#they love to play the fun game of how much therapy does the bau need

[artfulacrostic]

Me, sweating about the BAU’s collective inevitable trauma from whatever the season finale is this fucking time: hm, it’s about time somebody gets kidnapped again, isn’t it!

Mark Hamill, swanning in to kill Strauss and kidnap Blake: :)

[softtransbf]

Mister Nice Guy, part 2

part one

Summary: Shit hits the fan, and the rest of the BAU is done with it.

Word Count: 3523

Reader: he/him trans man, no physical description

Warnings: case involving targeting gay people, brief mention of a child abduction case, coming out/anxiety of experiencing transphobia (no actual transphobia though), alcohol, swearing

@aleccolocco (sorry it took so long to finish lol)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"No, that doesn't make any sense at all, doctor!" you spat his title. "He's not jealous of these couples, killing what he can't have, or a homophobe, punishing gay people for being happy. He's putting an end to their unhappy relationships. He sees it as mercy." Over the months, your cold war with Reid turned into outright conflict, and tonight, alone in the police station in Oregon, was no exception. Hotchner had tasked the two of you with presenting the preliminary profile the next morning, and it was going as well as conversations ever went.

"We have no evidence that he knows they're unhappy, though. All of his victims are clearly happy in their relationships," Reid challenged.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. "Please. One look at their social media and it's obvious that the relationships are on the rocks."

"Where do you get that? All I see are typical happy relationships. Selfies, checking into special events together, posts about kind things one does for the other. Nothing indicating a troubled relationship to me."

"The gentlemen doth protest too much. They're painting an overly happy painting on social media, hoping that some of that happiness will actually become real. They're desperate for the relationship to work."

"Let's say you're right. I don't think you are, but let's pretend for the sake of trying to see your logic through. Why? Why would they be so desperate to save a failing relationship?"

"God, straight men just don't fucking get it!" You went to grab a file, missing his small flinch. "You don't understand how limited the dating pool for men who are into men is. Look at the most recent couple in particular. The most lovey-dovey on social media, and got the most brutal deaths."

"Yes, because they were the happiest. My theory holds," Reid interrupted.

"No. Look, this guy put way more out there on social media than his partner, and look at the pictures he posted. Look how forced his smile is, look at the body language. He needs this relationship to work, because dating as a gay man is one thing, dating as a gay trans man is almost impossible. Having to start over and deal with transphobia over and over again is worse than being in a bad relationship. In his eyes, I mean." Shit, the first person I come out to on this team cannot be Spencer fucking Reid. He doesn't deserve the honor.

"That was yesterday. We haven't gotten the autopsy report yet. How could you possibly know that he's trans?"

"Testosterone vials and needles in the bathroom. Neither of them are old enough for a cis man to reasonably have issues that require testosterone injections. It's HRT, hormone replacement therapy."

"Even if you're right, your conclusion still seems like a much bigger jump than mine, that the killer sees the relationships as happy and is lashing out at that, be it from jealousy or homophobia."

"Whatever. You'll see tomorrow, when we talk to the M.E., that he was trans, and that fact backs me up. I am absolutely right about this, and you will eat your words. Then I will present my theory, and you can choke on yours."

"We? You anticipate us spending more time together?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I meant 'we' as in the team, asshat. The world doesn't revolve around you. Mine sure as hell doesn't. I'm gonna go back to the hotel, write my own damn preliminary profile, and try to get some fucking sleep. Clearly we won't agree on this."

"We don't ever agree on anything," he pointed out.

"Not true. We agree that we dislike each other and can't get along. Good night, doctor." You turned and walked away, not giving him a chance to respond.

This man is going to be the death of me, he thought as he watched you walk away.

~

The autopsy report came in the next day, and you were right. The tech team also found a locked notes app on his phone that catalogued his unhappiness and fear of leaving. You presented your preliminary profile to the team. Reid didn't even argue; he just sat in silence, leaving the room as soon as you were finished. Never one to pass up a chance to gloat for beating him, you offered to get coffee for the team, got everyone's order, and left shortly behind him.

You were expecting to catch up to him, his impossibly long legs be damned. You weren't expecting him to be waiting for you. He pulled you into an empty interrogation room and pushed you up against a wall, his face just inches from yours. It was only a moment before being flustered by the closeness and those goddamn eyes were replaced by anger.

"What the FUCK, Reid?"

