#i mean not this one in particular since JJ was busy being kidnapped

[snarkylinda]

Day 12229 of me begging for someone on that godforsaken building to accept his invitations.

[babymetaldoll]

DIWK - Chapter nine: “Fuck it, I love you”

Word count: 8,2K

Summary:  (Y/N) is struggling with her feelings for Spencer, and being just her friend might be harder than she thought. Spencer feels everybody but (Y/N) knows he is in love with her, and for a second, he is sure he will lose her.

Warnings: Cursing, angst frustration, mention of S03E09 (Penelope), usual Criminal Minds content.

A/N:  Hello my dearest friends! hope you are having a great week, and I hope you enjoy this chapter. All feedback is welcome!

Masterlist

Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four | Chapter five | Chapter six | Chapter seven | Chapter eight | Chapter nine | Chapter ten | Chapter eleven | Chapter twelve | Chapter thirteen | Chapter fourteen | Chapter fifteen |

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(Y/N)'s point of view

Since Rossi joined the team, we were as busy as we had been in a long time. We didn't have much free time, and most of the cases took us out of Virginia. But, it was our job, and we all liked it, which is why none of us complained much. No one but JJ, who still tried to keep her relationship with Will a secret.

On the bright side, all that traveling and working with the team got us even closer. Having Rossi there gave us a boost to be better at what we did and be even better friends. We had to spend a lot of time together, and by the look in David's eyes, you could tell he was surprised by how good we all got along. At least most of the time.

We were in Florida trying to find an unsub who kidnapped and mutilated women when it happened. After knowing them for over two years, Garcia and Morgan had a fight. A real fight.

- "Hey, how is it going with Father Marks? Any of the volunteers jumped out at him?"- I asked Morgan when I found him at the station after a long day trying to find a lead that might take us to the unsub or the victims.

- "Not yet"- my cellphone rang that second, and Garcia's voice at the other side of the line gave me more info on the case.

- "I'm still running the particulars of our homicides though vicap. Nothing so far."- she announced.

- "Ok. I just sent you the volunteer search list"- I walked from Morgan and sipped my coffee, feeling there was something off.

- "Ok. And I'm cross-checking the names against mental institution records."

- "Pay attention to individuals who were involuntarily committed in Florida. Rossi is convinced our unsub is the type that likes to stick close to home."

- "Got it. Talk to you later."

- "Wait, PG. You usually call Morgan about these kinds of things. Is everything ok?"- I whispered though I knew Morgan was paying a lot of attention to what I was talking about on the phone with Garcia.

- "God, I hate profilers"- she groaned at the other side of the line.

- "Come on, tell me."

- "Fine. I met this guy in the coffee shop I go to every day. His computer crashed, and I helped him fix it. He flirted, I flirted, and he asked for my number, and somehow I gave it to him 'cos he was incredibly hot and nice, and did I mention he was smoking hot? I didn't think he was going to call, but he did, which was surprising 'cos these things do not happen to me, sweet cheeks, never! But it did! And when I told Derek, he just told me I have to blow him off 'cos it's too weird."

- "What!?"- Penelope spoke so fast she didn't even breathe.

- "Yes! Just because he wouldn't hit on me doesn't mean another hot guy wouldn't! And he made me feel like I don't deserve anyone's attention."

- "I'm gonna kill him,"- I whispered and turned around. Derek wide opened his eyes and shrugged, not getting what was going on.

- "Don't. I'll take care of him when you guys come home."

- "Well, take care in the mid-time, and I'm here if you need to talk."

I hung down and sighed. Morgan looked at me, knowing I knew what happened between the two of them.

- "So?"

- "You fucked it up,"- I whispered and smacked his shoulder.

- "Is she furious?"

- "She's hurt. That's actually worse."- Derek sighed and shook his head.

- "What do I do?"

- "You mean, other than to apologize?"- I walked with him to get Hotch and tell him what Garcia had just informed us- "Think big, 'cos you really fucked it up."

- "What does Reid do when he fucks things up with you?"- Morgan asked, and I could sense the innuendo hidden in his words.

- "He doesn't do a thing, 'cos he never fucks up"- I answered with a pleased smile and turned to Hotch. It was time to catch a killer, not time to argue with Derek.

I always thought Morgan and Garcia were the greatest friends I had ever met. I could envy their relationship, especially 'cos they could be so flirtatious and so adorable, and at the same time, you knew their friendship was sacred.

I envied that. I don't think Penelope felt for Derek the way I felt about Spencer. That's why I was sure I had fucked it up. I didn't have to catch those kinds of feelings for my best friend, and I felt I had to find a way to get rid of them. I had to stop having a crush on Reid.

Those weeks had been challenging and yet amazing. It was awful knowing I had a crush on my best friend, but I was really enjoying all the time we were spending together. We had been sharing rooms for the last two cases, and that meant endless sleepovers with Spencer. After a long day, we would meet in our room and just share candies, ice cream, pizza, movies, whatever we needed to decompress.

If things had been too hard, I would lay with him on his bed and just cuddle for a while before going back to my bed. More than once, I fell asleep with him, feeling his fingers playing with my hair as he read. I always apologized the following day, but Spencer kept saying he didn't bother, that he had slept well and that I could always count on him whenever I felt bad.

Knowing I had never done that with Mikey or Frank more than a handful of times in all the years we had met each other made me feel like the shit. Sure, I could sleep in the same bed with them, but not the way I did with Spencer. This felt intimate. Serious. Real. Waking up in Spencer's arms was the best way to start my day, and each time it happened, it made me feel worst and worst 'cos I didn't want to ruin the best friendship I ever had over a silly, stupid, meaningless crush.

Each time it happened, I promised myself it would be the last one. And each time I did, I ended up falling into his arms again. It never meant anything sexual. It was just sharing a bed, cuddling. Holding each other. It was all the intimacy I always refused to share with other people. And I guess that's what freaked me out the most: how vulnerable I was with Reid and how much I enjoyed it for the very first time. Ever.

- "Hey,"- I heard Spencer whisper when we landed. I was curled up on his chest on the couch on the plane, as usual after a long case. I scratched my eyes, probably messing with my makeup, and smiled at him.

- "Sorry... you must have been awfully uncomfortable."

- "Not really. Besides, you looked like you needed a good nap,"- I chuckled and shook my head, sitting down correctly.

- "Next time I drool on your jacket, please wake me up,"- I collected all my things and took a look around- "What time is it?"

- "Almost midnight,"- he announced and stared at me as he held his go bag and put on his jacket- "Do you want to grab something to eat before you go home?"- and I nodded, thinking that was exactly what I had in mind.

But life had other plans, and this time it had nothing to do with us. We were about to get out of my car to catch a late dinner when I got a call from Hotch telling me Penelope was in the local hospital. Spencer's cell phone rang at the same time, and JJ announced the same. We looked at each other for a moment, scared of the worst, and all we managed to do was to get buckled up and drive to the hospital. We both needed to know Penelope would be ok, but all we knew was that she had been shot, and the doctors were doing all they could to save her life.

As soon as we reached the waiting area, we met Aaron and JJ. They looked as worried as we were.

- "She's in surgery,"- JJ announced, and I hugged her immediately- "There's no word."

- "This is crazy,"- Spencer whispered as I felt JJ's arms tighten around me.

- "I can't believe it! I talked to her before we took off."- I murmured and closed my eyes.

- "What do we know?"- Rossi asked, walking over in a hurry with Prentiss.

- "Police think it's a botched robbery,"- Aaron explained.

- "Where's Morgan?"- Emily asked, looking around the hall.

- "He's not answering his cell,"- JJ replied, and Spencer took his phone right away.

- "I'll call him again."

I looked at him as he walked away and turned to my friends. Emily and JJ were doing their best to stay strong, but it was clear they were fighting the tears back, just as badly as I was doing.

Spencer walked back and shook his head. He couldn't reach Morgan. I walked to him and rested my head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around me, holding me close to him. It was unreal. I felt I was in a nightmare, and I couldn't wake up, no matter how much I tried.

- "They can't give me an update,"- JJ walked over to us after half an hour. She had been trying to get more info about Penelope's condition, but nothing.

- "Morgan's phone just keeps going straight to voicemail,"- Spencer added, and Prentiss's angry voice nearly made me jump.

- "Where the hell is he?!"

Nearly two hours later, Spencer finally contacted Derek, and in less than half an hour, he rushed into the hospital and found us still waiting for news about Penelope. He ran over, shocked and confused, and looked at us, waiting for an explanation.

- "She's been in surgery a couple of hours."- JJ whispered as soon as he stood by our side.

- "I was at church. My phone was off,"- he explained and mostly tried to excuse himself for not being there earlier.

- "There is nothing you could have been doing here,"- Reid whispered, trying to make him feel better. Spoiler: it didn't work. Morgan was getting more and more hyperventilated with every second he spent in that hospital.

- "The police got any leads?"

- "I spoke to the lead detective. He doesn't think we'll get anything from the scene."

Hotch spoke in the calmest voice he had. Morgan was about to say something but bit his tongue. Instead of yelling, he walked around the hall for a few minutes until a doctor approached us.

- "Penelope Garcia?"- and we all nearly yelled "Yes" as a desperate reply.

- "The bullet went into her chest and ricocheted into her abdomen. She lost a lot of blood. It was touch-and-go for a while, but we were able to repair the injuries."

- "So what are you saying?"- JJ questioned as we all held our breath.

- "One centimeter over, and it would have torn right through her heart. Instead, she could actually walk out of here in a couple of days. And I'd say that's a minor miracle."

The way we all sighed, relieved at those words, was priceless and unbeatable. The doctor smiled at us and added.

- "She needs her rest. You can see her in the morning."

- "Thank you,"- I smiled at him, and he was gone. I turned around and looked at Reid. He cut me a short smile as Hotch's voice caught our attention.

- "David and I will go to the scene. I think the rest of you should be here when she wakes up. I don't care about protocol. I don't care whether we're working this officially or not. We don't touch any new cases until we find out who did this."

We all nodded right away. No one had other plans. And after those words, Hotch and Rossi were out of the hospital, and we were left waiting for Penelope to come back from surgery.

- "How are you?"- Reid whispered and handed me a new cup of coffee.

- "Scared. You?"

- "Me too"

- "Who could ever want to hurt Penny? She is adorable,"- I murmured and shook my head.

- "We are gonna find whoever did this"- Spencer held my hand and cut me the warmest smile. I nodded and looked at Derek, who stood up from his chair for the hundredth time and walked to Penelope's room to see if she was ok.

- "In case we ever fight, I want you to know I will always forgive you,"- I murmured in Spencer's ear and rested my head on his shoulder.

- "Should I be worried?"- he asked me, and I just shook my head.

- "I just wanted you to know that you will always be my best friend, Spencer Walter Reid. No matter what happens between us."

And I meant every word back then. I had no idea what was coming ahead and how much things would change within a few months.

Spencer's point of view

The attack against Penelope hit us all hard. She had been shot by the same man who had invited her out for dinner. The one she and Derek had had a fight about.

Of course, Morgan was the one who was more affected by the whole situation. I tried to comfort him, and he nearly killed me. I knew Derek didn't mean to be mean. He was just losing it and feeling overwhelmingly guilty about everything going on. He was in hell, and you could tell. I didn't want to think what it would be like to be in his place. If anything ever happened to (Y/N) and I wasn't there to help her, I would go crazy. So I understood how Derek felt and did my best to be supportive.

Those days also made it pretty evident Rossi was still shocked we were such close friends and team members at the same time. I know he was friends with Gideon, but the fact our friendship surprised him so much made me wonder how close they really were.

