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sideblogforcrimpy-plus · 2 years

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Title: Shape of You

Words: 16,109m and it's a oneshot (idk how to chapters)

Rated: General, there’s no smut. Idk, teen and up (rlly not expecting under-teens to be reading CM fic tho)

You can find this on Ao3, by the way

Summary: Emily is house hunting while the BAU has an ongoing case. The house that she buys may or may not be haunted. Is haunted the right word? Probably not, but let's not dwell on the semantics. Also Emily is in lesbians with Penelope and tryna be cool about it.

Besties this one tuckered me out in the best of ways. Ignore typos, I'm making this post at after 6am after a full night of writing and editing. Thank.

Emily's house-hunting was made easier by the fact that their current case was close to home. At least, it was initially.

A man -going by the profile- was attacking young men in bars, and had been for some time. He seemed too advanced with the victims list they were given in the beginning. Too experienced, too precise. Seeing the number of likely linked cases go from single to double digits after running details of the attacks through the NCIC was horrifying, but not a surprise.

Then, after Garcia and Derek hunted a little more online they were able to find a small number of incidents at bars in what seemed the unsub's initial hunting grounds. These incidents felt an awful lot like the small spark preceding a wildfire.

And it was right there in their home state, under their noses.

You’d think that while dealing with the stress of a case like this, looking for a home as a prospective buyer would be a nice break.

You’d think.

Walking around the house, fingers trailing along benches, tables, and walls, Emily was once again unsure. She knew she wanted to own a house, to not have to deal with the pain of scheduling repairmen through landlords adverse to both repairs and timely replies on top of her own terrible schedule. To be able to have a cat and not worry if the next landlord would kick up a fuss, or whether or not she could find another place suitable for said hypothetical cat.

This house, like the others she had looked at, seemed to offer her what she wanted, but she was constantly unsure. What if she wound up despising it? What if after she bought it she felt less like a ship safely anchored and more a ship ran aground?

Every time she walked through a house with the thought of buying as a possibility, she was plagued with these thoughts. And every time she had called to make an offer after thinking maybe she could see herself living there, she'd been told someone else had done so already.

She was tired of it, and this apartment was aged in a comfortable way -it was far from the stark whites and beiges she grew up with.

It was like she could see little bits of the previous owner in it. The house was coming pre-furnished, with some of the prior owner's belongings actually still boxed up in the spare room. As she made another lap through the house, she pictured a kindly, doddering professor that chose comfort over fashion, and she liked it.

The carpet, and what hardwood flooring was exposed, was well treated but also well used; scuffed and worn from use over time, but carefully cleaned. Even with the wooden flooring, it looked polished somewhat recently.

There was a reading nook that seemed nice in theory, but she knew she wouldn't get much time to utilise it. The couch was one she could picture sinking into at the end of the day, the fabric old and soft with cushions that were plush and inviting.

The kitchen was the least used, by the look of it. The appliances were cheap but serviceable and looked mostly unused, whereas other features of the house looked carefully selected. The wooden countertop that would work wonderfully as one you could use as a cutting board and sand down -an expensive feature Rossi wanted to use immediately when she'd showed him the listing- hardly had a mark on it.

All this and the stash of takeaway menus slotted down the side of the cutlery draw made Emily smile; she wasn’t one for the kitchen, either.

She concluded that that old house felt homely in comparison to the one she was raised in. It felt lived in and loved, warm and welcoming.

As a result, Emily put in an offer before she’d even left the house; if there was no time to think about it, then there was no time for her doubts to belay her. Regret started digging its claws in her the moment she sat in her car, the windows of the apartment above her looking like they were frowning down at her with the blinds half closed as they were. She debated going back in, likely interrupting the real estate agent’s call to the owner, but a text came in about a new case, so she hesitantly pulled out of the park and got herself into work mode.

Buying a house as a spur of the moment thing couldn’t really be done, given all the forms needing processing, finance information going back and forth, and an agreed upon settlement date among other things.

But Emily thought this was pretty close to it.

The search into their unsub regarding the attacks at bars and clubs had slowed down; it appeared the heat on the unsub after interstate attacks were linked and the FBI being brought in had halted the killings. It meant they were back to predominantly doing consults individually while the team as a whole worked on piecing together what they could on what was now their ‘main’ case.

While the reprieve was certainly good for those who would have been victims, it meant there was no new evidence coming in. It also meant that Emily had less distractions when it came to her potential new home.

Undecided on whether it was too long or short of a wait to hear the news after going through the motions in the following months, Emily got a call while boarding the jet that settlement had gone through, and she could pick up the keys whenever she had the time to from the real estate office. Conveniently, the peppy receptionist advised, it was only five minutes by train from her wonderful new home.

The joy she’d been told about when hearing settlement has gone through felt an awful lot like the dreadful familiarity of anxiety and regret, she found.

Coming home to an apartment half unpacked wasn’t Emily’s ideal way of decompressing after a frustrating day’s work, but at least she could leave it a bit messy with no repercussions in the form of upcoming rental inspections.

Their ‘main case’ unsub had recently started back up again, but with previously unseen fervour; it seems holding back as long as they did was a struggle, and they were making up lost time in the form of brutality and frequency.

Adding to that the anger of precincts not willing to share with the FBI now that they were linking more attacks across cities and everybody was getting quite fed up.

Emily crumpled up the packaging of the biscuits she’d just finished off, and dragged her feet on the way to the kitchen. She opened the cupboard beneath the sink and threw the rubbish in, frowning when she heard it hit the bottom of the cupboard instead of the bin.

“What the hell?” The open cupboard revealed an empty, bin-sized gap, and she tapped her fingers on the counter as she tried to recall what happened.

“Must have washed it.” She mumbled under her breath, picking up the rubbish and moving to check the laundry. She stopped, however, when she saw it beneath the bench on the side of the living room, certainly not where she’d normally leave it.

She hesitated, lifting a hand to rub at her collarbone while her eyes cast about the room. They settled on a sturdy torch with a long, heavy handle. She couldn’t remember how it came into her possession, but she was suddenly thankful for it. Wielding it more like a bat than a torch, she walked around the house in a self-conscious way. If an intruder had been in here, the last thing they’d likely do is move her bin, so it felt a little ridiculous. All the same, the tense rigidity of her shoulders eased away as she circled back to the kitchen.

Angrily, and a little embarrassed despite there not being an audience, she shoved the bin beneath the sink again and decided she’d had enough of today. Besides, Penelope had gifted her beautifully soft bedding for a housewarming gift and she was eager to sleep in them.

“So you moved it, forgot, and then felt like you had to snoop around your own house?” Penelope’s grin was a balm to Emily’s embarrassment, even though it was because Emily was telling her how stupid she’d acted.

“Yeah, I... I guess? I mean, how else could it have happened?” Emily had pilfered a spare office chair, which she was now spinning in half circles on while the other woman clacked away at her keyboard.

“Well, everyone is tuckered out by this case, dearest, so a little forgetfulness is understandable. Although the image of you holding a nightstick while walking around your house is what I’ll picture next time the sandman mistreats me with bad dreams.” At Emily’s exaggerated sigh, the colourfully dressed woman beamed, an equally bright laugh making Emily force back a smile.

“My protector and my nightlight, what more could I want in a woman?” At this, Emily bit her tongue and jutted her chin in the direction of the analyst’s screens.

“Shouldn’t you be focusing on those?”

“Shouldn’t you be at the precinct doing some profiling and investigating magic so you have an excuse to call me and give me things to research?” Emily conceded, nodding her head.

“Yeah, maybe.”

While she was yet to host a house-warming party, Emily eased the pressure of holding one by planning to have Penelope over while Derek was there to help her fix some issues.

More accurately, she’d complained about leaky taps making it hard for her to sleep until Derek offered to come over and fix them. He’d tried giving her tips on what to do at first, but when he started talking about needing ‘only’ a flat-headed screwdriver and a spanner, she raised her brows.

“Derek, I’m the daughter of an ambassador. I’m flattered you think I’m capable, but I’m really not.”

He’d laughed, waving a dismissive hand. “Alright, princess, I’ll come help you out this weekend.”

“My knight in shining armour,” she rolled her eyes, “what would I do without you?”

“Lose your mind over a leaky tap, is my guess.”

She flicked a hand in his direction, shaking her head as she did. He was insufferable sometimes. He couldn’t take offence at her sarcasm on account of the obvious smile she was sporting.

Before Derek was able to come over, Emily had started losing her mind over a number of other small things. Truthfully, her regret had given way to joy at the house; it really did feel like a home instead of a house.

But.

There were just little things that caused hesitation, and maybe a little fear.

Thursday night, Penelope had decided to come over and check out the house. She used the excuse of wanting to be the first to see it, before even Derek that coming weekend. But it was Emily’s unease; the mostly but not entirely true smile she gave when talking about the house, that had prompted the self-invite.

Emily was still getting used to the house, occasionally misremembering where she placed the washcloth for the dishes, going to throw something in the bin and almost dropping it on the floor when the bin was by the darn bench again instead, or even pushing open windows she hadn't recalled closing to begin with. Maybe she should have adjusted to the house already, but it’s not like she was actually able to spend a lot of time there given their work.

After a tour of the house, Penny had immediately claimed the reading nook; she was so excited by Emily having one she turned down the more comfortable couch for the novelty. Emily wouldn’t fight it, because it meant she could lay down across the length of the couch without putting Penelope out of a choice seating spot.

With her eyes closed and arms crossed on her chest, she spoke to Penelope about it, about the feeling of someone, or something, moving things while she wasn’t looking. Subtly messing with her stuff but not enough for it to be a full threat.