"What game are you playing, Y/N? What game are we playing? What's your endgame?" He spoke quickly and softly, but there was an intensity in his voice that had you captivated.

"I'm the one playing games?" You pushed him back, away from you. "You're the one who decided to hate me before we even met. When I transferred, all I wanted was to do a good job and fit in with the team. But quite literally from the minute I walked through the door, you'd decided you hate me. Turnabout is just fair play, gorgeous." Oh, fuck.

"Gorgeous?" You walked past him to the other side of the room, running a hand through your hair and turning your back on him. "Fine. Yeah, okay? I wanted approval from the brilliant and handsome Doctor Spencer Reid. In a way that's respectful of your heterosexuality, of course." You turned around and faced him again. "But that doesn't matter, because you made it clear you wanted nothing to do with me right off the bat."

"What makes you think I'm straight?" He's fucking with me, now that that cat is out of the bag. Great. Fucking cishet men. Even he's no different. Thank god he still thinks I'm cis.

"Garcia mentioned in her newbie-run-down that you're 'awkward, but in a cute way, especially around women'. Plus, she mentioned that Emily is bi, leaving everyone else implied straight as even the best cishet allies are wont to do. And as we both know, Penelope knows everything.

And before you make the hearsay argument I can see forming in that brilliant head of yours, I've heard and seen too much about your impeccable memory to assume you don't remember when we all went to the bar after my first case. I was unabashedly Queer, friendly flirting with Derek and calling out cishet bullshit. When I did the latter, you literally rolled your eyes and walked away. Which is, funnily enough, some cishet bullshit. 

JJ said you were just going through a thing and things would get better, but they just got worse. I'm not going to ask you to spill whatever was going on, because it's not my business, but god damn, dude. Why did you hate me so much so quickly?"

"You asked JJ about me?" He took a few steps towards you, a small smile on his face.

"That's the part you focused on? Jesus fucking Christ. Yes, I asked her about why you decided to hate me before we even met. Whatever. I hope you got whatever you were looking for by pulling me in here. I'm done. Done with this conversation, done with whatever has been going on with you and us since the day I transferred." You turned to leave, but he grabbed your arm. It was barely more than a light touch, but you let it stop you.

"Y/N. I can't-" he sighed. "God, you make my head spin. I can't organize my thoughts enough to say what I want to. JJ was right, there was something I had to work through, and I guess you'd made up your mind about me before I figured it out. It isn't an excuse for how I treated you, just an explanation. As for the more recent development of arguments… I guess I read a subtext that wasn't there. I could never dislike you, let alone hate you. I am truly sorry for- for all of it." With three long strides, he was out the door.

Make his head spin? What subtext? Since when is he unable to say what's on his mind? And what was that about not disliking me? All we've done since we met is argue or ignore each other. Why else would he act like that? Why do I even care? Why am I so knotted up about what he's thinking and feeling? Whatever. Fuck him, and not in the fun way. I've gotta go get coffee for the team. As you were getting the coffee, you couldn't get the memory of his face, so close to yours, to stop playing in your head.

The rest of the case was mostly as normal, but there was an energy between you and Spencer that was distant like when you joined the team, but there was something else to it that you couldn't quite put your finger on. It made you a little bit sad, though, for reasons you didn't understand.

~

"I love you, Y/N. I love you so much. I pulled away from you because it terrified me how much I loved you from the moment you walked through the door that first day. Being around you, even when we were arguing, made me feel alive in a way I never had before. You're all I think about, you're all I could ever want. I love you."

"I… I love you too." You didn't know which one of you moved, maybe you both did, but in an instant, you were kissing Spencer Reid, and you couldn't have been happier.

-

You woke up with a start, breathing heavily. You looked around; you were in your room, home alone, and it was 3:37 am. What the hell was that?

Four hours later, you trudged through the door of the BAU office, venti red-eye in hand. You made it about ten steps before Derek had his arm around your shoulders.

"Whoa there, hot stuff. Rough night?" You tried to shake him off, but he wouldn't budge, so you just kept walking, making him go with you towards your desk.

"So not your business, Derek. You being open with your personal life doesn't mean we all have to be open like that with ours."

"Personal life, huh? So who is he? More importantly, how was he, and should we expect more mornings like this in the future?" You rolled your eyes and playfully shoved him away. You'd reached your desk, so you sat on top of it, facing him. As you did, you made eye contact with Spencer, who was well within earshot. His face was unreadable, and you weren't sure why him hearing Morgan tease you like that upset you. It never had before.