It didn't get better when we were all asked to stop working on the case after Hotch found an encrypted file in Garcia's system, and she ended up suspended. That's who we found out how the FBI had recruited her.

Morgan and I were at the hospital with Penelope when Hotch gave her the news and heard the story of her hackers days. Something that I bet she didn't really want us to know about her.

- "After my parents died, I... kind of went off the rails for a while. I dropped out of Cal Tech. I lived underground, basically. But I kept teaching myself code. It was like the one thing that kept me together. In the way, the bureau decided to keep an eye on me, I guess... Did you know they keep track of hackers?"

Neither Morgan nor I opened our mouths. We couldn't, 'cos we were processing the whole information.

- "They do, of the ones who have the skill to be either extremely useful or a potential menace."

- "So they offered you a job?"- I asked her, and she simply nodded- "Like Frank Abagnale. The bureau figured if you can't beat 'em, hire 'em."

- "Yeah. Something like that."

- "Garcia, what's on the encrypted file?"- Derek crossed his arms on his chest and stared at her, waiting to hear nothing but the truth.

- "I'm required to keep a record of everything the team does. And after my system got hacked and Elle got shot, I just didn't want anyone else to be able to get at you."

- "We'll talk to the doctor, see if he'll clear you to leave,"- I whispered and left the room, just in time to get JJ's call to announce we were officially off the case. It wasn't good, and it wasn't getting any better at all.

In a way, the fact we were all such good friends wasn't as beneficial to the case as it could be. It all came clear later that night. Penelope was attacked again, this time in her own house. Unfortunately, a cop was killed in the process, and if it weren't for Morgan, who insisted on crashing her couch that night, Penelope would have been dead too.

We were all at her house at three in the morning. We wanted to take her to the BAU and keep her safe, though we all knew it would be hard to explain to the authorities, all things considered. We were all just talking about what had just happened when Garcia started remembering more details about her date with her attacker, and we decided to ask more questions about it in case she could give us more info that might lead us to him.

- "Tell us about the car,"- I told her and sat in front of her.

- "Why?"

- "Just go with him"- Morgan smiled at her and nodded, trying to reassure her everything was ok. It wasn't, not even close.

- "You said it was white, 4-door, American. What else?"- I asked Penelope, but she shook her head, confused.

- "That's it. It was just a car."

- "No, come on, think. Anything. Go back."- Morgan held her hand. We could tell she was trying her best to cooperate, and he was making his best effort to be sweet and calm, considering he was losing it to catch the asshole who hurt her.

- "The seat belt was buckled behind his back. Why does that matter?"- and that was progress.

- "It wasn't a rental. It was for surveillance,"- Derek explained to her.

- "Agents don't wear seat belts. They need to get out in a hurry"- (Y/N) added and was about to add something else when Rossi walked across the room and sat in front of Penelope.

- "All right, let's cut the crap. You need to be straight with us. Right now!"- she wide opened her eyes in shock and turned to Morgan- "Look at me, not them!"- Rossi commanded.

- "I'm not hiding anything,"- Garcia whispered, astonished.

- "You got shot. Most people get shot for a reason,"- she tried to look at Derek again- "Eyes here!"

- "Ease up, Rossi!"- Morgan shouted when David raised his voice, scaring everybody in that room.

- "You got a roomful of people here willing to believe that an FBI agent has tried to kill you. We need to know everything you do on company time that we don't know about!"

Rossi yelled on her face, pushing her to tell the truth, and Garcia nearly started crying.

- "What?"

- "Come on, man!"- I guess we were all waiting for Derek to lose it and punch him.

- "It's nothing bad!"- Penelope yelled, and every eye in the room turned to her.

- "Spit it out!"- David pushed her again.

- "It's... I counsel victims' families, and they know where I work, so sometimes they ask me to look into cases for them."

- "What does that mean?"- Rossi frowned and kept his eyes on hers.

- "It just means that the cases, the unsolved ones, I tag them, so whoever's investigating them knows that the FBI considers them a priority."

- "You're not authorized to do that"- Hotch's voice was as severe as kind, which surprised us all. Rossi the most, I guess, 'cos he stood up and turned around.

- "I know. I was just trying to help."- Garcia whispered, fighting the tears back.

- "But whoever's working those cases thinks you're watching them,"- (Y/N) said in a softer voice, probably to explain to Garcia how the whole situation had ended up with her being shot.

- "I just wanted to put pressure on them so that they don't slide,"- Penelope excused herself.

- "How many cases are we talking about?"- Hotch asked.

- "I don't know. 7, 8 maybe. I need to get into my system."

- "You can't. You're suspended,"- Hotch reminded her, though it sounded more like "you are grounded."

- "Wait a minute,"- Morgan interrupted the conversation- "Garcia, on your date, you said this guy was pressing you to find out if you were working murder cases. Hotch, we gotta look at those files."

Hotch looked at David, who was still as pissed as earlier. I don't think neither of us had ever seen him acting like it.

- "I told you, I'm sick of this jagoff being in front of us,"- Rossi said to him, and Aaron nodded.

- "Dave's right. We'll go back to the BAU. Morgan, Reid, (Y/N), Prentiss, you stay here and make sure no one forgets to log out of the system. Garcia should not have access."

We all stayed in her living room as Garcia walked to her room and hacked her own system. At the other side of the screen, Kevin Lynch, the analyst of another FBI department, was fighting back, trying to protect the files, and losing the fight after a few minutes.

Later on, (Y/N) explained to me that was how they met and finally how they fell in love. I guess everything happens for a reason, after all.

We didn't catch the bad guy that day. Instead, JJ was forced to kill him. It was the very first time she shot anyone, and surprisingly, she wasn't as shook up as we all imagined she might be.

- "You do whatever it takes to protect your family,"- she said when Penelope asked her if she was ok.

And she was right. That's how we all felt for each other at that point. And somehow, we all knew we were going to prove it, sooner or later.

(Y/N)'s point of view

I had been part of the BAU for almost three years already when it happened. And I felt so stupid 'cos we had all had a rough couple of weeks, and the last thing anyone needed was another worry. We had just gotten over the whole Penelope issue; having another member of the team injured was the worst thing that could happen.

But it did.

I got shot.

We were after our unsub. George Flemming. The bastard had killed four women in less than a month, convinced God had sent him to Earth to get rid of sin. We had been after him for two whole weeks until we finally got him. But I was stupid and reckless and didn't wait for backups. I wanted to catch that mother fucker, 'cos the way he had killed those women made me madder than I had ever been with an unsub before. That's too dangerous. You can't lose yourself in a case, 'cos you lose your objectivity. You risk your life every day in this job, but that specific day, I put mine on a silver platter.

We were supposed to wait for backup. I was just checking the perimeter, searching for the unsub. Spencer was with me, but he stayed behind for a second, trying to contact Garcia to run the plate number of a car we found hidden in a barn. I should have waited for him, but I couldn't stay still and do nothing when I heard a woman screaming for help. I had to run and try to save her. I wasn't going to let George kill yet another innocent woman and get away with it. He had to pay.

- "FBI! Freeze!"- I shouted as I walked into the last room of the house and found George holding close and pointing a gun at a woman who was covered in blood and bruises but still very much alive. Which, I must say, was a relief.

- "Stay away!! I'll shoot her!! I swear I'm gonna shoot her!!"

The unsub was sweating cold; he looked sick and weak. He looked like I could definitely take him down in a fight.

- "George! Put down the gun!"- I commanded and didn't move my eyes from him.

- "You put your gun down!"

- "I am sorry, George, but I can't do that!"- I answered- "Now let her go and put the gun down before anyone else gets hurt."

- "I don't have to listen to a whore like you! Who do you think you are? Giving me commands? You are evil!! Evil!"- he shouted, clearly losing control.

- "(Y/N), where the hell are you?!"- I heard Reid asking in the earpiece, and I just shook my head.

- "That's all you've got, George? Hiding women in the back of your house and threatening them with your gun? That makes your God proud?"

- "Shut up!! You bring disgrace to Earth! You should be punished too!!"- I took a step closer slowly and shook my head.

- "You are going to be punished, George. For killing innocent women."

- "Innocent? What makes you think they didn't deserve it?"

- "What makes you think you are the one to judge them?"

I kept my gun pointed at him, but I couldn't take a shot 'cos he grabbed the victim and kept her close to him, like a shield.

- "There's a special place in hell for whores like you!"- he announced, and suddenly, all I could feel was pain. There was a second gunshot, and George was down. I took a look around and saw Morgan still pointing his gun at him from outside the room, as Spencer and Prentiss ran inside, and he moved to me and held me close.

- "Medic!! We need a medic!!"- Reid yelled frantically through the speaker- "(Y/N)! How do you feel?"

- "I'm ok, honey bunny,"- I whispered in the most excruciating pain I had ever felt in my entire life- He just shot my shoulder, nothing important.

But the way Spencer looked at me, I swear that no one has ever looked at me the same until this day.

- "Don't move!"- he commanded, though his voice was soft and gentle. Prentiss took care of checking George's body. He was clearly dead. She liberated his last hostage and helped her to the ambulance while Reid stayed by my side until a doctor appeared.

- "Why didn't you wait for me?"- Spencer asked as they took me to the ambulance.

- "She needed help"- that was all I could say.

- "Please, try not to talk,"- the paramedic commanded and got me into the ambulance, followed closely by Reid.

- "I'm coming with her."

My best friend wasn't asking for permission. He was informing the medical team he wasn't going anywhere else. And by the tone of his voice, it was clear no one was ever going to change his mind.

- "That was so stupid, chipmunk,"- Spencer whispered and held my hand in our way to the nearest hospital. The paramedics kept pressing my shoulder to stop the bleeding, and I just closed my eyes 'cos honestly, it hurt too much to process what was going on.

- "I am so sorry I wasn't there with you, chipmunk."

- "It's ok, honey,"- I mumbled- "You are right. I was stupid. This is my fault."

- "Please, don't talk,"- the paramedic commanded again, and I just shut up 'cos the pain was too much.

Spencer stayed by my side the whole time. After we reached the hospital, the paramedics took me to the ER, where a doctor cleaned my wound and took out the bullet from my shoulder.

It was a clean wound, and luckily, no arteries were hit. I just got some stitches and a sling, plus a few painkillers I really didn't want to take, 'cos after Spencer's experience with drugs, I was scared of painkillers.

- "Thank you,"- I whispered to the nurse who helped me get dressed and walked out of the room to find Spencer filling up the medical forms and Morgan and Prentiss waiting for me

- "How are you feeling, princess?"- Derek asked and caressed my cheek.

- "Like a virgin"- I sang the Madonna song- "Shot for the very first time"- and though Emily chuckled, Spencer didn't think it was funny.

- "I can't believe you think this is something to joke about!"- Reid frowned, upset.

- "Calm down, honey. I'm ok, I'm alive. It was just a shot on the shoulder."

- "Just? Just a shot in the shoulder?"- and Spencer freaked out- "Did you know some of the larger vessels of the human body run through the shoulder? The subclavian artery and vein, which by the way, are the basic blood supply to the upper extremity."

- "I'm sorry, honey bunny. I shouldn't have said that."- I whispered and tried to calm him down, 'cos I knew precisely the kind of man Spencer could be when he was mad and stressed.

- "The brachial plexus is also located in the shoulder, and it's the primary nerve supply to the upper extremity as well,"- he added and didn't take his eyes from the form he was filling.

- "I understand,"- I added, but he didn't stop.