Penny mentioned she might have a ghost on her hands. The two laughed, but the teasing 'don't offend the dearly departed, my dear' Penny said before she left the house that evening sat uncomfortably in her chest.

Those words began stewing in the back of her mind; Penelope's ghost comment. Just quietly, as Emily dealt with true horrors and demons in her line of work, and didn't believe in ghosts, did she?

Did she?

Fear she tried to bat away slowly gripped her as she became less sure of her convictions regarding those no longer of the living.

“See? I told you, changing a washer takes nothin’.” Derek was washing his hands, and when he turned off the tap, he pointedly listened out for a drip that was no longer there. “Except these and a little elbow grease, I guess,” he gestured to the two tools he brought.

Penelope chimed in, “and a new washer.”

“And a new washer, yes.” Emily handed him a cup of coffee, and he dried his hands on his pants before taking it gratefully.

“Anything else troubling you about the house? Might as well offer more of my services since I’m already here.”

“What isn’t troubling me?” The words were more for her; a thought spoken aloud more so than an actual response. Still, Derek raised a brow.

“Bought more of a fixer-upper than you bargained for, Prentiss?”

“No, not that. It’s nothing. Well, actually, I did want to ask you about an exhaust fan in the bathroom?”

He stared at her for a moment, and in that moment she wished he wasn’t so good at his job as a profiler. “Emily. Is there something more on your mind than the exhaust fan?”

She squirmed, catching her bottom lip between her teeth as she debated telling him. He pulled the trick of staying quiet, patiently waiting for her to fill the growing silence.

“Promise you won’t laugh at me?” She felt so much more exposed sharing this with Derek than she did Penelope, but her discomfort was eased when Penelope nodded encouragingly.

There was a smile in his eyes when she described walking around the house with the light/nightstick, and he gave it an approving glance when she showed him. But he was concerned she felt unsafe in her own home.

“Show me your carbon monoxide detector.”

“My what?”

He was appalled.

While she was ushering her two guests out her front door, Derek was repeating himself about her newly installed CO detector.

“And remember that it can take a few hours for it to go off depending on the buildup. I installed a couple just to be safe. If they go off, call me again. If they don’t go off…”

Penelope patted his cheek before turning to Emily.

“If they don’t go off, invite us back next weekend so our hunk of delicious and protective muscle can install security cameras instead.”

“Guys, really thank you. Although I can’t see how someone would be getting into my apartment for this. Maybe I’m just being really forgetful.” The words were weak, and the other two looked at her knowingly.

“We’re here to help. Or rather, he’s here to help,” Penelope looped her arm around Derek’s, leaning her head against him. “And I’m here for moral support and oogling.”

“Is oogling and house maintenance all I’m good for?”

“Who said I was oogling you, sweet thing?” The lascivious wink Penelope gave Emily would provide sufficient distraction for the brunette tonight.

“Wait, I’m doing this hard work and I’m not even being oogled?” Derek looked a little offended, and Emily shrugged before responding.

“Sucks to suck. Thanks for today guys, I mean it.” She shut the door to the two of them laughing, and she felt lighter than she had in weeks.

When the alarms didn’t go off later than night, or even in the following days, Emily didn’t know how to feel about it.

The bonus was that she didn’t have CO poisoning to worry about. The negative was that it meant she had some other, mysterious thing to worry about instead. One that didn’t have a clear solution.

She was tired of feeling afraid in her own house, though. Her fear grew to hold a sharper edge.

Now, when the soap dish moved to the other side of the bathroom sink, or the cutlery sorted itself into different compartments that she knew wasn't done by her own hand, she felt the same thrill of fear but it now featured a side of annoyance.

"This is my house now, you haunting creep. I'll put things where I want and they'll stay there, you get me?"

She felt foolish, after her angry chastising, when an empty silence was her sole response. She gripped the bench, steeling herself and reaffirming she was the only person in this house, dead or alive, and she'd damn well act like it.

She might also, she thought, consider buying elsewhere.

Turning off the shower, Emily wondered if Derek really would come over again to install an exhaust fan in her bathroom. She’d never thought about them before outside of finding them noisy. Now though, she frowned at the thick fog of steam in the bathroom as echoes of ‘mould build-up’ in Derek’s voice bounced around her head. She hadn’t wanted to open the window as it’d let in bugs.

“Maybe I’ll get him to put in a fly screen while he’s here.” She stepped in front of the counter, an annoyed huff following her words when she saw she’d forgotten to bring in her clothes. The heat of the water seemed to have eased her muscles out of the day’s aches, and she rolled her shoulders while walking out to her closet.

Pyjamas on, she walked into the kitchen to turn on the kettle for a tea before circling back to the ensuite, then suddenly clutched the towel she meant to hang up to her chest when she pushed open the door.

GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, SQUATTER

She pulled the door shut with a slam, beginning to push a chair beneath the handle to hold it closed before she remembered it opened in the wrong direction for that.

Emily awoke after not nearly enough sleep, but was still excited for a day off. Not because she had plans of going out, but staying in. She’d said she needed to unpack and sort out the house still, and while that was true, she had no intentions of unpacking on her first day off.

After opening the fridge, she let out a groan. There were no left-overs she could have for breakfast, and she’d be mad about it if the takeout last night hadn’t been so good.

Well, she could still be a little mad about it.

Turning to pick up her keys from the end of the bunch, she stopped in her tracks when she saw the takeout container -rinsed, now- sitting atop the recycling that had built up. Bewildering her further, was the little sticky note prominently left on the top.

WHILE A LOT OF PLASTIC ISN’T RECYCLABLE, THIS ONE IS. I’LL THANK YOU IN ADVANCE FOR DISPOSING OF THINGS PROPERLY GOING FORWARD.

She let out a surprised, half scared laugh, not much more than a glorified huff of air. Then, she laughed a bit more forcefully, a wave of indignance rolling over the building fear she could feel welling up in her chest.

“I’m going crazy. That’s what this is. I have carbon monoxide poisoning and the detectors missed it. Get out of my house!” She yelled the last bit, making herself jump at the vehemence of it.

“Actually, I was here first. You’re the intruder.”

She let out a shriek, stepping back to press her back against the fridge as she looked wildly around the space before her, needing a solid surface at her back to assuage at least a little bit of fear.

“Show yourself!”

“Your anger at your inability to see what’s before you shouldn’t be directed at me.”

“This is my house! I bought it, I’m paying a mortgage.”

“You got me there.” There was a resigned sigh, and squinting, Emily thought she could see the outline of a man on the other side of the kitchen bench. The longer she looked, the more defined he became. His hands were clasped before him, and he was looking down at them with a frown. She couldn’t quite see the details of him, the intricacies that would make him identifiable, but she could see enough to ensure she was thoroughly scared.

So scared that the world got quite dark around the edges, and she fell to the floor in a graceless heap.

“Emily! Emily, it’s okay! It’s okay! We’ll check the carbon monoxide detectors, and we’ll sage the house! We could burn some candles, spread some good intent, and I will be there with you every step of the way!” Emily was seated on the arm of Penelope’s couch, elbow resting on her crossed legs so her arm was propped up and allowing her to anxiously bite her thumbnail in comfort.

“Garcia, I-I saw him. Not all of him, or clear features, but I saw a strange, transparent man in my kitchen. I can’t go to work like this! Oh, I can’t go back there.”

“My beautiful badass, you have to go back there at some point. Even if you move, you have to pack, and move the packed boxes. An option that I fully support, but…”

“There’s a ‘but’ here?”

“But, did he have bad intentions? Did he feel evil?”

Emily’s hand dropped enough for Penelope to see her mouth fall open a bit, confusion creasing the brunette’s brows.

“He called me an intruder!” Her indignance was back.

“Well, I mean, maybe he,” she whispered, leaning in like she was sharing a dark secret. ”Maybe he died there.”

“Great!” Emily threw up her hands, “so I’ve got a dead man’s apartment and he’s mad about it? What am I supposed to do with that?” Penelope moved to stand beside her, rubbing the woman’s shoulders before wrapping her up in a comforting hug.

Penelope had sworn to secrecy; she was absolutely forbidden from telling Derek they were walking around her house, waving incense and thinking good yet uninviting thoughts for her unplanned roommate.

“Penelope, this is just making me sneeze.” She walked into the main bedroom where Penelope had wandered, talking still as she joined the other woman in the ensuite. “I dropped ash on the carpet, and I- Penelope?”

“Hey, Em. Uh, did you happen to write a little note for me about incense burning? You could have told me if you were that uncomfortable with it. I mean, I appreciate the non-combative approach, but it’s not your style.” Despite the joke in Penelope’s words, the tone was forced and brittle. Emily stepped up beside her, careful to hold the incense away, and bent to see a note on the counter.

WHILE OFFICIALS WITH THE U.S. FIRE ADMINISTRATION DON’T HAVE STATISTICS ON HOW MANY FIRE DEATHS ARE ATTRIBUTED TO THE BURNING OF INCENSE, THEY’VE SAID BURNING INCENSE IS VERY SIMILAR TO BURNING CANDLES, A PRACTICE THAT CAUSES ABOUT 18,000 FIRES A YEAR IN THE UNITED STATES.

Emily and Pen were now both scared, but the note wasn’t threatening, and was also exactly what Emily would expect from a doddering old professor

Penelope nodded, as if affirming her thoughts in her head before sharing them with Emily. “See? He’s just protecting his- Your! Yours and his? House? Plus, also, he’s sharing fun facts!”