"No, Derek. There's no one. Just some nightmares. Nothing major; I'll be fine by tomorrow." You got off your desk, sat in your chair, and logged into your laptop. Derek whistled and walked away without another word, shaking his head.

You tried to focus on the paperwork you needed to get done, but you couldn't stop thinking about that dream. The feeling of his lips on yours… it felt so real.

This is ridiculous. Love? We don't even like each other. Well… there was the stuff he was saying yesterday- 'I could never dislike you, let alone hate you', and some sort of subtext? But not disliking someone is a far cry from love. Plus, he's straight, so this is all absurd. And even if he DID have feelings for me, I sure as hell don't return them. I mean, maybe he's not as awful as I've thought, especially if he wasn't coming from a place of dislike. And he really is very pretty. Those eyes… Wait, what the fuck? This is all fucking ridiculous. I just need to get a full night's sleep tomorrow, and all this weirdness will be gone.

You took a giant gulp of your coffee, shook your head, and ran your fingers through your hair. Fortunately, Hotchner called a team meeting, forcing your attention to other things.

While no case could ever be described as 'normal', this case was pretty cut and dry, once you figured out what you were looking for. No dramatic twist, no tense showdown at his arrest. There weren't many cases like that, but you were very glad that this one was. You never sleep well when on a case, and no matter what you did, you couldn't shake that dream, the butterflies it left in your stomach every time you looked at him, and the strange disappointment when, unlike before that moment in Oregon, he wasn't looking at you.

Two more weeks passed. The energy between you and Spencer, whatever force it was that had drawn you together to argue again and again, was gone. You were polite to each other, and cooperated as necessary, but didn't do more than the bare minimum when it came to interacting with each other. Your interactions were cold and low-spirited. So you were so glad for a fun night out with Penelope, Emily, and JJ.

"So, Y/N, things seem… different… between you and Spencer these days. Did something happen?" Emily's tone made it clear that the three of them had intended to bring this up long before the plan to get drinks was even made. "I appreciate y'all waiting until I had a couple of drinks in me at least before going here. I guess we just got tired of fighting? I don't know. I can't figure out what's going on in that brilliant head of his. I thought I at least knew where I stood with him, even though it was purely adversarial, but I think I was wrong. But then that leaves me with no idea what he thinks of me or why I care so damn much."

"Really? No idea at all?" JJ asked. "I remember walking by a closed door in the police station in Oregon and hearing the word 'gorgeous' being thrown around." "Oh my god. You heard that?" You buried your face in your hands, and they all laughed.

"Yeah, I did, but only that one word. I'd figured you were on the phone with someone, but then you and Spence both started acting sad. I wasn't sure, of course, that you were talking to him until just now."

"Fuck. Okay, yeah. I think he's pretty. But I'm absolutely not alone in that. Derek calls him Pretty Boy, for goodness' sake. Appreciating someone's beauty doesn't have to mean anything more."

"Y/N, really? After everything we've been through together, you're gonna lie to us like this? Whatever happened, you've both been miserable since, and it's throwing the whole team off balance."

"What do you want me to say, Penelope? That I'm in love with him? He's pretentious and a know-it-all and a nerd and funny and kind and gorgeous and oh my God. I think I'm in love with him." The three women clapped and cheered.

"Finally, you get there! Took you long enough." Emily winked. "So, what's the plan now?"

"Keep this shit between us until my feelings go away. Even if he wasn't straight, I wouldn't risk fucking things up by telling him how I felt. As it is, I stand no chance in hell, so I'm just gonna write this one off as another straight guy I've fallen for and try to move on."

"Y/N, if you tell him-" Penelope started.

"No. You, more than anyone, know why I can't even entertain the idea of trying to be with him. I can't set myself up for that kind of pain. Not here, not where things are so good." You looked at all three of them. "I know that your intentions were good, but I just can't do this. I'm sorry." You grabbed your coat and left.

Your interactions with Spencer changed yet again. Now that you knew you loved him, you couldn't help yourself from being warmer towards him. As the weeks passed, you got closer. After three weeks, you considered him to be a good friend, not that that made things any less painful. You were just hoping that Penelope, Emily, and JJ were going to respect your wishes and drop the subject of your feelings for him.

