, which was a wonderful news on its own.

But more so, you were there, suddenly tangible again; and the jealousy turned bitter on Steve’s tongue, a reminder that his feelings and hostility were childish. You were no toy and Reid was no kid he was fighting with on a playground to get it. And despite what he wanted, you were yet to actually be his – if ever.

He truly did need to get a grip.

“How it’s going, guys?” you asked no one in particular.

“We completed the timeline...” Reid announced swiftly. “And I was just wondering about you. You and Agent Romanoff.”

“Natasha’s fine,” the redhead noted, pleasantly noncommittal in her offer.

“Natasha then… well, the thing is, neither of you are in a photo.”

Oh.

Steve’s gaze instinctively skimmed over the photos, but he recalled with clarity that Reid was in fact right. And now he felt like an idiot for not pointing it you himself; or realizing it.

It was obvious now that Reid brought attention to it; but even before, Steve rationally knew neither you nor Tasha were there.

Yet, no one had said so. Steve surely hadn’t and that was frustrating, truly; but judging by your small sound of surprise, you hadn’t noticed it either. It was a small comfort, but one nevertheless.

“Oh.”

Steve could tell you were a little mad at yourself for not paying attention to that, but it had nothing to the sudden surge of panic in his gut.

These women in the photos were in danger; these were women he had met with. You could be one of them. You could be in danger. The mere idea hit him like a truck, stunning him breathless.

Hopefully, the absence of your photo meant you were safe; but your safety as another woman Steve had been interacting with quite a lot was something Steve had failed to consider.

Because he had been acting like a selfish prick, secretly pleased by your worry for him; but luckily, it seemed the universe spared you, giving him a chance to redeem himself when sending Dr. Spencer Reid.

God, he hated that, but it was painfully obvious they needed the man.

“I hate to say this, but it is strange. This woman…” Steve said as he squinted at Reid’s chicken-scratch-like writing under the firs photo, “Janet. She approached me when we had lunch and you disappeared to the bathroom.”

“Ah, that’s right! I remember her now…”

“Then why isn’t there a picture of you?” Spence pointed out the obvious, effectively making Steve forget the strange expression of distaste which appeared on your face upon recognizing the other woman. “If it happened on the same day, in the same bistro, at the same hour? You should be there, but you’re not. Why?”

Steve’s stomach dropped to his feet as it occurred to him that not being in the photos might actually be worse than being in them. How was it that you were such a constant presence in his life these days and the stalker failed to capture it? Did they intend it? Were you in graver danger than the other women? Than him?

Why did you look intrigued by the questions while he felt his insides twist in dread?

Somehow, he could clearly hear words you’d say in answer, sarcastic and teasing: Sucks when it’s the other way around, doesn’t it? Karma is a bitch, GG.

“Right now, I’m leaning towards the idea of celebrity stalking in the terms of an obsession, probably a romantic one. But I’m not sure we can rule out other possibilities,” Reid continued, Steve’s eyes automatically snapping from you to him.

“Alright… well it begs to question what the not worthy means,” Prentiss pondered. “Does the phrase have any special meaning to you?”

Steve’s mind went straight to a private afterparty, Asgardian liquor and each team member trying to lift Mjolnir, Thor’s magical hammer, which was apparently only to be lifted by those who were worthy of wielding it.

“It doesn’t… besides Thor’s hammer, but that’s something only the six Avengers know of and I like to think it’s neither of us,” Natasha said, clearly thinking about the same night. “And neither I suppose that Odin came to Earth to snap photos of Steve with a bunch of women.”

“…right. So do we think it’s Captain Rogers or the women who’s not worthy of… whatever the unsub means?”

“Steve’s fine,” Steve noted absentmindedly, not minding one bit if Prentiss – or Emily – called him by his first name.

He caught your smile as he offered so, all of sudden not caring one bit if Reid called him the same despite the fact they had been using their last names until now.

He often found he minded very few things if it earned him a sweet curl of your lips.

“Thank you, Steve. I think we’re all good calling each other by name rather than titles.”

“Agreed,” you stated, clearly content – no, beaming – that your former and current colleagues got along well. Steve didn’t have the heart to tell you otherwise. “Well, I’m with Reid. I’m definitely leaning towards the women not being worthy of… well. That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? Something with Steve.”

“His attention? His time? His affection?” Emily guessed.

“Hm… someone not seeing any partner adequate for him could think so, true, definitely if they are stalker of the fourth kind,” Reid muttered, frowning as he turned to face you. “But that circles us back to you and Natasha.”