“Fun facts?” Emily picked up the note, tone taking on shrill notes and disbelief shaping her face as she pointedly shook the note in her hands. She did it exaggeratedly on purpose, to hide the unwilling, fear-borne shaking already there. “Fun facts from the U.S. Fire Administration about house fires?”

Penelope’s unwillingness to make eye-contact did nothing to help Emily, but she appreciated the effort.

Emily did start looking for a new house, but that dissatisfaction from the first time she was looking seemed to be back tenfold. Still, she wasn’t stupid enough to fight a ghost for a house. She’d seen enough scary movies to see that it never panned out well.

Still, when she and Penelope were next alone, the conversation swayed back to her house. Penny was sat at her computer, and Emily was spinning in half circles again on her stolen chair.

“He hasn’t like, he’s not- you know?” Penelope flapped her hands helplessly, unwilling to word the question she wanted to ask.

“You mean he hasn’t gone full Amityville Horror on me?” Penelope cringed at the wording, but nodded. Emily heaved a sigh, shaking her head. “No. Or well, I mean, he has asked me to leave the house, but I haven’t been violently ill, and there’s no swarm of flies.”

“Okay, well, that’s a great start. Does he seem malevolent at all?”

Emily laced her fingers together, planting her feet firmly as she looked down at her hands on her lap. She frowned in thought, then tilted her head to look up at Penelope.

“Actually? He seemed sad. Annoyed, yes, but mostly sad. If I wasn’t so scared I think I would have felt bad for him.”

Penelope tapped her manicured nails on the desk’s edge, and Emily didn’t have a good feeling about her expression -she was planning something.

“Hear me out.” Penelope uncrossed her legs and scooted her chair over to be in front of Emily. Emily watched the movement, marvelling that Penny went through the effort of nailart on her toenails. It made sense for her though, and they matched the orange heels that sparkled as Penelope used her feet to pull her chair closer to Emily. “I’m not saying ‘let’s have a seance’ -we’re not qualified for that even if I were saying that. But I am saying, why don’t the two of us try and talk to the guy?”

Emily couldn’t keep the scepticism off of her face, and Penelope clasped Emily’s hands in her own and gave them a comforting squeeze.

Emily ran her tongue over her teeth, giving herself a moment to think before firmly shooting the idea down. As she took a breath to respond, Penelope cut in again.

“Have you tried talking with him yet? Maybe he doesn’t-” she looked around like they weren’t already alone in her office, leaning in as she spoke quieter. “What if he doesn’t know that he’s dead?” Emily was a little lost, because Penelope was close enough to kiss right now, and it made the second half of what she was saying almost unimportant by comparison. At least for a moment.

In the end, she and Penelope had planned to try and have a chat with not Casper, the maybe not unfriendly ghost.

God, she was going to die like the girls in every scary movie she’d ever seen, but she couldn’t say no to an earnest Penelope.

Penelope had taken Emily’s hand, and the two of them were seated on Emily’s couch. She smoothed her thumb over Penny’s skin before breaking the quiet.

“Penelope,” Emily was hesitant to continue, and sheepishly kept her gaze from the other woman.

Penelope squinted at her tone, jutting her chin out. “I know my track record with secret keeping is spotty,” she dutifully ignored Emily’s small smile, “but I really didn’t tell anyone about this. Not that it was easy because this is straight up crazy movie stuff, but also…” She pushed up her glasses, and Emily didn’t fail to take note of the slight colouring of Penelope’s cheeks and neck. “Also, this feels like an us thing.” She paused, as if she was going to say more, but just squeezed Emily’s hand a moment instead as she looked away.

Emily nodded, bumping her shoulder to Penny’s in thanks. “So, how do we do this?”

Penelope laughed, “I would know this why?”

Emily shoved her shoulder then, scoffing. “This was your idea!”

“And this is your ghost! You decide!”

“It’s rude to talk about someone like they’re not there.” The man’s voice cleared their smiles away, their grip on each other’s hands tightening. “Also, I don’t think I’m a ghost.”

Despite her reservations, Emily squinted, leaning forward to peer at the armchair across the coffee table. Once more, the more she looked for him the more visible he became. Like she was willing him into sight.

She wanted to look at Penelope, to check on her, but she was worried if she looked away, he’d disappear again. Sure she could see him, but it was more like a suggestion of him. “Uh, hi. I’m Emily.”

The words felt stupid to say, but how else are you meant to introduce yourself to a possible ghost in your house? No horror movie she’d seen had the ghost meet the new inhabitants like a roommate interview, so she had nothing to guide her.

Not that a horror movie should be a guide, and if it were, she should have moved already.

He seemed startled, and while she was sure that if she reached over that her hand would go right through him, he looked about ready to cry.

“Hi, I-I’m Spencer.” His breaths seemed shaky, his tone hopeful. “You can actually- you can see me? Hear me? Properly this time?”

Try as she might to keep that healthy fear around -fear keeps you alert and alive- he looked so much like victims she talks to at work that she smiled comfortingly at him, nodding. “Yeah, yeah I can see you. Spencer, who are you?”

He laughed in disbelief, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth. Emily felt Penelope lean forward, the woman beside her bringing their linked hands up to hug them to her chest.

Penelope spoke while it seemed Spencer was trying to get control of his emotions. “Sweetheart, how long have you been alone like this for?”

He shook his head in response, a few false starts with his words before he could properly respond. “I don’t know. I-I just,” he sighed, shrugging. He wiped at his eyes, lips pressed together while he thought. “I woke up, I think, some time ago. And- and I couldn’t-.” He leaned forward, leg bouncing as he rubbed his hands together.

It looked like thinking of how he got the way he did was stressing him out, so Emily tried to change the subject at least a little. She didn’t think she could handle a stressed-out maybe-ghost.

“However this happened, and however long ago it happened, it seems like we’re cohabitating now.”

He nodded, frowning a little. “Guess you can’t really give up your house for a- a spectre.”

Emily smiled, the kind of smile you give when something’s not funny, or even good, but you can’t do much else. “No, I don’t really think I can.”

“If it weren’t possibly detrimental to your very important job, your ability to sleep through alarms would be impressive.” Emily rolled her eyes and she leaned against the counter, the coffee machine working up the courage to even heat up, it seemed.

“Look, I didn’t get much sleep, alright? And it’s because of that very important job. Related topic, why did you get such a shit coffee machine?”

He scoffed. “I looked at the reviews online and watched videos about different machines, and this one seemed the best for my needs. There’s no waste from coffee pods, it doesn’t burn the coffee, and all the components are machine washable.”

Emily narrowed her eyes at him, not wanting to admit that this machine did indeed make some of the best coffee she’d had in a long time. “You know, it’s things like that, and your decor, that make me think you’re an old man.”

She thought she saw him press his lips together to hide a smile, shaking his head. “Researching expensive appliances to ensure they’ll give me what I want isn’t an old person thing. Surely.”

Emily held up a hand, frowning. “Hold on a minute; there’s not a computer here. Unless it’s packed away in the spare room?”

Spencer shook his head, a look of distaste seeming coming over him. Or maybe it was more of a feeling she picked up on. “No, I don’t have one.”

“You researched coffee machines on your phone?” While technically google became available on phones last year, she didn’t know anyone comfortably using it for research yet.

His distaste seemed to grow stronger, now mixed in with what Emily thought was actual disgust with hints of confusion. “What? No. I went to the library and used their computers. Phones can do that?”

Emily laughed, getting her mug from the coffee machine and holding it between her cold hands. “You really are an old guy, huh.”

He looked away, petulant. “No I’m not.”

“Cute. For an old guy.” She grinned at him on her way to her bedroom, getting ready for work with Spencer’s complaints about technology keeping her company.

She thinks she can believe him. He sounds young, younger than her even. But the house, his opinions on technology, and the brains on him? God, he could be Gideon’s age.

Hopefully, she’d be able to properly see him someday, rather than an almost tangible ghost.

Emily was sitting on the kitchen bench, the phone on loudspeaker beside her as she flipped through the fast-food menus she’d lifted from the cutlery drawer. They weren’t hers, but she didn’t think Spencer would mind her thumbing through them.

“Look, I’m not thrilled to be talking about work when I’m already home, but since it’s you? I’ll overlook it.” She smiled down at the phone when Penelope laughed.

“I just wanted to let you know that you might have to fly out tomorrow! I can come and see Spencer while you’re gone -if you’re gone- and look after the house.”

“Sometimes I think you’re just coming over to see Spencer and not me. Keep this up and I’ll get pouty.”

Penelope seemed to be considering her response, so Emily took a moment to read the Indian takeout menu in her hands. She jumped in surprise when she felt one of the menus beneath it in her hand get tugged out, and she must have made some sort of sound, because Penelope seemed concerned.

“Emily? Are you alright?”

“What? Uh, yeah. I think Spencer’s giving me dinner recommendations.”

“So that’s how it is, hm? You have the one and only, picturesque Penelope on the phone, but you’d rather some old brainiac take you out to dinner?”

Emily laughed, and she’s pretty sure she heard affronted noise from Spencer. She flapped the menus in the direction she thinks Spencer is, meanwhile cooing at Penelope.

“Aw, come on. It’s not like that, baby.” Even though they were joking around, she got a thrill at saying the words. “You’re the only one for me, you know that.”

“And don’t you forget it, dollface.” The two laughed, and that thrilled rush kept Emily feeling light after their call despite the fact that their unsub seemed to have crossed the state lines again, and she might be one of the people leaving to go after him. The whole unit wouldn’t be going, because there was still a relatively new crime scene close to home.