[From: Penelope]: round table room ASAP

Shit. The last time you'd gotten that text from Penelope, the team left on a serial child abduction case 30 minutes later. So, despite it being your day off, you ran out the door and were there with your go bag in 15 minutes.

But no one else was there. No files on the table, nothing to indicate that there was a new case. You pulled out your phone to call Penelope, but then you heard a commotion outside the door- you'd closed it behind you.

"No, Derek, wait, I don't-"

"Can it, Pretty Boy, and thank me later." Derek opened the door, pushed Spencer into the room, winked at you, and shut the door, all in about 3 seconds.

"Spencer. Um, hi. Is the rest of the team not going to join us? Garcia's text seemed pretty urgent." You tucked your phone into your pocket.

"I don't think so, since I just heard Morgan barricade the door." He tried to open the door and failed.

"Oh my god they're Parent Trapping us. I'm gonna kill them."

Spencer tilted his head, confused. "Parent Trapping?"

"Oh my god have you not seen any of the Parent Trap movies? Were you living under a rock in 1998?" "I was seventeen and working on my first doctorate, so pretty much, yeah," he laughed. You couldn't help but laugh, too, as you firmly ignored how his smile made you absolutely melt.

"Fair enough. The '61 one is good too, but the '98 Lindsay Lohan one is Iconic for good reason. Anyway. The point is, they've locked us in here and won't let us out until we have a conversation."

"Just a conversation? Or do they want us to talk about something in particular?" He took a seat at the table.

"I- yeah, they have a particular topic in mind. I'm so sorry. This is my fault. I was tipsy and said things I should have just kept to myself. I thought they'd respected my wishes and left well enough alone, but clearly they didn't. And they won't let us out of here until I tell you-" you hesitated.

"Tell me what?" He leaned forward, and part of you swore you saw hope in his beautiful brown eyes. You looked at the floor, avoiding them.

"Tell you that I… have feelings for you. Romantic, cheesy, butterflies-in-my-stomach feelings. I don't know why they want me to tell you this. We've just gotten to a good place as friends, and you're straight, and-"

Somehow you missed the sound of him getting up and taking the few steps over to you, because you practically jumped out of your skin when his hands were suddenly on your shoulders.

"Y/N. Please, darling, look at me?" Bewildered by the endearment, you did, and his smile was blinding. "I'm not straight. I'm bi, and I think part of me has been in love with you since your first day at the BAU. The thing JJ said I was working through? The potential problems of having feelings for a coworker. For you. As soon as you walked through that door", he pointed and then took both your hands in his, "I loved you. The night at the bar? I was rolling my eyes at myself for how much I wanted to kiss you, and I walked away to stop myself from doing something reckless. I love you, Y/N. Can I do something reckless?"

"I'm trans," you blurted. "I hope that doesn't change anything, but it's something you should know. If knowing that I'm trans changes things, now is the time for you to say something. If it's a problem and it blows up later, it might actually kill me. Because I love you, too. So much. If it doesn't change anything, then please, Spencer, kiss me."

The words were barely out of your mouth before his lips were on yours. You weren't sure how long you were kissing before you were interrupted by cheers from the other side of the door. "Shit, Spencer, they're going to be the worst about this, aren't they?" You were a bit embarrassed by how breathy your voice was, but you were too happy to really care.

"Oh yeah. We're not going to get a moment that's just us in this building ever again. Do you want to get it over with and face them, or would you prefer we stay in this moment a bit longer?"

"What do you think, doctor?" you asked, pulling him in for another kiss.

[brywrites]

Date Night II

Here’s the second part to a TKOW-verse “Date Night”!

Part I | The Keeping of Words

Summary: Three years after leaving the BAU, Dr. Spencer Reid has given up chasing monsters to be a part-time professor and a full-time dad. It’s all domestic bliss - until Cat Adams turns up at the BAU.

Warnings: discussions of miscarriage, abuse

........

And so he took Cat to a roller rink. It wasn’t ice skating, but it was still skating. Walking inside with her like this was all just a fun game. Her fantasy come to life. She made him hold her hand. She kept calling him Spencie and he tried not to cringe, not to snap at the sound of it. It wasn’t a term of endearment. It wasn’t even close to the way it felt to hear Bianca say his name, to whisper my love as she ran her hands through his hair, or the way it sounded when Eliza Lou shouted daddy with the biggest smile on her face. No, any form of his name on Cat Adams’ lips made his skin crawl.