“If we’re not there, it could mean the unsub thinks we’re worthy for some reason… whatever their reason is,” you finished Reid’s thought, clearly understanding what the doctor was talking about, unlike Steve who felt utterly lost. The fourth kind of a stalker?

Bile burned on his tongue; the way you and Reid worked together as a well-oiled machine was just as useful as irritating.

Then again, the heavy weight in Steve’s stomach eased at your suggestion; that would mean that you were, in fact, not in danger. And whatever you were supposed to be worthy of, he would agree with the stalker.

Because you were worthy of everything.

“Could it be because we are agents? We’re… let’s say more equal?” Natasha suggested, voice uncharacteristically lacking self-confidence.

But there was no need; your eyes snapped at her, intrigued.

“Oh. You mean in the sense of the mentality people sometimes have with celebrities? People want an actor to date an actress…”

“… so given that Captain America is a superhero, maybe he needs a superhero girlfriend,” Natasha nodded, a small proud smile on her lips as you beckoned to Reid to write it down.

“Okay… that’s good. I like that theory, but it only fits Natasha. I’m not a superhero.”

“Yes, you are,” Steve argued swiftly, a knee-jerk reaction to you even suggesting you were less than an Avenger, never mind the ‘original six’ Fury had hand-picked.

You lowered your gaze self-consciously, breathing in and opening your mouth to protest – but you never got the chance.

“You’re certainly close enough,” Reid agreed absently as his gaze scanned the board. “Neither of the women we identified were law enforcement.”

“That’s a good theory. I mean, what are the alternatives?” Emily shrugged.

“It could be anything,” Spencer replied matter-of-factly. “We’re still trying to find a common denominator within these women and coming out empty. They are different race, age and social status, various jobs from a cleaning lady to a manager or a tattoo artist. For now, the only thing they have in common is that they interacted with Steve… and apparently, they might be less worthy than you because they’re not law enforcement. But that’s it.”

“It’s gonna be a long day and night,” you sighed, frowning as the board.

No one disproved you; but no one voiced their agreement either. It was a simple fact.

Still, Steve didn’t like the gloom returning to your face; running on instinct, his feet shuffled your direction to stand beside you, briefly squeezing you hand hanging limply by your side. While cold to touch, it was all warm in returning the gesture as you gave him a half-hearted smile.

Steve was well-aware of two pairs of eyes watching closely, but he cared little for them; the only reason he took a step back again was because Natasha spoke.

“How do you guys see the odds? How much would the unsub focus on the women – if all we have is one photo of each – and how much would they focus on Steve?”

Reid grimaced.

“It’s hard to tell before we figure out as precise motivation of the unsub as possible. But the fact is that something made them act – they sent the pictures. We’re still in the dark about too many variables. If we look at it from an entirely different perspective, it could be that Capt- Steve is not worthy of his title if he cannot protect them-“

A sudden rush of anger flared up in Steve – more at Reid questioning his abilities than at the suggestion alone, because yes, no one was perfect and it stung every time they failed – but you put the fire out before it could find its outlet.

“He’s not actually saying you’re not worthy of the title or that you’re not capable or that you’re not doing everything you can. He’s not questioning whether you’re doing good enough job-“ you rushed to explain, hand brushing to Steve’s hip as you felt him straighten his posture defensively behind you, causing Reid’s expression to change into a mask of confusion, then regret and then brief panic.

“Oh no, I’m not! I’m merely trying to explore all possibilities, all directions the unsub’s mind could be going. I did say I think that the romantic obsession is the most likely option, I just wanted to point out we need to make sure to get a good understanding and exploit all options. To interview all of the women and anyone you marked as a potential unsub through the criteria we talked about-” Reid babbled, momentarily sounding as if he was trying to talk twenty thousand words a minute.

Steve forced himself to bite the bullet and ease his stance as you shot him a tight apologetic smile over your shoulder – apologetic on a behalf of a friend. It was both sweet and bothersome, really. You were simply too good and trying so hard for all of them to get along it was no wonder you looked exhausted.

“Wow. I should have brought a knife to cut the tension in here,” Tony snarked as he and Hotch re-entered the room, earning himself two eyerolls from you and Natasha, while Steve just sighed.

Emily cleared her throat, seemingly amused by the whole situation; it was clear as day that quirkiness of certain team members – be it the Avengers or the BAU – and small conflicts or misunderstandings caused by it were something the teams had in common.