“Are you two dating?” The words seemed small, like something fragile held in careful hands.

She took a moment to get her head in the right space for responding; this seemed delicate all of a sudden. “No. But can you keep a secret?”

“Not only am I confident in my ability to keep secrets normally, but remember I’m currently not really uh, able to talk to many others?”

Emily nodded. “Okay, point taken. We’re not dating, no. But I’d certainly like to. Why’s that?”

Silence answered her, but the more she peered into the space Spencer was, like before, the more visible he seemed to get. Not as much as he had previously, but there was a definite man-shape before her. Even with this limited sight, his shoulders seemed hunched. Burdened.

“Nothing. It’s just…”

“We’re both women?” She had a small smile. Once more, she seemed to feel his emotions rather than being able to parse them from an expression; hopeful yet troubled.

“Y-yeah. I mean, it’s not- well, it is common. The numbers are constantly changing, but the percentage of people identifying as things other than straight is growing based on more recent studies.”

“It is,” she tilted her head, friendly teasing in her tone, “you read that on the library computers?”

There was a sheepish laugh, and some of that troubled feeling seemed to bleed away. “Yeah, I did. I just. If you two started dating, I think I’d really like to see you happy like that.”

She felt the urge to hug him, and felt a pang of sadness upon realising that she may never be able to. Of course, if she’d thought about it earlier, she would have known that was the case from the beginning. When she started thinking of the fact that he might not feel any physical affection, friendly or more, she shook her head to clear it from her head.

“Thanks, I’d like that too. Changing to an equally important topic; takeout. Were you trying to tell me this place is better?”

Emily was laying on her back on the couch, and Spencer was sprawled over the armchair opposite her. It was late; she’d gotten back from work late, and had almost walked through Spencer in the kitchen. His corporealness seemed to depend on whether or not she was home for the most part, and how much they were interacting.

“Feel free to tell me to shut up, or mind my own business, but I have a question.” Emily had been debating on how much to ask Spencer. Was it invasive, or was it learning about a friend? Was Spencer friends with her because he wanted to be, or was it because he didn’t have much choice? Rather than continuing to overthink it, she figures she’d talk to the man himself.

“I’m not fond of how you’ve started, but yeah.”

She laughed. “Well, I wanted to ask about you. Like, when I can’t see you, are you still here? Or are you somewhere else?”

“I’m not too sure. Sometimes I’m here. But the times where I’m not,” he sighed. She could see that he was fiddling with his clothes, but didn’t know if it was with buttons or a tie. “It’s like when you’re almost asleep. And when I do come back? It’s like when something startles you from that almost sleep.”

She turned to lay on her side, facing him. “Can you always pick up things, or are you more like Patrick Swayze in Ghost?”

“The end half of that sentence means nothing to me.”

They were grinning at each other; they’d yet to find an intersection in their movie interests.

He continued. “But going by the first half of what you said? No. Mostly when you’re here, and you mention me, or you talk to me. Then I can uh, interact with stuff around me. While you’re not here, I can’t always.”

“Partial Swayze confirmed. But while I’m not here, you normally aren’t either?”

“No, not normally.”

Next time Emily was away from home, anytime she talked about Spencer with Penny, or held thoughts of him in her mind, she took note of the time. When she was finally able to go back home, she asked him about it.

She was startled that he remembered the exact time, to the second even, but it checked out.

Emily started thinking about Spencer as often as she could to ensure that he was able to be in their house.

Emily brought up Spencer’s inability to manifest himself with Penelope not long after. It was troubling her, and she wanted to find some sort of resolution.

“Well maybe if we’re both thinking of him, it’ll help?”

Emily smiled, humming in agreement. “Yeah, I think so. And maybe uh, I was also thinking of doing something for me, that might benefit him.”

Penelope smiled knowingly. “Oh? What, prey tell, are you scheming?”

“Firstly, I don’t scheme.” She tried to look offended, but Penny knew better. “And secondly, I was thinking I might finally get a cat. I wanted to get one after I bough-” She was cut off but an excited squeal, and knew she would get the confirmation she was seeking.

“I was going to offer that I could visit while you’re on cases -which I’m still happy to do- but yes you should adopt a gorgeous little friend!”

“I bet that you’ll wanna go and visit now, just for my little cat. But I do want to ask for Spencer’s input as well.”

“Oh I hope he says yes.” Emily took in a deep breath, a little worried he’d say no.

After a brief debate, filled with facts and also warnings of illnesses cats can get or transmit, and the dangers they pose and that are posed to them, Emily and Spencer agreed on getting a cat. One that was already litter trained, and that would be strictly indoors.

Spencer was excited about the idea of being present in the home more with an extra set of eyes on him, and Emily was elated about finally getting a cat.

Emily came home feeling horrid. They’d followed up on what turned out to be false leads all day, and Derek going undercover at clubs and bars wasn’t ending up useful either. Really, they needed someone like Spencer on the team, since he seemed to fit the unsub’s type better.

Now hold on a fucking minute.

Emily paced outside the doorway, not wanting to be this ruffled when she went inside. She and Spencer hadn’t talked about how he got into his current state since they first sat down for a conversation. He grew anxious and unsure back then, frazzled.

If she were to ask him about it now, it’d be like conducting an interview, like a full cognitive interview, with a victim. Suddenly, she was very sure that Spencer was linked to their case.

But she’d also seen the photos of the victim’s what felt like a hundred times and definitely none of them were Spencer.

She leaned against the door and pressed her fingers to her temples.

“I may not be able to leave the house, but I can feel you thinking so hard about me right now.” Spencer’s voice from the other side of the door startled a laugh out of her. She headed in then, expression carefully guarded.

“You can, huh?”

“Yeah. And thank you, for thinking of me more often. I’m in the house more, and I-, I like it.”

Her expression softened, and she set her bag down on the kitchen counter. “I’m glad, I got Penelope onto it as well.”

“I imagine Penelope’s to credit for my being here nearly every hour on the hour, during standard waking hours?”

Emily laughed, nodding. “Probably; I was wondering why she had an alarm going off so often.”

Emily felt a wave of gratefulness come from him, with a sure accompaniment of surprise, and she smiled at the shape of Spencer. “She’s really doing that just for me?”

“There’s not a lot our Penelope wouldn’t do for those she likes.”

The contentment coming from him soothed her anxieties about her sudden, but very late, realisation.

While she made her way to the fridge, sniffing out leftovers for an easy dinner, she called out to Spencer. “Maybe once I get time to get a cat, you won’t be so lonely in the house you’re present in.”

“Since I’m only really here when you two are thinking of me, it’s a little hard to feel lonely anymore.” Emily’s heart hurt. “But it would be nice to have something to do with my time other than pace around.”

Emily lifted her head in sudden surprise, and thoroughly hit it on the fridge since she’d been poking around in it for food. “What?” She rubbed at her head, cursing under her breath before continuing. “What do you mean? Can’t you, you know, interact with stuff sometimes? Since we’re thinking of you a lot and often?”

While she wasn’t looking at him, she knew what he’d be doing; that sheepish shrug. ‘I was inconvenienced but I didn’t want to tell you, so that you wouldn’t be inconvenienced either’.

She was going to bring him to the physical realm just so she could murder him for that.

“I feel like you’re thinking malicious things about me.”

“Don’t be silly.” She knew she didn’t sound convincing. It was too hard with her head hurting and her heart aching and she was so stupid.

“Spencer, have you just been wandering around the house, every hour on the hour, for days, without telling me that you couldn’t do anything?”

She turned then, to watch him tidy up the too often used takeout menus and placing them beside the too often empty fruit bowl.

She brought her hands together like she was going to pray -for the ability to slap a ghost going by her current thoughts- and pressed her fingers to her lips. After taking a deep, calming breath, she lowered her hands.

“Spencer, you’re an idiot. You’re a big brain, don’t get me wrong, but you’re an idiot.”

If she couldn’t feel that he was doing that shy little smile he does, he’d look insulted, she thought.

He tapped his fingers on the counter, the action noiseless. “I didn’t want to trouble you. It seemed trivial.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Permission to go through your boxes, Spence?”

“Permission granted?”

“With me, old man.” The nearly habitual ‘I’m not old’ followed her into the spare room, and she started pushing gently at the boxes in there until she found the heaviest one. “This one has your books in it, right?”

“Some of them, yeah. Why’s that?”

In answer, she opened the box and started pulling out the books in it, filling her arms with them before heading back out to the living room. “Is it that you can’t move anything, or that you can move little things, what’s the deal here? Because before I knew to think of you, you were shifting stuff around. And scaring the living daylights out of me, might I add.”

“You might add that, yeah.”

She’d flick his ear if she could.

He was grinning, she knew, when he added, “I can sort of, sometimes, move little things. My guess is that it’s based on how focused you are on me when you’re out of the house.”

“This would be easier if you weren’t allergic to technology, I think.” She started leaving the books around the house, covers opened and held that way by whatever she could find; a paperweight on one, remote on another, and on the coffee table she left multiple books open; she opened each one, placing the next on the pulled back cover to keep them all open.

After placing them around the house, she smiled at Spencer. It wasn’t much, but it would leave him with something to do, and meant he’d have to focus less on lifting some of the heavier books. Come to think of it, most of them were heavy books.

He really was an old professor; he had to be.

“You think you’d be able to just turn the pages if you didn’t have to lift the books themselves?”

Again, that wave of surprised gratefulness hit her, and again she was sad at not being able to even grip his shoulder like Derek does her to give comfort.