- "You should also know that the shoulder is a very complex spheroid joint, and if it's injured, it can lead to lifelong disability."

I stood in front of Spencer and placed my movable hand on his chest. That forced him to stop writing and look at me.

- "I'm sorry I got hurt. It was a mistake. I didn't mean to make you mad at me or worry. I am ok, I am here, and I promise I won't do something as stupid and reckless as this ever again. Ok?"

Spencer looked at me and sighed. Morgan and Prentiss were still there by our side, and I had the feeling that stopped my friend from saying what was in his mind. Instead, he nodded and cut me a short smile.

- "Good. Can we go home now?"- I asked, and Morgan grabbed my bag immediately.

- "The jet is waiting, pretty girl. Let's go."

The flight back home was too long. It was only a four hours flight from Fargo to Quantico. But it felt eternal. Besides, I kept doing my best to act cool and in zero pain, in a poor attempt not to worry Spencer. Little did I know, no matter what, he would be worried sick anyway.

- "I was on the phone with Frank,"- he announced and sat in front of me with a cup of hot chocolate.

- "Please don't tell me you called to tell him I got shot,"- Spencer stared at me and cut me a short smile. I closed my eyes and groaned- "Did he go nuts?"

- "No, I started by telling him you were alright."

- "Thank you,"- I whispered and sipped the cup he had prepared for me just the way I liked it, even with the little marshmallows.

- "Your mom went bonkers, though."

- "You called my mom?!"- I shouted, and everybody in the team turned around and looked at us- "Why did you do that?"- Spencer looked at me surprised and frowned.

- "You just got shot, chipmunk. Of course, I'm gonna tell your mom!"

- "But she is going to overreact!"

- "She won't! We already talked. She said she'd stop tomorrow by your apartment to have lunch."

- "Tomorrow, I'll be at work for lunch,"- I frowned, and I swear I wanted to cross my arms on my chest, but I couldn't, 'cos... I have been shot.

- "You won't be back to work until next week,"- Aaron announced from his seat, overhearing the conversation.

- "But Hotch! I'm ok!"

- "Spencer is correct. You just got shot. Take the rest of the week,"- I groaned and frowned at my boss.

- "I can still do my paperwork."- I can't believe I was begging not to get days off from work.

- "You do realize most people don't argue when their bosses give them a few days off, right princess?"- Derek took off his headphones and asked, frowning.

- "But I'm not injured,"- I argued, but I knew I was losing that fight.

- "Chipmunk, may I remind you, you just got shot!"- Spencer looked at me, annoyed.

- "But I'm fine! Look at me! I can dance!"- I was about to stand up and do a little dance, but Reid stopped me. He literally grabbed my good arm and kept me on my seat.

- "It's Wednesday. You just have to stay home Thursday and Friday. And I'll be there, making sure you won't do anything stupid."

I looked at Spencer and groaned one more time.

- "There's no way out of this, (Y/N). You are hurt, and I'm gonna take care of you."

- "Will you cook?"- I whispered and pouted, defeated. And Spencer chuckled, blushing.

- "I will definitely call and ask for your favorite food"- I tried not to smile and shook my head.

- "Oh no, no. If you wanna take the lead and take care of me, you will have to do the whole job and cook, Spencer Walter Reid."- I teased him, and his cheeks turned blood red in less than a minute.

- "Fine,"- he whispered, narrowing his eyes.

- "I can give you my carbonara a la Rossi recipe,"- David said to Spencer from his seat- "Guaranteed to heal all wounds, and special to cheer up your girlfriend, kid."

Everybody stayed quiet at the same time. I wide opened my eyes, shocked, and looked at Spencer, whose cheeks were burning red.

- "She... (Y/N) is not my girlfriend,"- Spencer mumbled and avoided looking at me for a few seconds. Rossi chuckled and turned to us.

- "You call each other cute nicknames, you are always together, you argue like I did with my first wife..."

- "No"- I shook my head and did my best to ignore Derek's teasing comments and Emily's laughter.

- "Well, you could have fooled me,"- David smiled at me, and I didn't know what to answer. I frowned and looked at Spencer, who somehow was even more blushed than he had been a moment earlier.

- "I'm driving you, by the way,"- he whispered, and I didn't really have the strength to argue against that, so I just nodded and sighed.

Spencer's point of view

I thought I was going to die when I saw (Y/N) lying on the floor, blood coming from her shoulder. Time passed in slow motion, like a movie cliché. I ran to her, and I didn't know if the perimeter had been secured. I had no idea if the unsub was dead. I would have killed him myself if I hadn't been focused on (Y/N).

Then she smiled and assured me she was ok. But that wasn't enough for me. Her face was so pale, though her smile was shining bright. So I held her and called a medic. She was in pain, and I didn't know what to do to help her.

I held her hand the whole ride to the hospital and stayed by her side in the ER while the doctor cleaned her wound and put some stitches on it. Then I walked with her to the jet, and the whole time I made my best and biggest effort to stay calm. But once we were on the air, on our way back home, I couldn't hold it back anymore. I could feel the tears fighting their way out, no matter how much I tried to keep them inside.

So I did what seemed more logical and locked myself in the backroom. I needed a minute to put myself together again before I had to continue pretending I didn't nearly lose the woman I love that day. So I washed my face and let the water run through my fingers for a few minutes, trying to calm myself down. But I failed, and the tears started falling down my cheeks anyway.

I rested my back against the door and slowly slipped down to the floor until I was sitting, hugging my legs, crying my heart out.

I knew why I was crying. It was a weird mix of fear and relief. I was scared to lose (Y/N), and at the same time, relieved nothing terrible had happened to her. I had to convince myself it was all ok, that she was there on the plane with me, hopefully trying to get some rest.

- "Spence?"- I heard JJ's voice at the other side of the door, and I quickly stood up and washed my face saying, "In a minute." I looked at my reflex. My eyes were puffed, my cheeks were red. There was no way I could ever convince anyone I hadn't been crying.

- "Can you open the door?"

- "There's another bathroom, JJ,"- I said and closed my eyes.

- "I need to talk to you."

- "I'm kind of busy here..."

- "Spence, please"- she begged, and I gave up, only because I knew she wasn't going to leave me alone. No one at the BAU seems to understand the concept of personal space.

I opened the door and let her in. The bathroom was too small for the two of us, and I didn't want to think of all the teasing I would get from Morgan if he saw us locked in there. JJ smiled and handed me a cup of coffee. I just sipped it carefully, 'cos it was very hot, and looked at my hands, avoiding eye contact.

- "Why were you crying?"- she whispered and stood against the wall in front of me.

- "I wasn't,"- I lied, but she just raised an eyebrow, and I knew it was useless to deny it- "It was a hard day, and I needed to decompress somehow."

- "Was it because of (Y/N)?"- she simply asked, and I just nodded- "It wasn't your fault, Spence."

- "I should have been there. But I stayed behind, on the phone with Garcia checking the plate of a car that didn't even matter at the end."

- "You were doing your job, and so was she."

- "But I should have done my job better, 'cos something bad might have happened to her, and I would have never forgiven myself,"- JJ nodded and reached out for one of my hands. I tried not to look at her but failed.

- "Are you going to tell her how you feel?"

- "Telling her I feel guilty she got injured won't stop her from being reckless,"- but JJ shook her head.

- "No, Spence. I'm talking about you telling her you are in love with her."

I widened my eyes and stayed still, shocked, blushed. JJ cut me a short smile and probably tried to soothe me, 'cos I immediately got all defensive.

- "What... what are you talking about? I am not in love with (Y/N),"- I whispered and prayed no one outside that bathroom had heard her.

- "Spencer, there is nothing wrong with being in love. I actually think you two would make a cute couple."

- "No, JJ, no. I am not in love with her."

- "Spence, I'm not a profiler, but you are not that hard to read. I can see the way you look at her."

- "She is my best friend."

- "But you love her,"- JJ sentenced, and I just sighed- "It's not wrong to have feelings for someone, Spence. I am sure she feels the same way too."

- "We are just friends. That's it. Thanks for the coffee,"- I added and opened the door.

I walked out of the bathroom in a rush. To avoid talking with anyone on the plane, I called Frank and told him what had happened. I also asked him for Mrs. (Y/L/N) phone number and explained the facts too. She was so scared it took me a while to calm her down.

- "I'm going to stay with her tonight,"- I said and looked at (Y/N) at the other side of the yet. She hadn't slept at all, and I knew she had to rest.

- "Thank you, Spencer. I'll be in Virginia tomorrow. I'm visiting Phoenix in New York this week."

- "Don't worry, Mrs. (Y/L/N), I'll take care of her."

- "You are the sweetest man she could have met,"- she whispered before hanging down, and I couldn't help but wonder if she knew it too.

Apparently, I wasn't hiding my feelings for (Y/N) very well. If JJ could see it, maybe anyone else could. And after what Rossi said, I didn't know if I was busted or not. I didn't know anything. (Y/N) seemed to be as shocked as I pretended to be, so I guess I felt safe. But I knew I had to watch my back now.

Of course, planning to stay with her that night didn't make it easier for me at all.

- "I'm ok, honey bunny,"- she argued and sat carefully on her couch- "You don't have to stay here with me."

- "I'm sorry, chipmunk, but you were shot. There is nothing on Earth that's gonna make me leave you alone right now."

- "Fine, then help me take a shower,"- she simply said, and I widened my eyes. I know I even held my breath at that. I stared at her from the kitchen door, on my way to make her a cup of tea.

- "Well, in that case, I, I will do... I will do whatever you need to help you,"- I whispered and made my best not to stutter. She shook her head and sighed.

- "I was bluffing, honey. But I mean it, you don't have to stay and take care of me. I'll be fine. Just go home and rest,"- but all I could do was walk to the kitchen and put on the kettle.

- "I'm not going anywhere, so... how do you feel about that carbonara a la Rossi recipe?"

- "Spencer Walter Reid, you don't cook."

- "I do cook! Do you think I've lived on take-outs and coffee all these years?"

- "Hell yeah!"- she said and chuckled. She was right, though. I wasn't the best or more experienced cooker on Earth. But for her, I could try.

- "I tell you what. What if you take a bath and relax, I'll cook you dinner, and then we'll watch a movie? Anything you pick."

- "Anything?"- she raised an eyebrow and stared at me so sweetly and concentrated, I nearly stopped breathing. I didn't trust myself with an answer, so I just nodded and looked at her. Her cheeks were blushing, and that made me feel better. Clearly, she was relaxing at home. The color was coming back to her after being hurt. That was always a good sign.

- "Even my favorite chick flick?"- (Y/N) bit her lips and caught my full attention with that simple movement. I nodded again, not really thinking what she meant with "chick flicks." All I could think of were her lips and how incredibly soft they looked.

- "Even Pride and Prejudice?"- she added, and I nodded again.

- "It's an essential piece of literature. Jane Austen was an incredible writer,"- my voice was muffled, and her eyes were shining- "Did you know In 1802, in her late 20s, Austen briefly accepted a proposal from Harris Bigg-Wither, the younger brother of two of her close friends? She rescinded it the following day."

- "Yes, neither her nor her sister ever married"- (Y/N) added, and her eyes moved from mine, traveling around the room- "She believed that a woman shouldn't get married if she wasn't in love. She once advised her niece Fanny Knight that "anything is to be preferred or endured rather than marrying without affection."