He kept trying to get Cat to slip up, but she refused to answer his questions. “I don’t want to talk about that,” she said after he asked about her baby.

“I didn’t want to talk about it,” he said. “I was actually just trying to see if I could use it against you.”

Cat spun around, skating closer. “Oh, really? What about um… sex?” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body against his. He gritted his teeth as he placed his hands on her waist to steady himself. Her touch felt like burning, in all the worst ways. As she gazed up at him, he had to force himself not to look away. “Why don’t you use that against me?”

It was hard to breathe this close to her, with his thoughts moving too fast and the memories of Mexico, of Milburn coming too quickly. He had to stay calm. He had to play this game. It was the only way to keep Bianca and Elizabeth safe. He was doing this for them. He just had to think of them.

Cat pushed him away suddenly, and the next thing he knew she’d slapped him hard enough to knock him off balance. She skated away and he scrambled off the floor. “Cat, wait! Cat. Cat, wait. Cat!”

“I have spent my entire adult life reading men. I know when they’re thinking about someone else,” she spat. And of course he was. Of course his mind was on his daughter, on his wife, on the two people he would have gone to the ends of the earth for. The only two people who could have compelled him to go on this stupid sham of a date in this godforsaken roller rink. “Do you know what this was for me? I didn’t ask for one last family visit or final meal. I wanted this. And you can’t even give me the courtesy of your undivided attention. So thanks, but this date is over. You can turn off the stupid lights, boys!” she shouted.

“She’s not you,” he blurted out. Cat turned to glare at him. “Ever since you came into my life, it’s like I can’t get you out of my head. There’s some part of my brain, some part that you inhabit and no matter how good or – or kind or attractive my wife is… she’s not you.” And the words weren’t necessarily lies. There had been a time when he couldn’t get Cat out of his head, but because he was haunted by her – not attracted to her. And Bianca wasn’t her, wasn’t anything like the woman who had tried to tear him apart.

“Do you think about me when you fuck her?” Cat asked.

Lie. Lie and make it good. For the first time in a long time he thought of Maeve. Thought of Diane and the warehouse and how he hadn’t been convincing enough to save someone he loved that night. He wasn’t going to lose this time. He looked to the side, hoping the heat rising to his face would look like an embarrassed blush.

Cat laughed, and to his relief it was a laugh of delight. “Oh come on, Spencie. I’m gonna need you to elaborate on that for me.”

He closed his eyes so his microexpressions wouldn’t betray him. “I try not to. But it’s like I can’t help it. She just… doesn’t do it for me anymore. Not like you. And I know she wouldn’t be able to handle the things I – the things I want to do with you.” God, he was going to be sick.

But Cat was threading her arm around his. “If I’m a homewrecker, I want to make it official. Take me home, loverboy.”

Against all his better judgment, he agreed. Cat already knew their address he presumed, given that she’d had Lindsey bring his mother by the day they’d abducted her. They stood on the front porch of the little blue house as Spencer fumbled with the key in the lock.

“Wait,” Cat said, putting her hand on his. “Did you really mean what you said back there?”

“Yes,” he answered immediately. He could feel the questioning stares of Luke and every SWAT agent.

“Prove it,” Cat said. “And make it good. Because I’m this close to letting them die.”

Reid stared at those cold, dark eyes. He had to make her believe it. He had to betray Bianca in order to save her and their daughter. Just pretend it’s her. He cupped Cat’s the face the way he had done to Bianca a million times, closed his eyes and pressed his mouth to hers. It’s Bianca, he told himself. It’s Bianca. He kissed her furiously, the way he did sometimes after they’d spent too much time apart, or she was blushing in that adorable way, or she was begging him for a distraction. The illusion was a fragile one. Anger could be mistaken for passion though, and he was so angry in that moment. He grabbed at her hair tighter, he pressed the weight of his body against her, he sucked harder at her lip. He tried to believe it, but the hand on his cheek was too warm and the hair between his fingers was too long and the tongue forcing its way into his mouth wasn’t hers.

Just when he thought he couldn’t do it any longer, Cat pulled away. He wanted to vomit, but he forced himself to swallow back the bile rising in his throat. He had to make her believe it.

It was only then that he opened his eyes and realized she wasn’t looking at him anymore. She’d opened the door, and he followed her gaze to where Bianca stood in the living room, her mouth hanging open as she stared at them.

His heart plummeted.

He yanked his hand away from Cat as Bianca wrapped her arms around herself, a look of unmistakable hurt plain on her face.