His voice was the same quiet hers is when she thinks she might cry. “Yeah, I think I could.”

Penelope, while happy that her hourly Spencer Thoughts alarm was helping, was devastated that he wasn’t able to do much in the house alone. She commended Emily’s idea of leaving out the books for him, but said she’d be coming over to lend something of hers to Spencer.

Later that week, when they could plan it with work, Penelope brought herself, a dinner to share with Emily, and her gift for Spencer over.

Emily saw that Penelope moved to kiss each of Spencer’s cheeks in greeting. She stayed a hair away from the form of him; no one liked accidentally moving through Spencer, but he seemed to light up at it. Again, her heart ached.

Penelope put down the bag with their dinner in it, and Emily smiled when she realised what it was; it was from the restaurant Spencer had recommended while she and Penelope were on the phone and she was going through the menus. She’d been there a few times since and he was right, it was one of the best. She’d even since taken Penelope there, and Spencer seemed to like that they took his recommendations seriously.

Now that Penelope had only the gift in her arms, she turned her bright grin on Spencer. “While I know you’re not always able to manipulate your surroundings, I did wrap this. I can’t help who I am; I love wrapping presents. That said, I can unwrap it for you if you need.”

Emily was sure that Penelope could feel the glee coming from Spencer now, which only heightened after Penny set down the present - he was able to unwrap it.

He laughed, “a CD player?”

Penny nodded emphatically, taking it upon herself to plug it in as she talked. “Yes! So that you can put on music, or audiobooks, while we’re out! Emily told me about you silently moping about while no one’s here.” She waved an admonishing finger at him. “I get it; Gideon wasn’t overly active, and neither is Rossi when they’re left to their own devices, but you still need entertainment, stimulation, while you’re here alone.”

“I’m grateful but Penelope, are the two people you just mentioned older?”

She paused, surprised. “Yeah, hun, why’s that?”

Emily snorted at Spencer’s indignant ‘I’m not old!’ that followed.

Penny looked mortified and cast an accusing glare at Emily. “Emily! You lied to me!”

Emily held up her hands, in surrender or as a placating gesture she wasn’t sure. “Hey now! What else am I meant to think? He doesn’t like technology, his home is styled like an old person, and his clothes consist of vests, sweaters, and neckties!”

Penelope smacked her shoulder, then turned to Spencer. “Sweetheart, how old are you?”

“27.”

“A baby!”

Penelope’s aggrieved cry made Emily laugh. “What do you mean, ‘a baby’? He’s only four years younger than you.”

Penelope’s glare was back on her, and Emily shut up again.

Spencer was trying not to sound amused, “I’m not that young.”

Penny waved a hand at Emily before turning her attention back on Spencer. “No honey, you’re not. But you’re certainly younger than someone had lead me to believe.” She clapped her hands over her mouth then, and looked between the CD player and Spencer. “Oh no! Because somebody lied about your age -I went to Hotch and Rossi for music recommendations.”

Spencer laughed, and crouched down in front of the CD player. “I think that’s okay, I’m not too fond of more recent music. The neighbour plays the radio sometimes and I’m not that interested.”

Penny seemed to light back up and moved to sit on the ground beside Spencer. “Well, in that case!”

Emily left the two to talk about Penny’s multi-disc CD player (“And you don’t have to worry about not being able to handle discs all the time!”) as she moved the food onto plates in the kitchen, the house feeling more like a home in recent days than it had before. Than any house had before, she thought.

Emily would remember that night for the rest of her days; Penny had pulled the both of them into dancing to the older music. Spencer was hesitant, but after seeing the two women do silly moves together and laughing, he’d joined in.

Emily also noticed that that night, Spencer’s form was more substantial than it ever had been; he really did look youthful, even if still blurred.

After Emily had learned just how quickly Spencer could read -and subsequently getting mad at him again for not saying anything- she asked to rifle through his belongings again to get more out for him.

She took more time to look at them this time, and was surprised to see some in Russian. Rather than saying anything to him directly, she got Penelope’s help in looking for some Russian movies the two thought Spencer may like.

Sitting down in blankets on the couch, the two ended up watching some together, Emily’s contentedness doubled by being able to feel the same emotion coming from Spencer as well.

The day Emily brought home Sergio, Penelope was crushed she was caught at work assisting another department and couldn’t join in. Emily had promised many cat sitting nights to ease Penny’s expression down to just a pout. Still, while she was sad Penelope couldn’t be there as planned, she did want more of the focus on Spencer, so it helped her feel a little better about it.

She let out the slinky little thing in the laundry; the litter, food, and some water in there as it adjusted to the new environment. She’d made sure to spend some time with it before taking him on the trip home, so the friendly cat warmed up to her at least a bit before being brought here.

“Spence, come say hello.”

He was behind her in a moment, having come through the closed door silently.

“What if he hates me?” Having not heard Spencer come in, the cat startled. Ears flat and tail flicking, it inspected him for a long minute.

“Think you’re up to holding treats right now?”

“I hope so.”

She shook the little bag she’d been given to get the cat’s attention before tipping a couple into Spencer’s waiting hand. They both released a breath when the treats landed on his hand instead of falling through to the floor.

He knelt down, holding his palm out and flat for the cat to come up when it was ready.

“I forgot to tell you, but a lot of animals don’t seem to like me.”

“Get that negative attitude outta here; animals pick up on it. Sergio will love you and help to keep you present at home, and you can keep him company while I’m out on cases.”

Spencer laughed, his reaction reserved as he tried to look inviting to what was not much more than a kitten.

“Sergio?”

“Yeah, thought of it just now. But he looks like a Sergio, doesn’t he?”

Considering the cat for only another moment, Spencer nodded. “Yeah, he does.” After that, Sergio deigned Spencer good enough to accept treats from, the feeling of his whiskers ticking Spencer’s hand melting away any remaining fear he had.

Spencer seemed happy, and less transparent, since they welcomed Sergio into the house. Penelope was also there more often, and almost each time she came with some sort of treat for Sergio, as well.

Between one of Penelope’s visits and the next, Emily brought up with her the suspicion that Spencer was linked to their current case.

“But we haven’t seen any Spencers, let alone our Spencer, in any case notes.” Emily smiled at the ‘our Spencer’ Penelope said without hesitation, and nodded along.

“Still, I can’t shake this feeling. The house was on the market by the time we were on the case, meaning that- that something happened to Spencer earlier. Possibly before the unsub got enough practice in to be on our radar. There would have been time between when the listing was put up, and when whatever caused the house to,” she paused, pressing her thumb into the palm of her other hand as she stumbled around wording she didn’t want to use. “Not be in his hands anymore.”

Penny fretted, fingers drumming on her desk as she shook her head. “I don’t want to think of our sweet boy being tangled up in this, this horrible mess.”

“I know.” She got up from her chair to place her hands on Penelope’s shoulders, kneading slightly. It helped her with her nervous energy, and seemed to help ground Penny at the same time. “I hate the thought of it, but I can’t overlook it. What if it helps us with the current case?”

Penelope nodded, rubbing her hands together before placing them back down at her keyboard. “Okay, that’s a good point. Have you spoken to him about it?”

Guilt had found its way into Emily’s chest; she’d delayed asking only because she felt she knew Spencer wouldn’t react well. Like when they’d first been asking him.

“Not yet. But Pen?” The other woman turned in her seat to look up at Emily, and Emily prepared for her next words. “I don’t want to pry, and I don’t want you to pry, but-”

“You want me to find out who our sweet boy is?” Emily nodded and Penelope seemed to recoil from her keyboard. “It feels preemptively icky to poke into his life when he may not want us to.”

“I know,” when Penelope turned back to facing her computer, Emily leaned to place her chin on the top of Penelope’s head. “But I’d feel a lot worse if we didn’t look down this avenue and it cost more lives.”

Penelope let out an uncomfortable groan before motioning for Emily to leave.

“You’re right, and I normally love when you’re right, but I don’t like this. Don’t watch me snoop on our ghostly brain; it’ll make it worse. I’ll do it as soon as I can while working on the current case.”

Emily turned her head to press her cheek to Penelope’s hair, wishing she’d used her lips instead, then left the room.

Sitting in the back of the car on the way to a scene, Emily was regretting not saying yes to staying behind at the office. Hotch was driving, and also pretending like he wasn’t smiling, while Derek was grilling her unnecessarily.

“Come on now, I know you got some poor man hook, line, and sinker. You’re too eager to leave the office, and you’re actually early most days instead of late.”

“I don’t know if you’re aware, Morgan, but those two seem conflicting. Wouldn’t I be in late if I had someone taking up my free time like that?”

He held up his pointer finger, nodding. “See now that’s what would normally happen. But everyone knows you’re not a morning person. You’re too awake by the time you reach the office these days, and that’s got to be somebody else’s doing.”

She frowned at him, but thought better than to wish he wasn’t quite so good at his job. She frowned more when she noticed Hotch nodding along, as if saying ‘good work, Derek, we hadn’t considered that possibility’.

“I’m not in a relationship with some poor man, maybe I just value my time more than before.”

Derek turned in his seat, and Emily wanted to wipe that shit-eating grin off his face. “Okay, alright. Then you’ve got some sweet ladylove, don’t you?”

Again with Hotch’s agreeing nod. ‘Good deduction, Derek, we didn’t think of that as an option’.

Without meaning to, the image of Penelope relaxed and happy while sprawled out on her couch came to mind. On the heels of that was the memory of Penelope dancing along to Paul Anka in her living room with her and Spencer.

She was mortified to see Derek’s smug face when she came back to the present, and kicked the back of his chair.