Somehow, (Y/N)'s eyes were blurry with sadness all of a sudden. Her words stopped. I was tempted to hold her hands that rested on her lap but stopped myself. I was scared to give too much away, and that she suspected how I felt about her. I didn't want her thinking I was in love with her. Don't get me wrong, I was. I am. And I know I will always love her. But that night on that couch, I was afraid of her rejection and scared she might have stopped being my friend if she ever knew how I really felt about her.

- "Maybe you are right, honey,"- (Y/N) whispered and slowly stood up- "I'll take that bath after all."

- "Watch those stitches"- I quickly stood up too and just nodded, looking at her as she started walking towards her room- "I'll cook dinner meanwhile."

- "Thank you, honey bunny,"- she said and turned around just to cut me a small smile before disappearing into her bedroom.

I made my best effort with dinner. I followed Rossi's instructions to the letter. (Y/N) had a lot of food in her fridge. Unlike me, she actually cooked her own meals. She was right about me and the take-outs. I had never been a great cook, and I trusted my local Thai place with most of my dinners. But that night was different.

Pasta carbonara was pretty good, I must say. (Y/N) opened a bottle of wine, though I told her it was a horrible idea mixing drinking with the pain killers she was prescribed.

- "I am actually not taking them,"- she whispered and took a sip of red.

- "You had a major injure on that shoulder (Y/N)."

- "It's just five stitches, honey. I don't need those pills. I actually didn't even get them,"- she replied. I looked at her in awe, thinking she was way stronger than she even gave herself credit for.

- "In that case, you can have two glasses of wine and extra dessert,"- I stated, and she chuckled.

We ate in silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. I guess the two of us were pretty tired that night. It had been a long day, a long case, and though neither of us wanted to deal with it, we knew things could have easily gone wrong.

After eating, I cleaned the dishes and prepared a tray with a cup of herbal tea for (Y/N), a coffee for me, and two bowls of ice cream, and we cuddled on the couch to watch Pride and Prejudice. She whispered most of the lines and argued against Darcy for half of the movie. But by the end, she snuggled closer to me, and I wrapped an arm around her carefully, trying not to get near her shoulder at all. Her head was resting on my chest, and I could feel her sighing with each word that Darcy spoke.

- "What is it with you and this book?"- I asked her suddenly. She huffed and looked at me with a cut, short smile.

- "I don't know, but I've been obsessing with Darcy and Lizy ever since I first read the story. I guess the classic "fools in love" story is my weakness. How couldn't they see how much they loved each other from day one?"

My mouth fell open, but I didn't say a word. She just smiled and turned to the screen again. That was good. I didn't want her to see how flustered I was.

- "Darcy knew he loved her, but he tried to fall out of love with her, and she was completely blinded by her so-called "hate" towards him to deal with her real feelings."- (Y/N) added- "I know that's not a complex and complete study of the story but in a short version of the whole plot... I guess that's what's so endearing and addictive about it. Everyone has been Darcy or Lizzy."

- "I doubt most people can relate with having four sisters and an obsessive nervous mother who keeps forcing you to get married,"- I joked, and (Y/N) giggled.

- "You'd be surprised, honey,"- she sighed and snuggled closer. My hand played with her hair for a few more minutes until the end of the movie.

- "(Y/N)?"- I whispered when we were already in bed. I wore the pajamas I kept in my go bag and crawled into bed with her as soon as she asked me to sleep with her. Ee had done it before, it wasn't weird, and we were best friends.

There was absolutely nothing friendly with how I felt, though. But I had to put all those feelings in a box and hide them deep inside of me 'cos they were no good for our relationship.

- "What happens, Spencer?"

- "I just wanted to tell you... you scared me today,"- she sighed. We were already hugged, but she snuggled closer and kissed my cheek softly.

- "I'm sorry, Spencer. I'll be more careful, I promise."

It was such a simple promise, and I knew though she meant well, the job was always going to get in the way. Our lives were always on the line working at the BAU. And no matter how much we wanted to take care of ourselves, sometimes things were out of our control.

- "Promise me you'll be careful too,"- she whispered, and I leaned over to kiss the top of her head gently.

- "I promise I'll be careful, chipmunk."

- "Will you always come home to me?"- she whispered and sighed, dozing off.

- "Always. I love you so much, (Y/N)"- that last confession fell from my lips before I could even realize what I was saying.

- "I love you too, honey,"- she answered, her voice muffled against my chest.

I stayed still, trying to burn in my memory every second of that moment, 'cos I knew it was going to be one of my most precious memories until my last day.

–

DIWK Taglist:

@all-tings-diego @big-galaxy-chaos @muffin-cup @shilohpug @eternalharry @tvandfanfic

Spencer taglist

@calm-and-doctor

General Taglist

@spenxerslut @ash19871962 @babebenhardy @meowiemari @archer561

–

Do you want to be on the taglist or ramble about this chapter with me? Just send me a message here.

Next update: June 9th, 2021

[okimargarvez]

ABYSS- the Supreme sacrifice - Chapter 1

Original title: Abisso- il supremo sacrificio.

Prompt: mother’s love, kidnapping, distress, tragedy.

Warnings: mention of Character’ Death and rape, O.C..

Genre: angst, drama, action, romantic, family, friendship.

Characters: Penelope Garcia, Luke Alvez, Derek Morgan, Savannah Hayes, O.C.

Pairing: Garvez, Morcia.

Note: multichapter.

Legend: 😘👓🔦🎈⚰.

Song mentioned: none.

Abyss- Masterlist

GARVEZ STORIES

Note: this is my real first Garvez (but even Morcia) fanfic. The song Slipped away by Avril Lavigne inspired me for the plot and the final. It’s a hard story, I talked about weighty topics, it’s not fluffy at all. If you think it’s better if I don’t post it here, please, tell me.

Chapter 1

The heart of a mother is a deep abyss at the bottom of which you will always find forgiveness. (Honoré de Balzac)

1- The germ

Every fiber of her body vibrates to that tenuous thought, but the woman is expert in pushing it away.

-Someone is very thoughtful tonight.- a voice says behind her, that causes a slight jolt.

-Ha ha, very funny.- she turns to him and smiles. It still seems impossible to think that only a few months before (well, a year now) she couldn’t even look at him in the face, because the calienti Latin traits were replaced by equally fascinating features, but much more painful. Too many similarities, if one was busy to see them. Both were handsome men, for whom all women dizzy and immediately stopped doing what occupied them at the time of the apparition, regardless of the importance of it. Both had something exotic and tasty.

And both (but this she can’t know) are attracted to her, an attraction that must be understood in the absolute sense of the term: an interest that, for someone, can lead to a deeper bond.

Something very similar is passing into the mind of the special agent Luke Alvez as he examines every detail of the woman in front of him. Blonde hair, slightly wavy, glasses that cover those spheres that are a direct mirror of her soul.

Derek is what he can read, printed in indelible characters. Derek Morgan, still present as a shadow that oppresses him, hides him. And he feels exactly like the second wife told by Hitchcock in Rebecca, so crushed by the first that she can’t even afford her own name, nor own personality. It wasn’t the first time he had to replace someone, indeed. Since he was a child he had been used to constant change, to the impossibility of making real friends, knowing full well that it would not last. Yet this had allowed him to have an elastic character, had developed in him an innate ability to forge relationships with people, at first glance, without too many turns of words and this had returned very useful in his work. So he had drawn the best from an unfavorable circumstance, which very often created children, then boys and then adults, unable to forge ties, to the constant search for a fixed point, which at the time when they lost it went into crisis and could become (also) serial killers like those who had to chase.

All this explained perfectly his attitude when, a year ago, he had been easily received by the whole team, consisting of a mix of different members, a super smart young boy, a blonde and a brunette (both not bad) that knows what they’re doing in more senses, a veteran and writer, a man with a severe appearance (it still hurts to think of him, although he has hardly had time to become attached to the big boss) which was then added an old acquaintance, a brunette also  interesting… in short, a beautiful variety that seemed to work as a Swiss mechanism, each had own place and made available their qualities and skills for the success of the mission, everyone seemed aware of the value of each other… yet despite having just lost a gear, they hadn’t shown particular anxiety in welcoming a new member. Everybody but one, the one that had immediately been more apart (although later, soon enough, he would have discovered that it was not a typical attitude of the girl in question): a shapely blonde in all the right places, quite eccentric in the way of dressing and also to furnish her own den. The computer technician Penelope Garcia. When he showed up she had barely looked at him and he, slightly aware of his charm, was disappointed. Even the other blonde, JJ, who wears wedding ring and as he would have learned later was busy, didn’t miss the opportunity to give him a look not really friendly, even if Luke had appeared more like a kind of verification to admission. Penelope had shaken his hand with difficulty and then had run out; during the discussion of the cases she did everything (in a way too obvious) to avoid being near him and when she was sending information while they were outside, never called his number.

If she had seemed a shy girl, he might have thought the opposite of what had been ruminating for months, or rather that the tech had a crush to the new guy. But he was not so stupid and then he had seen her with the others, even if almost practically hidden and the attitude was quite different from what she had with him. She laughed, joked, always smiled, made fun of them by calling them with affectionate nicknames and others that probably only they knew. Even Hotch didn’t seem to be immune to the rite and was called “boss” with militaristic meaning. In addition, avoid him didn’t consist in keeping her eyes down when they crossed mistakenly in the corridor together, indeed, the few times that their eyes met, Penelope was never the one who lowered gaze first, but her expression suggested a kind of hate, what hate couldn’t be because this feeling takes time to bloom like love, rather we could talk about unjustified antipathy.

Or at least it remained until he had decided to ask the remaining members of the profiler section of the BAU. Unexpectedly, it was the last arrival, Emily, to put an end to his “sufferings”, explaining that she wasn’t angry with him, that he could also be the pope, the president of the United States or even David Bowie (he would have understood those things only later), in any case Penelope hated his role or rather the fact that he had taken that role, that place, or that which was until recently of Derek Morgan. From here she had begun to tell a series of memories, interspersed with anecdotes of others, who in the meantime had added since there were no cases to examine. Fortunately, Agent Garcia was home sick. From the various fragments, Luke had painstakingly made a global picture and finally understood everything. Agent Morgan had been “the hero” par excellence, especially for Penelope. He had climbed into an ambulance and risked blow up to save the lives of many people, including his colleagues; he was able to overcome a personal trauma not unimportant (but what kind they hadn’t absolutely wanted to tell him) and derive the strength to continue his work. But above all, he had always worried about his “baby girl” (epithet that first made him turn up his nose), he had tried to protect from the evils that they fought together. At this point it had seemed obvious to him asking how long they had been together and everyone had looked at him with shocked faces, before bursting out laughing. -Never.- JJ had finally answered, and then she had added more quietly -at least not officially.- he had thus come to know the epilogue of the idyll: Morgan had found a woman who had put an end to his being a playboy, a wife and he had settled down, creating a new life, then his wife had been kidnapped and he had decided that his family would no more be been put at risk by his job. End.