“We also need to find significance of the first woman. Or of an event that occurred before you met her to trigger taking and sending the photos. Is there anything important before this day that you can remember?”

Steve didn’t think too hard, to be frank. There wasn’t much happening that could be relevant to the case, no matter that the previous events weighted his mind.

“Nothing out of ordinary… we were on a three-day mission,” he said. “As in me, Clint, Natasha and Bruce as medical.”

“That one was dark,” you muttered as if you could touch the shadows in Steve’s mind; and in a way, you had.

You had touched them and tried your best to chase them away, working to bring a smile to his face again, gently and without pressure; but you fought mercilessly the long bony clutches of guilt and nihilism which always attempted to pull him under after a mission like that.

It was one of the things he adored about you and was eternally grateful for. One of the things he loved and would kiss you for, even if all he said was a heartfelt thank you.

“How so?” Emily queried, turning to you.

It was Natasha who answered. “Human trafficking. Never easy.”

“Yeah… you took me out for movies to lift my spirits after,” Steve reminded you fondly, earning a grin – because you needed no reminder, apparently.

“That I did and it worked. That’s the power of Pixar to you—oh,” you stopped abruptly, head snapping to your former team members, baffling everyone in the room, Steve included. “Oh. It was one of the busybodies again. They snapped a pic of us sharing fries at McDonalds after that.”

Oh indeed. That. Steve didn’t care much for these; except maybe it made him preen whenever the journalist misjudged the situation at hand in his favour.

But given the nature of contact the unsub tried to initiate, he supposed it could be relevant.

“…is that a euphemism for something?” Emily questioned, effectively turning Steve’s face red in a second.

“What? No!”

You just snorted, the sound somewhat adorable and he clung to it, because while unsure how this particular euphemism would work, he could imagine what it could be a euphemism for.

“It’s just that chivalry isn’t dead. He’s perfectly willing to share his fries with me unlike some people,” you said, gracing Reid with a very telling look.

The doctor just smirked, an amused – and unfairly affectionate – spark in his eye as he lifted his hands, palms up.

“Hey, if you want fries, just order your own, Bean.”

And just like that, all pleasant images were gone from Steve’s mind, warmth replaced by a pang of sharp jealousy that dug deep.

Because Steve understood the nickname. Yes, you it could have been that the doctor chose this nickname because you were shorter than him; but it wasn’t. You were a person living on sugar of various kind and jelly beans were by far your favourite. The fact that this... stranger, Spence, not even Spencer or Reid, your former colleague, your friend, your—something, a person you profoundly cared for knew that detail about you irked Steve immensely.

This was for him to know.

Damned be getting a grip and being professional.

“Okay, so they snapped a photo and posted it?” Hotch pressed.

“Worse. They sold it to tabloids,” you sighed, eyeing Steve with a small mischievous smile as you continued, almost melting his greening heart. “It’s ridiculous really. As much as I appreciate Steve sharing his fries with me-“

“Still sounds like a euphemism,” Tony snickered, which gained him a sharp glare from Steve, because suddenly it wasn’t even remotely funny; because your smile now felt as if mocking Steve for something he could never have.

“-they made it into the ultimate romantic gesture,” you finished. “Yes, there was a bit of a rustle on social media, but it wasn’t anything we’re not used to.”

Reid hummed, thoughtful, writing a note on the board in front of the timeline they had built earlier. Your steps were quiet as you walked to his side – Steve’s fingers twitching with need to grasp at your hoodie and keep you exactly where you had stood with him – and took the marker from Reid, fingertips brushing, earning a soft smile as you supplied the date.

Steve was beginning to see red.

Damn the ‘Bean’. Who did the guy thought he was?

“Do you really think it’s important?” Steve questioned, a little bite to his tone. You casted him a sideway glance – a tiny wrinkle between your brows, because you noticed his ire.

Good. Or was it?

“It’s probably not as significant to you, but combined with whatever was happening in the unsub’s life, it could have a meaning,” Agent Hotchner supplied helpfully. “How often do you leave for mission this long or longer?”

“It’s not uncommon. Two, three times a month. Some are for a week, rarely longer, but most of them are done within a day or two.”

“Hm…”

“You think it could be that the unsub was, uhm… missing him?” you suggested, searching gaze drifting to Steve from Hotch as you were trying to decipher Steve’s suddenly sharper voice.

Okay, not good. Being in your disgrace was the last thing he wanted or needed right now.

“That’s what I’m thinking, yes. And the first thing they saw was him with a woman, again.”