“B, what are you doing here?” he gasped, crossing the room towards her. She clutched her phone in her hand. There was a pattern of bruises, dirt, scratches across her face. A burn visible on her collarbone that he presumed was from the blank that had been fired. He ached to hold her, but she took a step back when he approached.

“Where is she, Spencer? Where’s Elizabeth?” Bianca demanded.

“Get Cat out of here,” Luke shouted at the SWAT team.

“No, no! She’s the only one who knows where my daughter is!” Bianca cried. “Cat doesn’t go anywhere until I know where she is!”

Cat sauntered into the living room, a triumphant smirk on her face. “Well look at that. You’re not as boring as I thought. You’re plucky. Did it make you mad that I was kissing your husband?”

“No.”

Cat pouted. “Why not?”

“Because there are other things on my mind. Where is she?” Bianca demanded. “Where’s Eliza, where’s my daughter?”

“You’re always so serious,” Cat groaned. “Tonight’s supposed to be fun. Like all the games Spencie and I play together.”

“You think this is a game?” Bianca said. “You kidnapped my daughter!”

“The daughter you didn’t even want.”

“What?” Bianca’s eyebrows, knit together in anger, raised slightly as her rage gave way to confusion.

“Oh please.” Cat rolled her eyes, taking a seat in the armchair. “I got the transcript of the arraignment. You’d be surprised how easy it is to bribe prison guards. You didn’t want to be a mother. But boy genius here got you knocked up. I mean, you really think he’d know to wrap it before you tap it.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I? He wanted to be a dad, and now here you are. Really I’m doing you a favor. You see, he’s got everyone fooled. Everyone things Dr. Spencer Reid is this nice, innocent, bookish genius who always saves the day – and has zero mommy issues, right? But he’s not. You know he said he thinks about me when he’s fucking you,” she laughed. Bianca recoiled at the words. “Does he ever get rough with you in the bedroom?”

Her face went red. “He’s never hurt me.”

“But that’s not entirely true is it? You said it yourself. He almost died in front of you. He chose drugs over you. He’s hurt you before. Maybe it didn’t leave a mark, but he’s hurt you. Maybe you know the real Spencer Reid. Just like I do.”

He bristled as she sat there in their chair, in their home, talking as if she owned the place. She didn’t belong here. She didn’t know anything about them. “Who’s the real me, Cat?” he asked.

Cat shifted her gaze to him. “The real Spencer Reid throws women against walls and hisses that he’s going to kill them. Even though you knew I was pregnant. You still hurt me.” She turned back to Bianca. “That’s right – while you painting a nursery and picking out baby names, he was throwing me against a wall and choking me. And the next day I miscarried.”

Bianca turned to look at him. The anger in his chest turned to lead, the weight of her words slamming down on him. “No. No that can’t be right. That’s not true.”

“It’s the truth,” she hissed. “Check my medical records. He might pretend to be a doting father, but he fawned over your little bundle of joy after killing my baby. He’s a murderer. Really no different from me. Or from that brother of yours.” Cat laughed sharply. “Oh, yeah. I did my research. Now that had to be fun to unpack in therapy. But it turns out all men are the same, aren’t they?”

“Bianca, I-”

“You were supposed to be different,” she said, cutting him off. She stared down at the floor of their living room. He was hurting her. He was hurting her right now. He fell back onto the couch in the living room, too tired to stay upright. “But you’re just like them. Like my father. Like Rick. Like Franklin.”

Franklin? The third name didn’t make sense. But Reid was too overwhelmed by her words to pay it much attention. She said it with such disgust and he couldn’t deny the guilt that was threatening to crush him. He wanted to sink into the floor. Had he really done that? JJ had tried to stop him but he hadn’t listened. Oh god what had he done?

“Let’s make a deal,” Cat said, grabbing the phone from Bianca’s hands. “I’ll tell you where your kid is. If you tell him exactly what you really think about him.”

Bianca closed her eyes. He could see her hands shaking. “I hate you. You’re just as bad as the others. But you hurt me. You hurt me so many times and you don’t even see it. And it doesn’t matter what I say or how much I yell at you, you’ll never see it.” He couldn’t breathe. What was happening? Where was any of this coming from? She’d only ever once spoken to him like that before. “My truth I will keep, I will not lie. You should have stayed at Milburn. It’s where you belong. Because you’re no different from any of the people you put away. You don’t deserve to be here.” She turned to stare at him. There were tears in her eyes.