From that moment it was him who had stopped try to have a friendly relationship with Penelope, because now that he knew, he had absolutely no idea how to exploit the information in his possession. In other words, the thought that she had avoided him through no fault of his own, but because she was obsessed with the idea of ​​someone who was no longer, it was something too difficult to overcome. The Fate, however, was put in the middle and so, to make it short, they had found themselves in a situation where there was no way to avoid each other and in the end, after spending an hour exchanging secret and challenging looks, Luke had exploded and told her that he had never intended to replace her marvelous Derek Morgan, so he had headed for the exit, contravening Prentiss’s orders, which became after the death of Hotch the new chief of the unit, since Rossi had refused and JJ or Spencer didn’t seem suitable. Penelope had taken a little too many seconds to get out of the catalepsy she had fallen into, but then, just in time, she had managed to come back to life to stop him. And she had simply apologized for behaving so unjustly with him. She hadn’t cried, nor begged him. In a calm voice, she limited himself to explaining the situation to him (unaware that he already knew the plot) and then she had kept silent, probably waiting for him to let off steam, telling her who knows what. Instead, Luke gave her a quiet smile and gently touched her shoulder in a friendly gesture, and then said, -Let’s do what we came here to do.-

From that time there were no more real problems between them. Their relationship had grown to the point of turning in mutual trust, even though she always seemed distant when they met out of work context, as if she were afraid of going too far … without either of them really knowing where they wanted to go. Every now and then, Luke had the impression that Penelope didn’t see him but his predecessor because it was painting on her face a strange expression of joyous melancholy, where the sad component eventually prevailed. And he couldn’t help but wait for her to return to the real world.

As in this exact moment.

-Penelope… are you there ?- he doesn’t call her with any particular appellation, even if sometimes he would like to. He’s afraid of what might happen, although they’ve known each other for over a year, and she once told him she’d talked to Derek, about his life in Chicago, his baby, apparently as if she had overcome her “problem”. But the reality is very different, and Luke knows it.

-Sorry…. I was thinking of something that I dreamed the other night…- seeing a strange nuance in the expression of him, she hastens to specify -not of that kind, maniac!- and she lets away a laugh that only some time ago she would never have had the courage to do, as if Derek had taken away from her the right to be happy without him. -It’s a fairly recurring dream, but nothing classic, like falling to infinity… it’s about- and as soon as Luke catches her expression he understands that she’s about to tell him something important, so he becomes more careful and involuntarily even closer. -A sudden awakening, I’m anguished, I feel that there is something wrong, but without knowing what it’s, then a sudden idea illuminates me. Where are my parents? Inside of me I know the answer and yet pass a few but still very long minutes before I can remember that it’s useless to get excited and wait for them, because they are… dead, when I was eighteen… I told you that already, or not?- he, who was absorbed and completely absorbed by her evocative ability, emerges from the water and shakes his head. -Ah…- moment of embarrassment. -There often happens to me to have… this nightmare, the worst thing are those seconds when I haven’t yet realized the truth, because combined with the anxiety of expectation, there is indissolubly a damn and useless hope… sorry, sorry if I have harassed you with this story… you’ll be tired, you just came back from an intense case … – he is about to reply that she has been engaged in it, but then he lets it go.

-Don’t apologize. I’m interested.- he would say I’m interested in you, but for now he only allowed himself to look at her closely, but not too much. Foreshortening.

The acute shrill breaks the apparent quiet of the evening.

-Love, could you go?- what at first glance would seem a classic and quiet phrase, conceals hidden subtests, which only a trained ear can grasp. The man snorts and, knowing he isn’t seen, unleashes his frustration on the cards he was previously filling out, throwing them into the air, while aware that he’ll have to fix everything on his return. But the momentary euphoria in doing a wrong act repays the further future effort. When he reaches the object of the call, it’s visible only a warm smile on his face.

-Hello, little one, Daddy’s love, how are you?- that little creature so defenseless is also his merit, but is still hard to convincing himself. Another cry, this time female, destroys the atmosphere of mild tranquility that had been created. He snorts again, then tries to pretend nothing is happened, but it seems that tonight nothing wants to give him respite.

-Derek! It’s your phone, could you come and pick up the phone?- he goes quickly towards the voice, throwing a last glance at the bundle wrapped in blankets. He doesn’t even imagine that a ghost of the past (yet still so present, although he has tried in vain to deny it) is going to make it shake forcefully. He takes the device from his wife’s hands and responds in his classic way.

-Morgan.- there is a moment of silence before he hears someone speak from the other end of the line.

-Derek, I… I hope not to bother you…- he is about to interrupt her. Emily. It’s not like her call so late, without a reason… And he immediately realizes everything. Even before the woman can pronounce what he fears. -I… I would not ask you if it wasn’t really necessary. You should… be able to come here… to Quantico.-

-Why?- he finally manages to ask.

-Garcia… Penelope was kidnapped.-

Here, exactly what I feared. How did I know it was about her? It’s… it’s been months since I can’t think about how strange it’s not to see her every morning, don’t joke with her on the phone. It’s more than a year that someone doesn’t call me chocolate thunder. I would have needed her so much, few months ago, since… it’s too hard to think about it. She would have helped me, she would have been able to say the right words… He doesn’t need Prentiss to talk to remember everything suddenly. Penelope has been kidnapped. My baby girl is in danger, right now she could be… I can’t even say it in my head. I have to… I have to pack, pack a bag, I have to tell Savannah… Savannah. -I’ll get there as fast as I can.- and put down the phone. The brunette woman stops doing what she was doing and turns to him.

-Derek, where you are going?-

-Savannah, Emily called me… Garcia has been kidnapped and they need me to go to Quantico.- he tries to use a tone as quiet as possible, while the wheels of his brain go to a thousand per hour, thinking about  where it’s going to go.

-But you’re no longer part of the team, you’re not longer a federal. What do you have to do? - already feels the frustration make its way in the body of the woman he should most want.

-I still have some knowledge, I know some things that can help…- he sees anger rise to her eyes and finally explode.

-You don’t really know anything! You are no longer a profiler. Morgan, listen to me. If you go there I…- he has no more time to waste and certainly has no patience to gently convince his half of the need for his intervention. Or perhaps he simply doesn’t have the courage to say what he really feels, and he knows that she is aware, but he is convinced that until it’s pronounced aloud, that reality can’t be materialized.

-Do not say it.- he comes out more like a threat than the supplication he originally intended to express. -Savannah, I have to go.- a significant pause -I love you.- he lays a very quick kiss on her cheek. He feels a pain in his chest as he looks at her, but it’s not because he told a lie. Love is much more complicated than what one would like to believe. Much more stratified and complex.

________________________________

TAGS: @arses21434 @kathy5654 @martinab26 @reidskitty13 @jenf42 @gracieeelizabeth27 @silviajajaja @smalliemichelle99 @charchampagne14 @thinitta   @myhollyhanna23 @garvezz  @shyladystudentfan @cosmicmelaninflower @avengerquake123vanuusims  @inlovewithgarvaz @the-ellen-stuff

[okimargarvez]

S. VALENTINE IN RED (BLOOD)

Original title: San Valentino in rosso (sangue)

Prompt: crime case, anonymous courtesy, one night deleted.

Warning: none.

Genre: romantic, angst, friendship.

Characters: Penelope Garcia, Luke Alvez, BAU team, Roxy.

Pairing: Garvez.

Note: oneshot.

Legend: 💑💏😘😈🔦🐶

Song mentioned: none.

A serial killer who kills only once a year: in the period preceding and following Valentine’s Day. His victims are apparently random, they don’t have in common neither gender nor ethnicity, or age, or social class. But the BAU team is forced to speed up the investigation, when their computer technician is in danger of becoming next victim.

MY OTHER GARVEZ STORIES

S. VALENTINE IN RED (BLOOD) 02/14/16

-And those flowers? - the dark man scrutinizes the colorful bunch of carefully placed on the desk of computer technician. The latter glares at him, asking him telepathically probably the reason for his sudden entrance. He had never entered in before. In nearly six months. The thing is quite strange.

-What is it, Alvez, do you think I bought them myself?- her tone is ironic with different bad shades, as always when she talking with him, apart from rarely if the subject of their conversation is Roxy. Yet that draws him far more than if she behaves like with all the others, even with Stephen, the very latest member who was joined their team, with whom she has been since the beginning sweet, cute and loving. Exactly the opposite to him: after all he has committed a serious infringement: he had taken the place of Agent Morgan.

-No.- he answers only. As hard as her is a weird, eccentric person, especially in the way she dresses up her hideout and herself, from what he can see (he doesn’t lose the opportunity to carefully scrutinize every detail of the room, all the pictures - damn, how many photos of her with Derek, them hugging… - cuddly puppets, colored pens), he can’t imagine her buying flowers for herself. She maintains a fixed her gaze in that of man. Always with the same defiance in her eyes, but what’s really at stake? He has some ideas, one, to be sure, but not the courage to express it. But something shines through her manner however: the lips that fold into mischievous way, arched eyebrows, smarting eyes and brighter than usual.

-So, what do you want? - how strong is the urge to take off that grimace of her mouth, once and for all? Enough to fall? Or surrender?

-Anything. But Emily told me that we must work together.- he announced casually, as if he didn’t care the task given by their leader. He really isn’t able to mask the entire satisfaction that he feels, telling her that she’ll forced to endure his presence for many more hours than what she thinks; that she had to got to get over it, seek to cooperate with him. Alone. The woman snorts, whirling around, turning to one of the numerous screens scattered around her bunker and sitting at her desk. Her blond hair flutter wrapping her face. He doesn’t hold a slight chuckle and after a moment’s pause, he approaches her slowly, bending and staying a few centimeters from her neck. For a moment in his mind pass very different images, from those of the case that they should studied.

-I am perfectly able to do my part alone.- she says, her voice firm and precise, not even turning and trying to pretend she doesn’t care the concrete fact that the damn breath of him, warm and… (no!) is brushing her bare and vulnerable skin. She doesn’t know if the man has noticed it, but soon his face is almost up to her shoulder and she can’t help but experience a feeling of deja-vu quite particular, because the male subject isn’t the same of her memories. And this is precisely the problem. She feels the weight of his eyes and embarrassment that tries to make red her cheeks. But she’ll never give this satisfaction to him. But he doesn’t stop to staring her and if she thought good for a moment about it, she would come to the right conclusion. Three coincidences are a proof. And she would have far more to explore.

-I’m sorry, Emily said that we can’t stay alone and you have to get over it, she had entrusted you to me.- he makes a significant pause. She hates when he does that. And then, the choice of terms. Entrusted, as if I were a… No, what Alvez intends is quite different, as if she really need a protection… -You have to learn to be more professional.- isn’t the first time that he gives her a scolding this kind. Once he dared to say that she should be nicer (but in his head, he thought cute) with him. I, the Queen of nice! And he had the gall to respond, Maybe like … the Queen of ice. And perhaps the heart of the matter was that the beautiful dark man wanted to be able to make melted her… in more ways than one.

-Okay, Newbie.- she strongly highlights her favorite nickname for him. -There are papers.- she shows him a huge pile that nearly submerge whole table. -We must digitize each document.- she makes even a break, allowing herself to turn her head toward his. Now they are at the same height. She approaches a bit. A little too much. she seems to see his pupils dilate, but… -Enjoy yourselves.- and she returns to take care of her computer.

Luke passes the next three minutes mentally relive the last scene. What the hell she had wanted to do? Only provoke him, or was there more? Maybe she… knew? And what it was there to know? Here was the real question. So, it’s better if he focuses his resources on those files. And so, he begins with finding a chair, bringing it closer to that of her (but not too much, keep a safe distance) and dictate her those information’s, which turn quickly in brilliantly data from the action of darting and quick fingers of the bespectacled blonde. She is so fast also in other situations? he can’t help but wonder, then he thanks everyone who has made sure that the thoughts remain as such, stored in personal storage and inaudible from other external.

-What’s the matter with you, Alvez? You saw a ghost?- he realizes that he was holding clutching a paper from a long time. She is peering him too carefully. He must recover immediately.

-I was… I was just thinking that today is Valentine’s day.- he shoots the first bullshit that crosses his mind. She doesn’t seem very convinced, but she flies over.