In the voice Emily thought of as his ‘tired dad voice’, Hotch seemed to recite, “Now now, kids, if you fight in the car I’ll turn it around and we’ll all go right back home.”

Her only consolation was that it was Hotch hiding a small smile in the driver’s seat and not Rossi; she’d be pestered by two children at heart otherwise.

She kicked the back of Derek’s chair again for good measure, eliciting a laugh from him.

Emily noticed that Spencer is a tactile person. They spoke about it, and he said he wasn’t normally with touching other people, but for things he guessed he might be. He turns his nose up at Penelope’s computer when she brings it unless it’s showing the TV show they’re watching. He likes when they use his DVDs instead of Penelope pirating things.

“I thought you’d be against that given you work as a tech analyst for the FBI. Aren’t you catching wrongdoers with your computer skills?” He gestured to her hard drive of shows and movies that they’d been using.

“Spencer, my sweet baby genius, how do you think I got this job?” Spencer was horrified.

He loves Emily reading things out to him instead of audio books, but makes an exception for ones on CD that she hires from the library for him. She borrows from the library for when she’s away on cases so he has another way to read more when home alone, and they all go into Penny’s CD player.

After one of Penelope’s visits, she learns that Emily has been reading to Spencer, and immediately wants to be involved.

She reads the sci-fi Emily teases the two about while Emily’s away, and again, Spencer seems more there than he has before.

While she loved having the time she did with Spencer and Penelope, and was resistant to the thought of changing it, she felt selfish. She should want more people meeting and befriending Spencer for his sake, and it felt wrong keeping a secret so big from the team.

As a result, she made a decision she was scared she’d back out of. Before she could overthink it, she was thinking hard of Spencer and calling her home phone.

When it was answered, her victorious feeling squelched a little of the dissatisfaction she was forcefully trying to shove away.

“Spencer?”

“Emily! I didn’t know if I should answer or not, but since, well, I knew you were thinking of me, it seemed logical.”

“Look at that brain, hard at work.” She grinned, and heard his quiet scoff in response. “Look, I called you for a reason.”

“I put my big brain hard at work and guessed that too, did you know?”

“Alright, smart-arse,” she laughed, “I don’t know how you’ll respond to this question though.”

“Again, not fond of how you’ve started, but you can ask.” She thought she could hear the documentary she’d left in the dvd player for him in the background, and it eased her nerves further.

Emily checked the hallway outside the empty room she’d found, making sure no one would overhear her. “I think I want you to meet another of my team members.”

She cringed at the following pause, rubbing the back of her neck with her free hand.

Spencer was just as hesitant as she thought he would be. “What if- I mean. You and Penelope know me already, but what if- I mean they might not believe you, or if they do, they might think I’m a threat.”

Emily’s brows rose, hearing her own fears repeated back to her didn’t help. She nodded, then realised Spencer couldn’t see her. “He may do, but I don’t think it’ll take long for him to come around. He has a soft-spot for Penelope, and she adores you. Actually; you may remember him. It’s Derek, he came to the house and fixed the leaky tap?”

Again, there was a pause, but Emily didn’t know the cause of it this time. “Spencer?”

“Uh, y-yeah, I, I think um, I remember him.”

She felt her lips curve into a grin, and she bit her tongue for a moment before caving into the urge. “Oh, you remember him, huh? I don’t actually remember you being present in the house, so does that mean you were just watching him?”

“We weren’t talking at that point.” His response was so quick she couldn’t hold back a laugh. She knew that if she were there, she would feel shy embarrassment oozing off of him.

“Maybe you remember Penelope’s wording from that day; she and I might have been oogling each other, were you oogling him?”

“If you want to tell him, I have minimal reservations about it. Thanks for the heads up. I’ll see you when you’re home.” Emily thought she was actually cackling when the call cut out.

“Alright, Prentiss. You’ve pulled me away from the action and I’m a little concerned.” His voice had surface-level teasing, but Derek really did look troubled. Her obvious nerves on display as they sat across from each other probably weren’t helping the situation.

“Derek, I’m going to share something that’s uh, well, it’s pretty out there.” She rubbed at her jaw, and he raised a brow then gestured for her to go on.

“Do you-” She sighed. She’d agonised over how to discuss this and wasn’t happy with anything she’d come up with. “Do you believe in the afterlife? In anything after someone dies?”

He looked thrown, but took a moment to think about his answer before replying. “How can we be expected to know what’s waiting for us? People who have been revived tell all sorts of stories, and the ones that leave permanently can’t tell what stories they may have. People in comas report different things as well, so I don’t think we can ever know. I like to believe there’s more for us on the good days, but on the bad days?” He shrugged, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his lap. “When I’m laid to rest, I want that to be final. So, I don’t know. What’s prompted such a question from you anyway? You’re deeply rooted in the tangible, aren’t you?”

“I used to think so.” He looked worried, but she didn’t want him to get too comfortable in thinking that that was the right emotion, so she switched tracks. “So, I’m not hiding a romantic relationship.”

He clapped his hands, sitting up straighter in his seat. “Think I got a little whiplash from that change. But okay, you are hiding a relationship then?” At her nod, he smoothed his hands over his lap. “Alright, go on.”

“I want to preface this with the fact that Penelope already knows and adores him.”

“I don’t like that you feel the need to preface this relationship with information, and I’m getting a bad feeling.” He leaned forward, putting a hand on her knee. “Emily, tell me what’s going on.”

When she carded her fingers through her hair, he gave her knee an encouraging squeeze. “There’s a man living at the apartment with me. Well, he’s there with me, but I’m not sure he’s living there.”

“What the fuck, Emily, do you mean?”

She rushed to reassure him, placing a hand over his on her knee. “It’s- he’s like a ghost? We’re not sure.”

Disbelief creased his eyebrows, and started looking a bit like anger. Emily bit her lip.

“Emily, I don’t know how you expect me to react to this. But you’re not joking, are you?”

She shook her head, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I don’t know how I expected you to react, either. I got the wiggins when I first met him. I started looking for a new house, Derek.”

He stood up, throwing his hands in the air before bringing one of them to rest on the top of his head. As if he was physically pushing down this shocked anger. “You’re telling me you bought a house with a goddamn ghost in it, realised, then didn’t move out as soon as you could? Are the batteries still in those CO detectors I installed?”

She tried not to look offended. “Would it help if I got Penelope in here?”

The hand on his head closed into a fist. “So both you and Garcia are possibly in danger dealing with a haunting? That’s what it seems like you’re saying to me.”

“Haunting has negative connotations, I’m not sure it’s the right word to use. It’s- it’s more like he’s- we’re cohabitating.” She brought her hands together, lacing her fingers tightly as she struggled to give an apt description of the Spencer Situation.

“If I had any hair, it’d be grey right now.”

“Would you come and meet him? He’s just a kid, and he’s really sweet.”

“I thought you said it was a man?”

She waved a hand, sitting back in her seat now that Derek’s protective anger seemed to have subsided at least a little. “I mean, he is a grown man. But, you’ll understand when you see him. He’s almost thirty, but, you’ll get it.”

“I’m gonna die in a modern day haunting and you’re going to be the reason.”

“That’s the spirit.” She got up and patted his shoulder, hoping he knew she was thankful he didn’t call her batty right from the start.

They’d arranged it so Penny and Emily were already at the house, sitting with Spencer to try and help with his anxiety before Derek showed up. After a little wheedling from Emily, he was also bringing things to install an exhaust fan.

Spencer wasn’t leaving any steamed up mirror messages anymore, but Derek had scared her about mould build-up in a humid room now anyway.

When there was a knock at the door, all three of them seemed to jump in their seats despite the fact that they were expecting it; Derek was right on time.

Despite the fact that Penny, Emily, and now Derek were very conscious of Spencer, he seemed a little more faded than usual. His leg was back to bouncing, and Emily turned to face him fully.

“Spencer, whatever happens, he won’t try and hurt you.”

Penelope nodded, “And we wouldn’t let him even if he tried.”

He let out a stressed little laugh, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. “It’s not like he could if he wanted to. Can’t touch people, remember?” He had his hands pressed together between his thighs, stopping himself from gesturing as much as he usually did when nervous.

Not knowing how to respond, Emily inclined her head before getting up to open the door.

If someone had told her before buying the house that she’d be introducing Derek to her stressed out ghost friend and roommate not too long later, she’d have thought they had CO poisoning.

The meeting did not go well.

Derek’s fear after actually seeing a see-through Spencer translated into anger, and Spencer vanished.

While Penelope cried and looked around the house for him, Emily rounded on Derek.

“I invited you here to meet him! Not to brandish your fear at the unknown as anger like a weapon! He is a poor, helpless man that Penelope and I are trying to help!” She gestured at the empty spot on the couch Spencer was just in. She was fearful that with him disappearing like that he may not come back. The fear compounded her anger.

“Prentiss, are you serious? It’s great that the two of you are well-meaning. That you’re so willing to help those in need, and I love that about you two, I really mean it.” He pointed to the same, empty spot on the couch she did. “But you just showed me a real, actual ghost, that has been around you and Garcia for god knows how long, and expect me to be good with that?”

“Yes, actually, I did. How stupid of me. How stupid of me to think you would trust me.”

“You two could have been in danger. Danger we haven’t dealt with before. For god’s sake, Emily, he’s a fucking ghost!”

“You think I don’t know that already? Do you seriously think that I would leave myself in danger, for months, if I thought Spencer was dangerous?”

“We put ourselves in danger every day for this job. And you hide so much about who you are, what am I meant to think about you in a situation like this?”