“So they got a little green,” Natasha hummed, gracing Steve with a sideway glance, eyebrow inconspicuously raised.

Steve stared stubbornly ahead, avoiding her jab. Damn her observation skills.

“That would be my thought, yes.”

“Huh, I don’t even… I would have never thought of that on my own,” you whispered, causing Steve’s heart to stumble in his chest – it startled him to think you already saw through his antics. But your eyes were firmly set on the board until they skimmed over the BAU agents. “I’m really glad you guys are here to help.”

“We’re glad to help,” Reid assured you oh so helpfully, winning another of your smiles; and a look that lingered a bit too long and was a lot warmer than Steve would like. “We miss you in the team.”

Yeah, Steve could fucking bet the quirky doc with a boyband haircut missed you. Good grief-

“Stark, where are you with aligning the timeline with the street cameras?” Steve bit out, flashing the billionaire a glare, minutely startling him.

“Getting closer, Cap. I might be onto something.”

“Well, work faster-”

“Me and J are trying, okay?” Tony protested, pouting, only feeding Steve’s irritation because Christ, he knew that, and it still did nothing to ease the feeling of wanting to punch something, to squeeze something so hard it would break. “Frankly I still have no damn clue how the unsub got their hands on the bullets and it pisses me off.”

Welcome to the fucking club.

“How high of a clearance would they have to obtain to access this particular warehouse?” Reid asked, and for a brief moment Steve actually had to close his eyes at the sound of his voice, nostrils flaring.

Peripherally, he saw you move away from the board; but he kept eyes on the billionaire because if he looked at you, he would--- he wasn’t sure what he’d do. Maybe pressed you against the desk, grabbed your lower back for support so he could bend you over as he kissed the living daylights out of you right in front of everyone, so they could see that not one person in this room besides him had the smallest claim on you-

“The highest, or second highest to even enter. I’m looking into this and it makes no damn sense, because neither of the people whose IDs I’ve seen stayed in the warehouse for longer than a few minutes. They had to know what they were looking for.”

“And that it exists in the first place,” Reid added, making Tony grimace.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t suppose you’ve talked to a lot of people about this… project,” Steve uttered.

“No, I really wasn’t. Your bae here might have called me an idiot, but I’m not completely daft.”

Steve wasn’t familiar with all of todays slang, but he knew you were not in fact, his bae. It only pissed him off further.

“I know you’re not,” Steve assured the man despite not being so certain anymore, feigning calm. Meanwhile you shamelessly murmured: “Jury’s out.”

Alright, that did have the corners of his lips twitch up.

As did the fact you seemed to materialize close by his side out of clear air, enveloping his senses; your perfume, your voice, your light touch on the back of his hand, your reassuring shy smile that tugged at his heartstrings.

“Hey. We’ll figure this out. Why don’t we let them work for a bit? We could spar a little? I think we could both use working out some nervous energy,” you offered, way more kindly than Steve deserved, he realized.

“Ew, guys, come on!”

“What?” Steve snapped at Tony heatedly, because did he really have to-

“Virgin ears here!” the jerk complained, causing Steve to clench his hands into fists.

He was gonna punch him at last. No, strangle him, maybe the thing he needed to squeeze was Tony’s neck-

You and Natasha snorted simultaneously and you pulled at Steve’s wrist, not minding the tension in his tendons.

“Barely. And you know, some of us actually meant sparring, no ulterior motives. We’ll be back in about an hour, if that’s okay? And we could order a late lunch after?” you asked, wordlessly checking with others. “‘kay. Thank you, really.”

With that, Steve let you lead him away from the room – and wouldn’t he let you lead him anywhere, to hell itself with your fingers wrapped around his wrist and his heart at once?

The automatic doors slid shut behind you, shielding you from the voices from inside.

“Right. Like these two ever didn’t have ulterior motives…” Tony muttered under his breath once you two were gone.

Natasha only hummed in agreement.

“Amen.

Now, what were you saying about being onto something?”

→ Next part

Series masterlist // Steve Rogers masterlist // Misc masterlist

Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt, is it?

This one was a long beast, but hopefully you enjoyed a little insight into Steve’s possessive mind 😊 I’m gonna leave you to ponder whether there was something more between Jones and Reid or whether Steve is just seeing things 🤭

Thank you for your support 💕

EDIT: I am, once again, kindly asking you to tag possible spoilers when you share your wonderful theories in reblogs or to just write a simple POSSIBLE SPOILER before theorizing in the comments 💗 Thank you 🥰

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