-Uh uh.- she emits verses in television sitcom style -Don’t tell me that Roxy has a rival.- is her convoluted way in order to extract information without him clearly understand that she is interested to know if he is engaged, without her knowing. And maybe something more, but we overlook. This is what the dark man hoped, but not betting on it too many chips. He shakes his head. He is unable to say more, because it would sound something like Actually yes, she is here in front of me. What the hell is this thought? Concentrate on this damn case! But there’s nothing to do. Isn’t destiny that today is a fruitful day.

-It’s eight o'clock at night…- Garcia looks up to a rose clock kitten-shaped, with its tail beating the passing of every second. But he observes the way in which some tufts of her hair fall on the neck, until the neckline. But he can divert his attention before the computer technician being aware of it.

-Well, you can go home, I still have to settle a thing.- after a moment, she understands that he has no intention to carry out her order. -I don’t need a damn bodyguard!- she says, placing angrily already digitized documents in a special folder. Luke asks himself the real reason behind this sudden anger that seems to have possessed her. Even he seems to see a reflection in her dark eyes and some crystals on her eyelashes, as if she had been crying…

-It is useless to try to fool me, Garcia. We can’t be alone until the unsub shall have been catch.- and this thing doesn’t dislike him at all. But he lets her guess this only minimally. Almost there was a game going on, between them, an endless game, destined to remain without a winner. Not at least until neither of them will make a really bold move first. Not until neither of them won’t be willing to reveal his cards.

-But imagine if, with lean JJ blonde with blue eyes, Emily brunette and slender, Tara and her shades of amber… the crazy on duty would kidnaps me! - and how many things can be in a word produced by a single syllable, two only letters? A whole world, immense suffering, an unknown past (but not too). Garcia isn’t unable to restrain herself. She wouldn’t certainly have wanted to make it clear to the agent with whom she has less relation in entire team, that she not considered herself aesthetically worthy of being the victim of a serial killer.

-Except for the fact that they will not stand alone- ugly truth, this (JJ has Will and her sons, Tara her father and her brother, Emily has Mark and Sergio) -what would you mean?- but looking at those so damned dark eyes, in those depths in which she wants so desperately to get lost and not think about the consequences (at least for one fucking time), she realizes that he knows, what, how serious is, no, she doesn’t want to think about it. But he understood everything, or better he understood too much, and the blonde is not able to deal with the repercussions of this.

-What you think- she crosses her arms, defensive -and you not have the courage to say.- now his black eyebrows are raised surprised and concerned. But it’s just her head. It’s not real. -What I’m not beautiful enough to receive flowers from a stranger, nor chocolates… therefore why with all the beautiful women available in the BAU, someone should kidnap me?- and this time there is no trace of irony in her tone, or angry, if not towards herself. They dominate the sadness, sorrow towards what she feels like an absolute truth and impossible to change. -In the movie, those like me are killed only if they are unable to mind their own business.- but she reads too much understanding into those spheres open to scrutinize her. Too much to bear. If it was any other day, but it’s that day. She goes back in many years, when her hair, tied in pigtails, came up to the knees of Luke. When she was really happy, and she hadn’t to strain every day to believe it. She is a positive person. But there is difference between hoping and believe it seriously. One difference platonic, that only those who know the Iperuranio may really understand. Damned philosopher’s exam…

When tears begin to fall, she leaves free the documents, preventing them from stain and get wet with a part of her DNA. While the salty drops continue their path down her face up to clothes, she curses herself for being so weak, so foolish as to start crying right in front of him. She would have so much need of the man who replaced him. He doesn’t tease her. He would hug her, and everything seems better. Bearable. Better than nothing. But unfortunately, when she lifts her eyes in front of her there is always the ex-ranger, tall, dark and bland-some, and terribly sexy, even when he pretending to be concerned about her. If only he hadn’t occupied just that place. If only he hadn’t joined the BAU. If only she hadn’t been so… not his kind of woman. What the hell are these thoughts? She doesn’t like him, dammit, Luke Alvez. She can’t stand him. Every time she tries to take the elevator and believes she can enjoy a minute to herself, he appears behind her and he starts doing questions about her Canadian boyfriend. And then, wretched Emily, although I love you the same, she must stand him indefinitely. Why she had to put him with her? They could all camp out in their offices. But others have their lives outside of here: moms that need help, husbands and sons, boyfriends, ex-wives not too ex… You’re damn alone. And he is no less. Although he has at least a very cute dog waiting for him every night. And heck, how difficult it is to strive to appear unpleasant when there Roxy around.

From the corner of eye, despite hers are grew cloudy, worse than if there was fog on the highway, she captures a movement. The man is always there that stares at her, but now he is really extremely too close. An alarm continues to reverberate in her head.

-Penelope…- finally it’s what comes out of his lips, so stretched out toward hers, colored. She decides to completely ignore the tone of gentleness and understanding in his voice and focus on whatever he may have done wrong.

-Don’t call me Penelope. You’re not…- but this time Luke hasn’t going to wait, to grant her time.

-I’m not..?- and the distance is still reducing. She can’t argue anything. -Derek Morgan?- still no response or sign of life. -It’s his what you meant, or not?- any signs of tenderness disappear from his expression. In its place predominates again that look of defiance that she’ll never caught. -Exactly, I’m not. I’m your partner in this case, and because you don’t…- a moment before he had earned some points and less than a thousandth of a second later, he has already ruined it.

-I don’t have…?- the tears have dried on her eyelashes. The tap is finally closed. Her cheeks are red with anger that has again conquered her heart. -I haven’t anyone?- but it sounds more like an affirmation than one rhetorical question. -JJ has Will, Emily has Mark, Tara her father and brother, Spencer his mother, Stephen his family, Rossi his ex… and I have no one and that’s why I am forced to spend Valentine’s Day with you.- it was not exactly what she wanted to say. It could easily be misinterpreted. -Why I shouldn’t cry?- she stands up and deletes the last traces wet with a sleeves, giving him shoulders, not having the courage to hear his answer, if never will be there. But a sudden grip on her arm forces her to look back at him and in a second their equally dark eyes chained each other.

-I have never said that you shouldn’t cry…- he says so gently that this time even Penelope isn’t able to argue with some pungent phrase, fired at random (but not too).

-Please, don’t try to seems sweet.- she says after a few minutes that remain silent, simply either of them ever distract the eye from the other. -I’ll come home with you, I give up.- she raises her hands imitating the gesture of surrender. And for the second time in a few hours, in his mind pass very different pictures of how he would spend Valentine’s Day with her, if he could. -But I don’t want fake sentimentality.- she is quick to argue before turning off the computer, put on hers jacket (which can’t quite mask her exuberant forms), grab the bag and walk out of her bat-cave, followed by Luke. He raises his eyes to heaven, asking for divine help to survive the evening.

The elevator ride has never been so long. Those few seconds seem immense. Neither speaks. Luke looks at her only in passing, as to make sure that she is true. She doesn’t notice it, intently staring at her shoes. They come to his car in silence. Before he has the time to open the door, Penelope is already seated. Not because she feels at home, but just to prevent him to do some act that could put her even more embarrassed. Neither has the courage to break the ice. Luke thinks of a million ways to start a conversation, but he discards them one after another. Because in the end, the only thing he would like to ask her, is the reason why just a moment ago, she burst into tears. Not only because she doesn’t consider herself suitable to the kidnapping. He is sure. There’s more to this.

Eventually, however, they stop before in front of a house of modest size. But too big for one single person. And this time the blonde can’t prevent that her coworker opens the door to her. But he stays in the doorway, when she gives him a sharp look before disappearing behind the door of her own home. She didn’t intend to share with him this part of her life. She always tried to keep it separate from work, although ten years ago she was being unable to avoid it. After just five minutes she resurfaces with a small suitcase with wheels. She looks up and immediately Luke’s eyes capture hers. Apparently, she doesn’t seem to have moved since she had left him there. He notices the way she looks at him and he understand what she is thinking.

-It’s all worked out.- she justifies herself with a shrug. The man is going to grab it out of her hands, but she avoids him, fleeing toward the car. Left alone he raises his eyes to heaven (for the umpteenth time and probably certainly not the last) before reaching her. It will be a long night, much longer than he could believe. Because when they get closer to his home, where Roxy is awaiting (unaware of the surprise that awaits her), he can’t help but imagine what he would it was going to happen with her. It’s hard to concentrate on driving, having her so close. And when they ’ll behind those walls…

He opens the door and lets her go first; in doing so their bodies brush slightly, by transmitting tremors each other, although both do ignore it. But he is less able to her to play ignorant, and at that exact moment he would reach out his arms and holds her so that the contact between them endure some more. Her perfume, her skin … enough!

The hand automatically finds the switch. Roxy is in crisis because she doesn’t know whether to greet prior the guest or her master; eventually she opts for “attacking” both simultaneously. And in doing so she forces them to stay closer. After another awkward moment, she unexpectedly speaks first.

-Show me where I’ll sleep, so tomorrow morning we’ll be able to get up early and maybe then this story will be ended.- but he takes his time, indeed. He approaches her of a few centimeters to the passing of every minute. And she didn’t move away, but she not even goes meet him. She stays still, as in shock. The last time a man looked at her that way and who behaved in a similar way, she found herself with a bullet near the heart. But he isn’t like Battle. Even if she knows him too little to be able to judge him. But he is a federal, he doesn’t want to kill her. But… why he keeps getting closer and closer? He wants to make fun of her, is the only solution. Or loneliness is playing some sort of a trick with his mind and rather than spend Valentine’s Day alone, he is willing to pretend to be interested in her. In any case, when now only two air centimeters separates their faces, fortunately Luke stops. But his hands come to life and wrapping around her face, caressing her cheeks with both thumbs.

-What… what…- for a moment she isn’t able to ask the question. -What are you doing?- his gaze seems so sweet, as when he talks about his dog. It’s been too long since a man touched her seriously. She is too vulnerable. But she can’t give up at this point. She still has a dignity. And then… she turns red at the thought of showing naked before his eyes.

-Just something I wanted to do for a long time…- he whispers, not leaving the grip, while on his full lips is painted a smile devoid of any kind of irony. Still he can’t believe this is happening. He hadn’t decided a priori that as soon as they were safe within his walls, he would make his move. However, when there was that brief contact, he realized he couldn’t continue to reject the desire the whole evening. This was the opportunity he had been waiting for a while. When he would have another chance to have Garcia to his house? -I desire you terribly… I’ll not pretend it’s not so…- he immediately captures the expression of surprise which appears on her face. -If I were a unsub, crazy and dangerous, I’d kidnap you without thinking twice.- he whispers with a sexy tone that beats any Fifty (but even Hundred) Shades of Gray, Red, Black… is the most strange and absurd compliment that she have ever receive. She can’t help but chuckle, though nervously. -I’m serious, Penelope.- her name… how it sounds on those lips… it is useless that she still to deny. She wants him, she wants him in a way so tragic and intense, to hate herself. She needs him, without knowing why. And then his fingers slipping toward her mouth, touching her lips, opening her mouth, and finally he starts to lean in his direction, making her feel all their height difference. When their mouths come into contact, everything that happened before this moment seems to fade. She doesn’t want to think about the fact that tomorrow morning, definitely, she’ll be in the throes of remorse and repentance. At least for one evening, she wants to live what will happen and nothing else. While the tongues ​​are intertwined, conducting various dances, in the numerous minimum pause for breath, she feels so beautiful, so desired… After a few minutes his hands going to remove her jacket, without letting her, as she had watch only in the movie and this excites her more than she would like. Each button causes her a gasp. Taking courage even her fingers, colored with rainbow colors, getting under his shirt, unbuttoning it and finally meet the skin under it, run through the muscles in length and breadth. She can’t help but smile when she hears him moan with pleasure. -Penelope…- her jacket falls to the ground. The big hands of the man linger a moment, remaining on the ribs, causing her various chills. She has to give him the green light, so he finally can reach her breasts and losing his mind simultaneously. And when he realizes that he can’t really resist more, that his jeans are really too tight… he leads her into his room (where no other woman has ever set foot), making her walk backwards. He takes off her shirt, her skirt, then he is stopped from her hands and her agitated tone.