Her breaths quickened. Fear, outrage, betrayal; they made her eyes sting and her voice quieting and stony. “You think that I would put Penelope in danger? You may think I’m reckless with my own life, but hers? Get out.”

“Emily, you have to understand, I-”

“I don’t have to anything! Get out!”

Both their chests were heaving, and both were holding back from saying more, or yelling more, but barely.

Penelope came back after her search of all the rooms, hands swiping at the tears in her eyes as she looked between the two.

“No more yelling, please.” Her voice cracked, and Emily thought she might scream instead.

Derek lifted his hand and put it back down in an aborted move towards Penelope. “Garcia…”

“Don’t. He’s gone now, and the way I see it? It’s your fault.” Derek recoiled like he’d been slapped.

“Penelope.” His voice was hurt now, and Penny clenched her hands.

“I mean it, Derek. He’s so sweet, and he’s so harmless, and he’s so fragile. And he’s never just, gone like this. And unless, and until, he comes back? I don’t think I can look at you without thinking some really hurtful things.”

Derek’s eyes took on a heartbroken sheen Emily hadn’t seen before. While she couldn’t imagine the pain of Penelope saying something like that to her, she knew it had to be tearing him apart.

All the same, she gestured to the door.

“You’re not welcome here.”

Penelope stayed over that night, and fell asleep crying in Emily’s arms.

The tension at work was off the charts, but all three remained tight lipped about the cause.

While they knew that sooner or later, Hotch would pull them into a room and demand an explanation, they could delay that happening as long as they didn’t let it impact the quality of the work they were doing.

There were well-meaning prods from Rossi to all three; Derek responded with anger, Penelope with sadness, and Emily with cold indifference.

Emily thought she might actually get fired due to being the perceived cause of a serious argument in the team where she was the newest member.

And it only made her anger at Derek worse.

Every night that she had to go home to her now achingly empty house, her resentment built up a little more.

Every day, she looked for little signs of Spencer. Like when she’d first moved in. She started putting recycling in the rubbish bin just to see if she’d get a passive-aggressive little note.

Penelope came over once to find her crying over the takeout menus with Sergio purring on her lap.

She was sick of it.

Sick of her empty home. Their empty home. Of seeing concerned glances from Hotch, JJ, and Rossi. Sick of seeing Derek’s guilty anger every day. And broken over seeing Penelope dealing with the loss of their friend.

She started reading his books aloud. She’d sit on the couch, reading them aloud and commenting on things like he was there. She’d talk in the house like he was listening. Point out funny positions she found Sergio in like Spencer was right there and able to see.

When that wasn’t working, since she felt she was already on the way to being seen as losing her mind, she figured she might meditate. It really wasn’t her thing.

She sat down on the floor of the living room, legs crossed and eyes closed, and thought about him.

She tried to think of nothing but him being in the house. From right when she first moved in up until the day he left. She was frowning, and could feel she was crying, and her legs were cramping, but she just dug her nails into her legs, gritted her teeth, and kept going.

“I don’t know why you’d sit on the floor and look so uncomfortable when there’s three chairs right nearby.”

Her eyes flew open, and she stood up so fast on cramped legs that she almost fell right back to the ground.

“Spencer! Jesus, where did you go?” She moved as if to hug him, pulling back at the last minute and wrapping her arms around herself instead.

He stood before her, hands in his pockets and shoulders hunched, with that silly little smile and overwhelming feelings coming off him in waves.

He shrugged, looking at his feet as his hair fell into his eyes. Hazel eyes, she realised. The image of him was so clear now it was like he was actually, physically there. No longer a suggestion, but a full person right there.

“I can see you. I can really see you.”

“Took you long enough.” She laughed, a sob escaping at the same time as she brought her hands up to her face, wiping at her tears.

“I have to tell Penelope, she’s been distraught.”

“Just Penelope?” He grinned, tilting his head to look closer at her.

“Yeah, just Penelope. I liked having the space all to myself, actually.”

Spencer glanced around the room; his belongings strewn about like she was going to summon him with them. “Yeah, looks that way.”

“I’m afraid if I stop looking at you, you’ll disappear again.”

“I hope not.”

“How did you come back?”

He cast his gaze around again, and Emily felt a little shyness from him. “I’m not really sure. It’s like, I was back in that almost-dream state. It was dark, and I feel like my ears were ringing? Beeping? But I think I could hear you. Did you read to me in Russian?”

“I tried.”

“Your Russian is getting better.”

She let out another sobbed laugh, stepping closer to him. She couldn’t stop staring; he seemed actually tangible and she couldn’t get over it.

He lifted a hand, almost bringing it to her face like he was going to wipe away tears, but closed his fist and let it hang between them instead. “The more you spoke to me, the more it felt like I was returning. I-I don’t know how to explain it. You were like a candle in a dark room, burning brighter every time you spoke to me. And then just before, it was like being, being suddenly yanked into, well, being.”

Without thinking the action through, Emily lifted her hand to hold it near his cheek, like when Penelope kissed his cheeks in greeting. Her breath caught when he felt solid. Not warm or cold, which was odd, but there.

Shock widened both their eyes, and they quickly pulled each other into a tight hug. Hands fisted in clothing like it was the only thing holding Spencer in place, and Emily was torn between elation that she could actually hold him and fear that if she stopped he’d be gone.

“I really, really need to call Penelope.” The words were muffled in his shoulder, but he nodded.

“I’d really like that.”

“You’re so tall. Have you always been this tall?”

“No. When I was born I was just as tall as a baby.”

She laughed, hitting his shoulder through blurred vision. “You idiot.”

“You love me.”

“I do.” She pulled back and took his hand in hers, her grip uncomfortably tight but he wasn’t fighting it. He revelled in the thought of seeing the impression of her fingers when she did let go; he was tangible.

She found it difficult to fish through her bag, get her phone, and call Penelope while trying to keep her eyes on him. But if she looked away and he disappeared, especially before Penelope got here? She really would break.

He laughed as he watched her, helping a little after she hit his shoulder again.

“Why are you smiling more each time I hit you?” She was grinning, and he shrugged.

“It’s nice that I can actually feel it.”

“Pft, masochist.” His response was cut off by Penelope answering her phone.

“Penelope, he’s back. Get over here immediately.”

“Oh god, I’m coming.”

They sat on the couch while they waited, and it felt surreal for Spencer to be correcting her on Russian grammar while they waited the 15 minutes it took for Penelope to get there.

She had a key, and didn’t hesitate to let herself in.

The first time Emily took her eyes off of Spencer, it was to see the relief and joy in Penelope’s eyes and she squeezed Spencer in a crushing hug.

They were all here, and whole, and Emily thought that finally, she might be able to forgive Derek only a little bit.

Emily and Penelope realise that this is the first time they’ve seen Spencer sleeping. Neither of them feel like they’re even capable of sleeping, which will really wreck them for work the next day.

“Hey Em, I know it’s late, but I was able to-” Penelope looks at Spencer, her whisper not even causing him to stir. “I was able to look into him.”

Emily lifted her head. The three were crammed in on Emily’s bed, but Emily and Penelope had wiggled up a little after Spencer fell asleep so they could see each other and talk.

Emily felt her body go rigid, not knowing what to expect. “What did you find?”

“Him. I found him.”

Emily brought her hand up to cover her mouth, making sure she didn’t wake Spencer with any startled noises. She needed to know what Penelope did immediately, but at the same time, was scared of what she might learn.

Penelope’s fingers were moving through Spencer’s hair. “He’s alive.”

Emily closed her eyes, tears of relief falling as she let out a shaky breath. “Thank god. Where?”

“He’s in a coma, in hospital. Not even a twenty minute drive from work.”

“Twenty minute like how Derek drives, or like how Rossi drives?” Hurt flashes over Penelope’s expression just as Emily realises what she’s said.

“We can maybe start to forgive him, now.”

Emily nods, eyes dropping to the peacefully sleeping Spencer between them. “I was thinking that, but it won’t be easy. For me, at least.”

“I get it.” Penelope nods, wetting her lips before continuing. “But that reaction, however bad, came from a good place. He was worried. He was scared for us.”

Emily clenched her jaw. “I know. But the lack of trust? The thought that, not only would I put myself in that much danger, but that-” She felt the angry crease in her brows, and her fingers tightened into a fist at her chest. “That he thought I would put you in danger having you here so often with Spencer? Pen, I wanted to hurt him just for thinking I might do that, let alone for how Spencer-” She cut herself off, closing her eyes to take a deep breath.

“His name is Spencer Reid, you know. It suits him, I think.”

Penelope graciously ignored Emily’s sniffling, and how she wiped at her eyes again. “Yeah, it suits him.”

“We could go and see him tomorrow?”

“I’d like that.”

Penelope looked a little uncomfortable then, and Emily held her gaze until the blonde continued.

“We should of course go there as his friends, but… I think you need to go there in an official capacity, too.”

“Oh.” Penelope nodded at Emily’s quiet, hurt ‘oh’.

“Hotch, you’re not serious.”

The stern glare Emily got in reply caused a twitch in her brow she couldn’t control. Hotch pointed at it and she could have hissed.

“That. That’s why. You’re all closed up about what happened between the three of you. I feel like pulling you into my office is as good as pulling the pin on a grenade, but maybe if you two are forced to actually work like a team, like you’re meant to be, maybe it’ll grease the wheels of conversation.”

“Did you record Rossi while he said that last part, or are you just role-playing as him?” It usually would have come off as a harmless joke, and maybe even earned a smile from him, but this time, Hotch glared at her.