And if he hadn’t known better, he would’ve assumed they meant hatred. But she’d given him a clue. My truth I will keep, I will not lie. That’s where Franklin came from. It was a line from “The Franklin’s Tale,” her favorite part of The Canterbury Tales. She’d told his mother that the day she first met Diana. It was a story she saw the two of them reflected in. Arveragus and Dorigen had a pure love based on equality and mutual respect, and when Aurelius tried to split them up, the strength of their love and their willingness to sacrifice for each other kept them together.

Bianca was trying to tell him that it was all an act. That whatever Cat was trying to do to split them up, it wasn’t going to work. Reid had to bite down on his lip to keep himself from smiling. That was his girl. His brilliant, incredible wife. He was so proud of her.

But he had to play along. “Bianca, please.”

“No. No more. I’m glad you found Cat. You two deserve each other.” She turned to Cat. “Now tell me where my daughter is, please. So I can get far away from him.” Cat typed something into the phone and handed it back. “There you go. Baby girl is alive and well. You’re welcome.”

Bianca turned on her heel and ran out to the team, leaving him stranded as he sat on the couch, staring straight ahead. Playing the part he needed play. “I win,” Cat declared. There was chaos around him as the SWAT team handcuffed Cat and Luke took off in a car with Bianca. He was loaded into the truck to sit beside Cat for the long ride back to the prison. The silence gave Cat’s words plenty of time to sink in. Regardless of Bianca’s reaction, there was a truth to what Cat had said. He’d hurt the woman he loved, and he’d done it more than once. He’d hurt so many people. And he’d caused Cat to miscarry.

He disgusted himself. It was all he could do to keep it together as Cat explained she’d just wanted to see him one last time – to make sure he wouldn’t forget about her.

She was hurting too. And maybe even scared. Her voice shook as she said, “Bye, Spencie. I really enjoyed our date.”

And then the guards were taking her away. And then Garcia and Simmons were there. “We heard you might need a ride,” Matt said. “We got Eliza. They’re both safe. We can take you to them if you want.”

“Yes. Yes, please.”

.....

He couldn’t get into that SUV fast enough. He clambered into the passenger seat, heaving a sigh.

“Rough night, huh?” Matt said, as they pulled onto the highway. Reid just shook his head.

“I thought that might be the case,” Garcia said. “Hey, boy genius. I know that you had to say some super yucky things tonight, but we briefed Bianca on it all before you went inside.”

“What? How?”

“Well, Cat had Juliette drop Bianca in the street. Cat wanted us to find her so you three could battle it out at home. The whole showdown was orchestrated – I’ll explain all the details later but to make a long story short, we figured out her endgame pretty fast. So we picked up my favorite petite poet the moment we got her location, hooked her up with a wire, took her back to your place, and told her to follow Cat’s lead and just lie as much as she had to. She would’ve made Meryl Streep proud with that performance! And then the moment Cat sent that text, we were able to swoop in and rescue little Eliza Lou from the clutches of the big bad wolf.”

“Thank you for doing all of that,” he said. “But I’m still feeling pretty horrible at the moment.”

“Is this about the miscarriage?” Garcia asked. “Because I can help you with that, too. “Cat said check the medical record and I did. She had a miscarriage, but it was months later. It had nothing to do with you. It was just a lie to throw you off. The whole team knows that, and so does Bianca.” She reached out from the backseat to put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re not a monster, no matter how badly she wants you to believe that.”

With that information, Reid’s heart lifted ever so slightly. It wasn’t true. And while it would take a while to shake this terrible feeling after everything he’d heard and said, that much was a relief. And most importantly, Bianca and Elizabeth were safe. That was all that really mattered. The day had ended with the two people he loved most alive and well. Everybody lived this time.

They arrived at the hospital and the three of them walked through the maze of corridors together trying to follow the instructions of the front-desk person. He’d left his phone back at the house so Garcia was frantically trying to text Bianca for her location. Just when he was about to declare that they were hopelessly lost, a door opened and he spotted a familiar face.

“Maybe we should go back?” Simmons asked.

“Oh wait! This should be the right hallway,” Garcia said. “Just one door on the left and Bianca should be there, and we can put this whole day behind us. No more lies or games!”