-We could… turn off the light?- she doesn’t want him to see her how she truly is, without make-up and accessories, out of her role as BAU’s omniscient genius. Without those things, she doesn’t think she can be attractive. And Luke didn’t take long to figure it out. He stares her intently, still stroking her cheek once.

-You don’t need anything else, apart from your soul, to shine before my eyes.- and after a statement like that, even the fears of Garcia falter, enough that allowed him to complete his work.

And before they become one, he looks long at her, with a mix of desire and tenderness, as if to make her understand that yes, he wants her in that sense, but there’s more behind and when he have will the courage to peer into his soul, he’ll prove it. And in that instant, she believes him.

Lying beneath his muscular body and dripping sweat, she still can’t be convinced that it really happened. Sure, she was out of practice, but he’s been… monstrous. Luke remains in this position for a while, raised his body with the arms to avoid crushing her. It was far more than what he could expected, though never before he had dared to imagine how it could be. Yet, though she seems satisfied, remains a shadow that floating on her face, trying to obscure that moment.

-What you’re thinking, chica?- a lifetime had gone by since the last time he had used that nickname for her. She hadn’t realized how much she missed until she hadn’t heard it again. There was a something personal and possessive, in that nickname in Spanish.

-That it was excellent sex, but in a few hours, my crumpled dress will be the only tangible trace of it.- he didn’t expect she would give him an answer so blunt. He is glad she told him the truth, but at the same time he didn’t like her choice of terms, to define their… Close encounter. But, thinking about it, in fact, she’s right.

-This depends on us…- he replies, without yet being able to expose himself. Penelope looks at him strangely. -If you wanted to…- he strives to take courage -…I could show you the difference between having sex and making love…- at this point the blonde pushes abruptly away him and trying to get dressed. When he tries to stop her, she begins to scream.

-Don’t try to make me believe that suddenly you’re in love with me or other silly stories like in C-movie. It’s Valentine’s Day, we found ourselves forced in this situation, I don’t… for a while, and because of the impetuousness that you have shown, I guess you too. Two frustrations have led to a few moments of satisfaction. Now we don’t have to build on this a Disney tale.- the worst is that she really seems to believe in what she says with bitterness and sadness, gradually lowering the pitch up to a kind of resignation.

-Even if I told you, you would think that is a lie, right?- she nods firmly. -So, let me try to use another kind of “speech”. If you were to have right, you just would have to making “good sex” like you insist on defining it…- and if she decides to surrender, it’s mainly because she wants to get to understand why the hell, he still wants to fool her with this story of “there is more than rubbing under the sheets”.

The next morning, they don’t get up at six, like Penelope had expected, but much later, exhausted from the second and third round. In the end he had reason; making love was something else; yet she still didn’t believe him at all, she couldn’t let go herself and risks, yet she was very close to do it. Already the first cracks in her armor of ice were visible without the aid of a microscope. Luke had understood, especially when he had awakened in the middle of the night and he had found her, resting on his chest, her face innocence of a child. But he wasn’t going to push too hard on the accelerator, he would have given her time, now that he had made a significant first step. The street to convince her that he was really interested in her as a person (not just physically), it was still very difficult and tortuous.

Yet only hours after he finds himself again back to square one.

-Where are you?- random question doesn’t seem to have any immediate effect. -Garcia?- she finally turns to him and seems to sense his presence. But she isn’t going to say anything. How she can? She has now admitted herself to be attracted to him, but what happened last night was just a lucky… case, a convergence of situations, definitely not something that will be repeated in the future. With the idea of being forced to spend the evening together, because there was a serial killer on the loose, the distorted thinking that she could become one of the victims… this must somehow have him excited, driven him to do what he did. But it was only a moment, a way to stress that they were still alive, that everything was still possible. But she couldn’t tell him, because she wouldn’t have been able to mask the fact that for her, their meeting wasn’t just sex. -Hey, it’s almost time to go to work. Criminals don’t wait!- he tries a joke that not obtain any reaction in woman. Now he really starts to worry. But when at last their eyes meet, everything becomes terribly clear. -Yet. Tell me I’m wrong, Penelope.- while he talking his tone increases the intensity. -Tell me that you aren’t again convinced that yesterday I was just… caught with the situation.- but she doesn’t respond, and a slight furrow starts to dig between them.

02/13/17

A year after that groove has become a chasm. They continued to work together, as if nothing had happened; a few months after, they start again to exchange jokes in the presence of others; but unlike previous times, there was much more behind, than some expressions two-way. It was as if each blamed the other for what had happened between them. Because in the meantime, the feelings that were unripe, have developed, settling in their souls. And taking with this resentment and regret.

The killer of roses, as the press had dubbed the unsub, which kills during the period close to Valentine’s Day and for the rest of the year will become off the grid, was still active. On February 15 the previous year Penelope and Luke had been welcomed by the dark looks of their colleagues. The name of another woman that night had been added to an already too long list. But she hadn’t been a total stranger. She was a childhood friend of Emily. The chief of the BAU had decided that there wouldn’t be another. And she was prepared to keep this promise at any cost.

To the point that she pushes JJ to give an interview, where she threw a challenge to the killer. And someone didn’t like it.

Garcia winces when she hears someone reach her behind shoulders. She was re-reading for the umpteenth time the note she had received. Like the others, it was signed cryptically. But today it contained one more particular: he tells her to wait for him the next day in the waiting room that preceded the entrance to the main offices of the heads of various departments of the FBI. She had suspected from the beginning that he was one of them, indeed, she had even hoped that could be Luke… but that wasn’t his style and basically it was better that way. She had to find a way to forget. It had been just a damn night; there had been no promises or exchange of important phrases. So why she hated him so deeply? Why a year had passed, and she couldn’t overcome it?

-Look that, we are just waiting for you…- the man was able to give only a sidelong glance at the narrow cardboard between the long fingers of the technician, remaining a bit too long staring her. But he doesn’t have enough elements to make an educated guess. Although, judging by this perfume… it’s certainly something private and … gallant. And it bothers him, a lot. Especially because before entering into Penelope’s bunker, he lingered a few minutes behind the door, hearing her talk to herself. And in this case, he understood every syllable uttered by her full lips. She believes that the type of the cards, damn if I catch you, you’re dead, is also in charge of the flowers she received during all this week… chocolates… books… everything that I gave her, accompanying each gift with a phrase (engraved on each one and inseparable from it) that I hoped would show her who was the “handler”, the “sender.” But I just made sure that the type of the cards earned more points. And I can’t even say anything, because that is going to make me look like an idiot.

-Luke? Now you’re the one lost on moon.- she chuckles slightly. She adores make fun of him and she doesn’t do anything to hide it. When he lifts his head, as always, their eyes chain up, and in those brief moments they confess million secrets, and, as Bukowski said, they make love with eyes. It’s weird how easy it’s to forget that he knows everything, that he has seen her naked in every possible way implied from the term. It’s absurd how easy it’s to continue this farce rather than admit they were wrong.

-Someone has perhaps a secret admirer?- he dares to ask, carefully watching how she arranged the different flowers (why you not go to do a damn search on the internet on their precise meaning?) and as one of the books he gave her, is open in the middle on the table. The blonde raises her eyes, annoyed (because he has no right to ask her about her private life) and yet flattered by his jealousy (because this could mean that perhaps he still feels a little something for her).

-If it was, it’s not your business.- he comes dangerously close, as he had hardly done in recent months. Because kissing her wouldn’t lead to any result, except to meet again in the horizontal position. And once it wasn’t enough, in fact, it has done more harm than good. -I know you think I can’t be worthy of receiving attention from a man, but you’re not always right.- she says it not because she believes seriously (the past year is at least served to find more self-confidence and begin to truly love herself, with or without glitter), but because she wants to force him to contradict her. With the corner of eye, she sees his hands tight a fist, the veins of his muscular arms stand out along with the muscles tense. He bends a little toward her, and, as it happens during accidents, she doesn’t seem to be able to move around and avoid catastrophe.

-I never said you didn’t deserve male attentions, but who or what tells you it’s a boy? Do you know him? You did identified him in some way?- he tries to try to make her understand that, notes aside, the man who has rekindled her smile these days, through various surprises that would show how much he had learned to know her seriously, was none other than the one she had in front of her. But Garcia doesn’t notice the love that he gives her. She just thinks that he demonstrates a kind of very childish jealousy, as if he doesn’t really want her, but at the same time he wishes that no one else feels something for her. She finally able to reactivate circulation of her blood and takes a step, leaving the door ajar. But Luke stops her before she can get out of it completely, grabbing her arm.

-Leave me! Did not you say the team was only waiting for me to expose the case? And then, let’s go. The others will be wondering if we weren’t sucked into a black hole.- but he isn’t going to do the right thing, or at least the most rational, reaching their colleagues and taking care of their work, another day pretending it’s nothing. He lets her go, but he turns towards the flowers, books and anything else that was donated by the “mysterious admirer.” She observes him in shock, unable to understand what the hell he’s doing.

-You might not be able to understand it?- he makes them all fall down in front of her. His dark eyes seem like coated with a thin veil. Might be tears, but it looks little likely. -May. You had tell JJ you liked science fiction novels of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, even more than the well known masterpieces of Sherlock Holmes.- shock increases more and more in Garcia, as she listening to him talk, associating something she said, maybe in passing, during the last year, each of the objects that she has received this week next to Valentine’s Day. -When you were a kid your favorite color was purple and you dreamed of having a horse.- also the puppet go to reach the pile at the foot of the blonde. When he silent, she remains for a moment to stare him, unable to pronounce the truth in a loud voice: it was him. Luke Alvez knew her better than herself. But… why?

-But… but… those notes… those words… why you didn’t write something that would make me realize that you were behind this?- the Latin sighs, frustrated.

-I never sent you any note.- a shiver runs through the body of the computer technician. Not for pleasure, but of sheer terror.

-So… who did write this?- just then the door opens and Rossi appears, the worried look that turns quickly in surprised and confused to see them like that, all those objects and flowers on the floor.

-Luke, Penelope, we were about to send out the search team…- no one laughs at his joke. -What the hell happened here inside?- it doesn’t take a profiler to note that both are blushing and launch murderous glances at each other. -Where’d this come from?- before he can make time to talk, the man is preceded by Garcia.

-I have a secret admirer. I was arranging this mess, when Luke came to warn me that the meeting was about to begin, and… we clashed. He was giving me a hand to collect everything.- the explanation given is credible enough, but Dave feels that doesn’t properly correspond to the truth. Before entering he felt them shouting each other and neither of them was bent or it was going to resetting… But he decides to overlook. They have already lost too much time. The blonde throws a sharp look at Luke, who wonders why she wanted to cover him, and if he has to positively interpret this attitude or rather the exact opposite. At the end he gives up and follows the other two down the hall to the meeting room. He tries to ignore it, but it’s impossible not to notice the mischievous look of JJ, the confusion of Reid, doubts painted on the faces of the rest of the agents.