She straightened her shoulders, not dropping his gaze as she conceded.

“I’ll let Morgan know that we’re going to the hospital together.” Hotch’s eyes changed from an angry glare to scrutiny that left Emily feeling exposed. She inclined her head and turned toward the bullpen to avoid it; he was too perceptive, though he’d never guess what actually occurred between she, Derek, and Penelope.

Her mood soured further when, at Derek’s desk, she saw Rossi probably giving Derek a similar stern talk as the one she just got from Hotch. Her suspicions were confirmed when the two of them looked up to see her, and Rossi looked caught as a deer.

The ride to the hospital was filled with the tense silence that had been building up for days. Emily knew now that with Spencer back, she could and should work on forgiving Derek. She knew Penelope would before she did, but she just didn’t know how to start.

She was driving, and when they pulled over, she locked all the doors to indicate she wanted Derek to stay put.

He could have unlocked his own door, but he took the action for what it was. A firm ‘please wait’.

“I don’t forgive you for what you did. It hurt. It hurt more than you bargained for, and I think you lost big.” She turned to see he was already looking at her. She could feel the gaze she was giving was glassy with unshed tears, but she didn’t let it get in the way of getting out what she needed to before going in there.

Before seeing Spencer in the flesh.

“Spencer is real. He is a real person, and Penelope found him.”

Shock blanked out Derek’s careful patience, and he opened his mouth to respond. Emily continued before he could.

“Shut up. He and I have been living together for months. Struggling to tether him here, for months. And you fucked up that effort in one fell swoop.”

Chastised wasn’t a look that was natural for Derek, it seemed. But right now, she liked it on him.

“Luckily for all of us, he was able to come back last night. Before that, Penny had been looking for him. The physical version. Unfortunately,” she had to stop. The thought of Spencer as a victim of their current unsub causing a heave in her chest. “He is very likely one of the first victims of our unsub. He’s been in a coma for a long time, so he may not-”

She covered her face with her hands, sobs shaking her body while she tried to be silent. When she felt Derek’s hand on her shoulder, she pulled away.

“Don’t. Don’t touch me.”

When she looked at him, he looked devastated all over again, and she was just, unmoored.

“What if he hadn’t been able to come back to me, and- and he doesn’t wake up, Derek? Oh god-” This time, when he pulled her into his arms, she let him.

His words were muffled by her hair, his grip tight and grounding. “I’m so, so sorry, Emily. I was so scared for you, and I acted terribly.” He started rubbing her back as she fought to compose herself. “Now I can’t go back and change the past, as much as I wish I could. But Emily I swear, I will do everything I can for you and that boy. We’re going to catch this unsub, and I’ll do your paperwork when I can if it means you get to come here and see him more. I’m so sorry.”

They stayed like that until Emily was able to compose herself, and she sat holding Derek’s hand for another minute after that.

“You ready to go see him?”

She took another slow breath as she looked up to Derek, helpless. “I have to be.”

Derek took the role of asking the nurse in the room about his injuries when admitted and ongoing care. Emily held her professional composure up until the nurse wasn’t facing her anymore then bit her knuckle hard to control herself.

Yet another deep breath, and she went from frozen with Spencer just in view to sitting at his bedside holding his hand with no memory of the movement.

“I thought I’d lost you, handsome. But look, you’re right here.” She bit her lip, looking him over and comparing what she was seeing with the version she saw in her house last night. In their house.

“You were so close this whole time. Aren’t you meant to be smart? You should have told me.” She smoothed his hair, laughing when it sprung back to what might be an unmanageable mess as soon as she moved her hand away. “I thought you were dishevelled because you were a ghost, but that’s your default, huh?”

She felt Derek’s arm on her shoulder, and he lifted his phone up in his free hand. “Hotch asked us to come back as soon as we can. Linking Spencer gave us a new location, from when the unsub was more of a beginner.”

“From when he was more likely to make mistakes.” She said what Derek’s words implied, and he nodded.

An alarming amount of hope started to fill her chest and she tried to contain it. “Okay. Alright, we’ll go. And Derek?” Her gaze was intense, and he held it. “Thank you.”

He gave her shoulder a squeeze then left the room before her, allowing her another moment alone with Spencer.

She stood up, steeling herself to get back to work as she looked down at him. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay? And we’re gonna get him. I don’t want to promise it, but, I’ll do my best.”

She leaned in to kiss Spencer’s head, and if she’d still been holding his hand, she would have felt a twitch in his fingers.

When Spencer’s attack had first been looked into, it was a rush job. He’d come from a bar smelling of alcohol, and it was wrongfully assumed he’d been involved in some sort of brawl based on eye-witness accounts.

One witness had apparently seen so much that police were confident it was some stupid fight that had gotten out of hand, and ended with an unfortunate injury but no death.

The CCTV footage that Penelope got her hands on, however, showed a new side to that too-neat story.

Spencer had come out of the bar, looking bewildered and struggling. It matched prior cases where victims were plied with drinks stronger than usually served, who were then ‘shown out’ by bar staff where after they unfortunately were murdered.

In the footage, a blurry Spencer Reid stumbled out under the guiding hand of a staff member. While they were talking with him, another person wearing the same uniform came out, and seemed to relieve the previous person.

“Garcia, who is that?” Hotch’s eyes hadn’t left the screen; this was entirely new evidence that he and Penelope were undoubtedly going to watch many more times.

“No answer for you yet, sir, but I’m working on it. Believe me I am going to get him.” Her voice came over the loudspeaker, the audio quality not impacting her tone. The vehemence in her voice surprised him, but not enough to distract from the task at hand.

Rossi raised an eyebrow, though.

Horrified, Emily watched as this newer person forcefully led an unwilling, but incoherent, Spencer down the alley nearby. While the view was obscured from there, Penelope let out a pained little noise that matched the one Emily did.

Derek squeezed her hand, and Hotch’s analysing gaze didn’t miss that.

When Spencer had stumbled out of the alleyway not long after, the unsub behind him, there were a couple people around. It was clear despite the muted footage there was yelling, but Spencer stumbled away from an unsympathetic audience with the person dressed as staff stopped and spoke with the bystanders.

Emily worked late into the night, and considering the fact that she and Penelope had seen Spencer sleep for the first time last night, she figured that was why she didn’t find him in the house.

It set her on edge, but at least she knew from recent experience that if he really disappeared again, she’d be able to bring him back.

The next day, Emily found that Penelope had been in the office before sunrise, and had searched CCTV footage from all around the bar to find and follow Spencer’s attacker.

They didn’t have this opportunity with the later cases, because the unsub grew more criminally sophisticated after Spencer’s attack.

But Emily knew Penelope had him by the balls now, and her grip was unforgiving.

After such an arduous, truly horrific time of chasing him, they finally got their hands on one Paul Sunderland rather quickly after looking into Spencer’s attack.

Derek had a hand in keeping Emily from the takedown, and while Hotch didn’t understand why, he trusted Derek’s advice and had Emily back in the office with Penelope; seething.

Later, when Paul was in custody and being processed, Penelope received a call from the hospital. Emily had leaned in, pressing her ear to the side of Penelope’s headset to hear the muffled conversation.

“-released at 2:30pm this afternoon.” She bit her tongue to dam the outburst of anger; Spencer had been released from the hospital hours ago and they’d only just been called about it. How was he even moving? His muscles must have atrophied something chronic.

Penelope and Emily called Hotch together, citing a personal emergency with a close friend requiring their immediate leave, should he be able to grant it.

While they could sense he was sore at missing so much information recently, he let them go. In Emily’s car, with her driving scarier than Penelope’s could be, they rushed to Spencer and Emily’s house.

Penelope was on a rant the whole way, with Emily emphatically cutting in with agreements and outrage.

Emily wasn’t kind in her break when parking the car, but neither of them stopped to think about it as they made their way up the stairs.

Her keys were already in hand when they two reached the apartment level, but Emily suddenly halted at the top, and caused a puffing Penelope to run into her back.

“Why-” She took a break, hand on Emily’s back, steadying her. “Why are we stopping?”

A pale, sweating Spencer was sitting on the floor, back to their apartment door, with crutches on the ground beside him. The two women rushed over to him, pulling him into their arms where he held them back just as tight.

“Spencer, what- what are you doing here? How’d you get here?” Emily pulled back to look him over, concern clear.

Penelope cut in before he could respond, running her hands over his arms. “Why are you on the floor outside, sweetheart?”

“It’s my house.” He was breathless, but gleeful. “Sorta sat on the stairs and worked my way up. What kind of building doesn’t have an escalator?” He took another breath, head falling back onto the door. “Crutches didn’t help. Locks have been changed.”

The two girls helped him in and onto the couch, fawning over him. He might not like this kind of attention usually, but soaked it up while it felt good and was available.

The night saw them wrapped in blankets on the bed, Emily conceding to watching old Doctor Who episodes while they drank Spencer’s tea.

Emily felt whole again. Restored.

Maybe she and Penelope weren’t in a relationship yet, and they’d have to go back to work the following day to a demanding and unwelcome amount of paperwork to finally close off and finally ditch Spencer’s attacker’s case, and Spencer had guaranteed grueling physical therapy to attend, but for now…

Just for now, Emily basked in the feeling of belonging, relief, and home.

#Criminal minds fanfic #Penemily on the side of Spencer Reid and Emily Prentiss besties #Ghost AU #wowee shit I am soo pleased with this #tags to be edited after I sleep #cm fanfiction #best friends!spemily #ghost!Spencer #this has been called bizarre in a positive way twice now and I love that for me

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