But he didn’t hear them. Because Bianca was walking towards him with the most perfect smile on her face. Her cardigan hanging loosely from her shoulders, bandages and sutures on her skin and a hospital bracelet on her wrist.

“I don’t know,” Simmons said. “I mean, that kiss – that kind of thing seems hard to fake.”

“Oh Matt,” Garcia sighed. “You haven’t seen them together enough. Watch and learn.”

Reid ran to Bianca and wrapped her in a gentle hug. “Thank god you’re okay. Where’s Eliza?”

“The doctors are talking with her to make sure she feels safe at home before we can see her. But she’s okay. We both are,” Bianca said, “thanks to you.

“You were only in danger because of me. I’m so sorry.”

Bianca held him tight. “This was Cat’s fault. Nobody else’s. And it’s over now. We’re safe.” And so they were. She gazed up at him and those brown eyes were so warm. So inviting. He raised a hand to tilt her chin towards him and then shifted to caress her cheek. A smile spread across her face and she closed her eyes as he leaned in to kiss her. Slow at first, as he tested the boundaries, worried about the bruises she bore. But she pulled grabbed his suit jacket and pulled him closer, so he deepened the kiss, savoring the taste of her lips and the sensation of her fingernails at the nape of his neck. She was still too far away, so he shifted his hands to her waist, carefully avoiding the places he knew she’d been kicked, and lifted her up, holding her against him as he spun her around, never once moving his lips from hers.

He kissed her with a passion typically reserved only for their bed or the sofa or up against the wall of the study late at night, kissed her like he couldn’t get enough of her. He didn’t care who saw them. She was safe. She was alive. He loved her, and he wanted the whole world to know that.

When they finally needed to breathe and she pulled away, he set her back on the ground only to pull her back into a hug, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I love you so much,” he murmured.

“I love you, too.”

At the end of the corridor, a dumbfounded Matt raised his eyebrows. “I see what you mean now.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Reid?” a nurse asked, poking his head into the hall. They both turned around. “You can come in now, we’ve finished talking with her. You’re all clear.” The relief on their faces were twin expressions as they dashed into the room together.

Elizabeth looked so small in the big ER bed and a hospital gown far too big for her, but she wore a huge smile. “Daddy, you’re here!” she said.

Reid hurried to her bedside, enveloping her in a hug. “I’m here. I’m right here.” He needed tangible proof that she was alright and to hold her in his arms seemed the simplest thing. His child was safe and sound, back with them where she belonged.

Bianca sat down on the bed and the little girl curled into her mother’s side while holding tight to her father’s hand. “You were so brave today, dear heart,” she said, stroking Eliza’s hair. “I’m so proud of you.”

Eliza looked up at her with wide brown eyes that mirrored her own. “I didn’t like the game,” she said. “Not fun.”

“We won’t play it ever again,” Reid promised her. There were no more games to win, no more villains to best. The doctor came in to assure them that they’d run a full exam on Elizabeth and had found nothing wrong. Juliette hadn’t hurt her. Bianca was given instructions to follow up if had any prolonged pain and then the three of them were on their way home. Garcia and Simmons gave them a ride back to their house, where Luke had driven Bianca’s car back to. By the time they arrived, Elizabeth was fast asleep.

They carried her into the blue house and up the stairs, tucking her carefully into bed and turning on her nightlight. Reid and Bianca hovered in the doorway just a moment longer, needing that extra space to remind themselves that their daughter was okay. They tiptoed downstairs where Bianca put a hot kettle on the stove for two cups of tea.

“You know,” Reid said, “I think Cat Adams was right about one thing.”

“What’s that?” Bianca asked.

“In twenty years, I won’t remember her name.” He stepped closer to her, lacing his fingers through her own. “But it won’t be because of Alzheimer’s. It’ll be because she won’t be worth remembering. I’ll have too many other memories – memories of vacations we took together and Eliza Lou’s birthdays and all of our anniversaries. Our life together. Our little girl. Cat won’t be anything but a blip on the radar. Hardly even a footnote in our story.”

“It’s finally over?”

“It’s over,” he assured her. “We don’t ever have to worry about her again.”

She smiled. “I’m sorry for everything I had to say tonight. I didn’t mean a word of it.”

“I know,” he said. “I picked up on that clue about the Franklin’s Tale. You were brilliant in there. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

The tea kettle began to whistle as she wrapped her arms around him. “It’s okay. We’re safe. We’re home. And we’re together.”

“That’s all I’ll ever need,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her.