Emily rolls her eyes and finally begins to expose the case that everyone knows very well -The last victim was Sasha Ivanova . And I emphasize “last.” As I said a year ago, there haven’t to be others. We have to catch the unsub. We have had more than ten years to take him, he was being free to do what he wanted. It’s time somebody ruins his plans.- anger in her eyes is evident and it’s also transmitted in the way she holding the remote control. -But I have not called you here to reiterate the obvious. There is news.- Luke subconsciously search for Penelope’s eyes and her hand (but not implement his own thoughts). -Chicago police found some interesting details…. Each of the victims under their jurisdiction had received “gifts” from a secret admirer, in the week before the murder.- after the last sentence also Rossi stares Garcia, who looks toward her shoes, hoping to disappear.

-But especially, they found some notes. The hand that had written them is the same in all cases.- now Agent Alvez feels really fear, fear for this woman, so damn stubborn that she would be willing to get kidnapped in order not to let people know that he is the author of the gifts she has received… but not the notes. And she is willing to risk, in order to prove that she has reason: she isn’t a type that someone might abducting, consequently she runs no risk.

-Garcia, can we talk for a moment face-to-face?- the woman takes a second too long to get up. Luke would follow them, but he doesn’t know what excuse to adopt. -All those gifts that I saw in your room… there were some notes to accompany them?- she doesn’t know what to say. Betraying Luke? Or rather betray herself, because what David will think, when he’ll know that she lied about something like that?

Left in the meeting room, Luke can’t concentrate on what his colleagues are saying. Conversations come to his brain as muted, as if he had cotton in his ears or was in a soap bubble. He can’t think of anything other than what they are saying? And the answer comes soon enough. The oldest agent returns alone. Things get worse than he expected.

-What’s going on, Dave?- Emily finally gives voice to what everyone is wondering.

-Penelope received very similar gifts to those you have just described a moment ago.- everyone except Luke, open their astonished eyes. -And even the famous notes. No need for a graphologist for sentencing that were written by the same person.- JJ launches a desperate look toward Reid.

-What? Why she doesn’t told us about it? And where is she?- the young genius puts his arm around the blonde, now in tears. Tara stays more composed, but she is equally worried.

-She is in my office. Valentine’s Day is tomorrow, and we don’t know when the unsub will hit. Just finished here, I’ll accompany her in the secret areas of the FBI for Witness Protection.- the ex-ranger immediately guess the future: he not see her again for who knows how long, if not forever. It’s not an acceptable perspective. But even the idea that she can seriously become the next victim of the killer of roses. If only she would leave herself to protect by me! He has before him an important choice: are more important his own selfish needs or the safety of the computer technician?

-We can’t even greet her?-  no one could answer negatively the desperate request of the blonde of the FBI. The oldest in the room nods his head and everybody make their way to his office. Luke last, lost in his thought. I can’t let her go. I can’t lose her. Rossi knocks with two shots, then he pauses, and he knocks other three times. The door opens, and Penelope appears that tries to hold back tears, with poor results. The impulse to rush to comfort her is strong, more than any other he has had at this year’s “separation” and abstinence, to kiss her or hold her so their bodies again converging. But yet he resists, with the last of patience grains he’s got. In the room they are eight of them, but, as one of the classic cliché, it’s just them in there. Their eyes are fixed, inseparable, they are seemingly oblivious to what is happening around; they carry on one conversation parallel to the verbal one. She is pleading him not to do what he thinks, and he, in turn, he’s apologizing because he can’t perform what she asks.

-Penelope… Why didn’t you tell us anything?- the women of the team surround their friend, partially interrupting the visual contact between the two. It’s the leader who speaks, while JJ strives not to cry in turn. She thinks of the day that saved her life, shooting point-blank at her attempted assassin. You do whatever it takes to protect your family.

-I… I didn’t think it had to do with the case. I was seeing one of the security officers of the first-floor and… I thought he was just very shy. - Luke feels a sharp pain in his chest at this revelation. But she is saying the truth, or it’s just a way to escape from him?

-No, not again. This time I’ll not allow to happen what happened with Battle.- the brunette says resolutely. Now Tara, Stephen, not to mention the agent Alvez, are even more confused. Meanwhile, the self-control of the latter is going more and more going to hell. -A policeman with murderess hero syndrome…- Prentiss begins to explain, but she is blocked by their own victim-subject of the story.

-I know that you will do everything to stop it.- she glances her very clear. Don’t speak of this matter. She doesn’t want him to know. She doesn’t want he knows this part of her life, this is connecting directly to a person and a series of misunderstandings that led where she is now. It doesn’t matter that for this man (damned the day when Hotch asked him to work with the BAU!) she now feels a much stronger feeling of confusion than a year earlier.

-I hate having to be a spoilsport, but… we have to go.- Rossi changes the subject. Luke observes Penelope, the woman for whom he feels more than he wanted (because this has greatly complicated his life) taking her own bag. He decided that this time he’ll not let her go away, like that day nearly a year ago.

-Wait! I have something to say.- everyone turns toward him. Garcia silently shouts him to stop. We can go on like this. We can pretend that nothing happened. Only you and me, know that. -I’m sorry. I gave her those things. Not the unsub. Except for the notes.- he adds bitterly. He explicitly turns to her and everyone understand the implications at stake. JJ wonders how it’s possible that she not noticed what had happened between her best friend, godmother of her children, and the Newbie. Sure, there were some incidents that had given her to think about, like when he played with the remote control in the meeting room and he had taken time considerable to pass it at her. Not to mention the countless times she had caught him staring at her. Yet she didn’t connect the dots. What stupid! -I’m sorry, Penelope. I know you didn’t want others to know, but I can’t allow you to finish in the witness protection program and disappear forever… just because I’m unable to deal with the complexity of the feelings that you arouses in me.- behold, he had said this. Now there’s no going back. Now everybody knows, including her. She stares him even more astonished than before, if possible.

-This doesn’t change anything, however.- the pure wisdom of Rossi intrudes, he’s not just able to realize that his kitten has a true lover, willing to do anything for her, even humiliate publicly himself or expose himself to rejection. -The writing matches perfectly, meaning that Garcia is still among the potential victims of the killer of roses.- the dark man nods, but he still seems to have something to say. Also, because all the others are still paralyzed by the news.

-I’m aware that she is still in danger, but… I would like to be able to contribute to her security, if you allow me… I participated in several operations of the witness protection program. I know how it works. And if the killer is clever enough, no protection is enough. I also feel that Garcia was chosen for a reason. Her belonging to the team.- finally someone seems to be able to recover.

-I understand what you want to mean. With this press conference, Prentiss has virtually challenged the unsub. Or in any case, it’s what seemed to him.- Reid asserts, while his face assumes the classic thinker’s poses.

-But then why he hasn’t hooked me up?- the chief asks.

-Because Garcia was … the woman most low-risk.- saying this, he knows he hurts her. But it’s better an ugly truth than a pretty lie, but with little lasting and more harmful effects in the long run. -You, Emily, live with your boyfriend… JJ has a whole family thinking about her, while Tara has returned to live with her father and brother… Penelope is simply the only woman in BAU… lonely.- and adding this, he transmits the idea that it’s her fault. It was mainly her stubbornness and her belief that he can’t absolutely like her, what had truncated any possibility of a serious development between them, a year earlier. And he was too confused at the time of their past, to prevent her from doing that bullshit.

-I’m fear you’re right, Luke.- the Italian admits. -And then, what is your proposal?- if he could say exactly what he thinks! Go to my house, make her a special dinner, talk, talk for hours, explain and ask for explanations. Try to find a way to make her understand how difficult it was this long year, because her coldness has hurt me, how I wanted to hold her, even by force, and only tell her I’m sorry, I’m very confused, but not enough to let you go away. How I wanted to try the feeling of having her lips fused with my own, and the courage to ask her if she, too, at least once, maybe before going to sleep, she felt that loneliness hug her, hold her in a vise that is neither liberating nor consoling. And then try to convince her that I’m able to protect her, I can do it, I’ll always be here, whenever she needs it. That I know her more than she would like, but certainly not as much as I would like. That it wasn’t just sex, even that night. And finally, that I haven’t been here for many years of her life (certainly not my fault); but I’m here now.

-I think that if the unsub discovered that she is no longer alone- not all notice the choice of words, the use of present (although hypothetical) which indicates that what follows this verb corresponds to a fact existing and not an uncertain possibility (what really is, in this case) -he’ll change the target. And though this would mean that another woman would run the risk of being killed… I feel I can be partly selfish, this time.- and the sense of his theory is more readily apparent to all.

-You would pretend to be her boyfriend until we take him?- a break. -We may need days as years. This is no light commitment. Or maybe you want to make a back and forth around the time of Valentine’s Day, doing the exact opposite of many males that not want to buy a gift for their lovers and fulfill the duty imposed on them by the capitalist society we live in?- it seems that talking was Reid instead is Emily the one make fun of him affectionately. For Luke the idea of having to protect her for years has certainly not displayed as a burden. Everything is relative, depending on the perspective from which you look at things. As an old man who breaks a mirror: he’ll be happy to have yet seven years (of trouble).

-According to me, you hope, rather, that continue to pretend, Garcia forget what the truth is and fall into your arms!- JJ also helps to lighten the atmosphere. The idea that another woman could be killed tonight and that they will have to investigate her death, now doesn’t even brush them. Even profilers have the right to a little serenity.

02/15/18

He finds her exactly where he thought: standing in front of the monsters’ wall, that is, every unsub that they had captured over the years, since the unit had opened its doors, long before they worked on it, both she and him, or that they met. He vividly remembered the moment Emily had hung that picture, while she was crying, a prayer to her disappearance friend, she, that didn’t believe or didn’t want to believe in any kind of God. Even the woman at this moment in front of him, she had a giant tight in the throat, that day and although she wasn’t able to consume mourning, allowed him to console her, to lay his hands on her shoulders, to embrace her. And she let him shout at her, not wanting to go along her, this time, while repeating like a mantra, before the image of yet another tragic murdered woman, surrounded by rose buds - It should have been me, there. It should have been me. It was no less blurred in his memory the moment when he had called to tell her -It’s over.- and how they had made love, directly to her office, as soon as he got off the jet, exhausted and alone desiring to sleep indefinitely. And as he found the strength for a second round, but this time there hadn’t been a third. But the next morning she was still there, in his arms, and although she was very embarrassed and awkward, she had not tried to escape. She had preferred to hide her face on his skin, which had finally absorbed those tears for too long withheld (for the year they had lost, because she wasn’t been the victim), she had tried to disappear to merge with him. And then she had re-emerged from the abyss and the other side had found right this man, patient as always, determined as never before.

She feels his presence behind. If even she hadn’t recognized his walk or his scent, she hadn’t need to be a profiler, or put a motion detector in his cellphone, to identify the person who appeared behind her. She not turns to look at him.

-I seems absurd that has passed already almost a year. I realize that it’s a banality that doesn’t suit me, but sometimes it’s as if it happened yesterday, others days seem to me full years passed and much more often… it seems it never ended.- he didn’t say anything. He moves at her side, to look exactly the same direction of the woman. His arm around her shoulders and in that single gesture there are friendship, respect, love, understanding, desire, consolation. -And even more comical, or tragic, depending on how you look at it, it’s that I owe my happiness to a serial killer.- she turns completely to him. It’s not need to replicate anything. It’s like this were a conversation made thousands of times, a ritual. Purifying.

-Let’s go home.-

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