Title: Weekend with the Past
By: criminally-dirty-mind
Pairing: Reid/OFC
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: this story was written a long time ago, so it is based on the season one team, no knowledge of the Elle drama.
Legal shit: I own nothing but my two very spoiled dogs, so unless you want to keep them in the life they've become accustomed to, don't sue me.
Summary: Reid does a favor for an old advisor involving his first crush. Posted long ago on another site, but seriously undergone rewrites since.

***

Chapter 1- day dreaming

Dr. Spencer Reid sat at his desk, slightly more on edge than usual. For the first time since he began working at the B.A.U. he was in a hurry to get out of the office for a personal reason. Spencer, as he did often, let his mind wander into a daydream to help pass the time.

A younger Spencer Reid was sitting on a bench outside the bookstore on a college campus. He was quickly reading a text book for a class he was thinking about taking in a few semesters when a man approached him unnoticed. "Behold, the great Dr. Spencer Reid." Spencer looked up somewhat flustered, and noticed looming over him, one of his doctoral advisors. He flushed and jumped up to shake his hand dropping the notebook he had forgotten was in his lap. When he bent down to pick it up, another hand beat him to the punch. As his eyes trailed up the arm, they landed on the face of a beautiful young woman. She looked about his age, which was odd for a college campus, maybe an incoming freshman, and she was smiling at him. "Um, uh, um…thanks" he finally spit out somewhat quietly.

"No problem," she smiled. "My daughter, Delaney." His professor added to the conversation as he slipped an arm around her. "Delaney, this is my prodigy. The young man I have been talking about." "Nice to meet you," she said, and offered her hand, this time to shake his intentionally. The thought of touching her, scared him, but he knew if he didn't offer his hand she was bound to think he was more of a freak than she already did. 'Over thinking it Spencer…' he told himself reaching slowly for her hand.

Suddenly his hand began to sting, and he quickly realized it was not from Delaney's touch. He was jostled back to reality just as Morgan sent another rubber band at him with rather amazing force. "What was that for?" Reid asked. "Wake up Reid, visiting your home planet?" "Shut up," Spencer replied and refocused his attention on the file he was pretending to read. "I know you aren't reading that, you haven't turned the page in over a minute, and we all know how fast you can read. What ya thinkin' about kid?" Morgan prodded.

Deciding that talking to Morgan was the only way he was going to get him off his back, Reid looked up, glared at him and replied "Just ready for the weekend." Morgan didn't buy it, and pushed "Thinking about Miss Hollywood?" Reid rolled his eyes and got up quickly to go into the break room. Morgan hollered at him as he walked by "It's ok to dream Reid, but eventually you are gonna have to get the real thing!"

***

Chapter 2- the proposition

When Spencer returned to his desk he didn't see Morgan and hoped the whole thing had blown over. He finished reading the file, put it away and checked the clock, hoping it was five. Fifteen minutes he told himself…fifteen minutes and you will be out of here, and on to what could be the best, (or maybe worst should you act like the idiot you are,) weekend of your life. He opened the folded email he had printed out and read it for the thousandth time, verifying details. He could have recited it, comma placement and all, but somehow, flustered as he was, print was helpful to focus.

Dear Spencer,

I was hoping you could do me a huge favor. As you might know, my daughter Delaney has just graduated with her B.S. in political science (at the top of her class!!!). She has been offered a position with the Human Rights Campaign in Washington D.C. and will be flying out for the weekend in two weeks to see the city, to meet with her future employee, and find somewhere appropriate and safe to live. She has never been alone in such a dangerous place, is utterly trusting, and is my only child. If you are not too busy with a case, or some other insanely important issue, I was hoping you might spend the weekend in D.C. with her and make sure she gets along ok, and more importantly gets home safe to me. I would come with her myself but my wife has assured me that our daughter is a grown woman who can handle herself, which is, of course, why I am expecting you to monitor her every move. I would be willing to compensate you financially, or offer you even higher praise in the academic world than I already give should you agree. I wouldn't ask, but it isn't every day a man can ask a brilliant F.B.I. agent to look after his only daughter for him.

Thank-you in Advance,

Dr. Marcus Harris

Spencer had of course responded that he would be happy to help in any way that he could, without financial or academic compensation, and simply asked for a copy of her schedule so that he would know when to meet her. His heart had skipped a beat at the thought of seeing Delaney again. He fondly remembered how she treated him as though he were normal when she came home from high school and found him sitting on the floor of his fathers den, deep in thought over some text book. She would bring him drinks and food when he lost track of time and forgot to eat, and even invited him to a high school party once. He didn't go because he was knee deep in his third thesis, but he cherished the invite as if it were a metal proving normalcy. She had always been beautiful and completely unafraid to speak her mind. Traits he convinced himself were more important to him than the way her legs looked in her volleyball uniform or the curves her bikini did little to hide. He had been so pleased when she wrote him back herself.

Dr. Reid (can I call you Spencer?) Hey. I was glad to hear that my dad had contacted you about being my chaperone in the big city, but I hope you didn't feel pressured into it. I could use a guide, wouldn't mind some friendly company, and what girl doesn't want to be lead around town by a dr. who carries a gun? ha ha ha. Anyway, I digress…pick me up on Friday at the airport. Gate 12, 9:15, flight 756. I'll wear a pink ribbon in my hair or something equally absurd so you'll recognize me! See you then! Delaney

Spencer wouldn't need the ribbon to pick her out. Her face often found its way into his daydreams. When he needed good memories to cloud out the degradation he witnessed for a living, her smiling across her parents' dinner table was often enough. People changed as they aged, but he was sure her eyes, at least, would be the same…again his thought process was disrupted, this time by Derek Morgan flopping down on his desk and almost knocking over his pen holder. "What are you doing this weekend Reid?" Morgan asked.

"Um…well, I…" this was going to be tough; Spencer was a horrible liar… "I am…going to catch up on some reading and sleep." Morgan bought it "You are such a nerd sometimes. Why don't you go out with me and we will find someone to get your mind off that actress?" Spencer didn't need his mind off the actress, he needed it off of someone else. He needed to be thinking of this weekend as professional payback for the many kind deeds of a great teacher, rather than as a chance to see a girl he had wanted since the moment he laid eyes on her. This, he could not tell Morgan, so he muttered "I can't. I have a conference to prepare for, and…" "Reid, being a brilliant twenty-something ends when you hit thirty. You should really live it up now. I can think of plenty of hot young women who would love to tell their friends they hooked up with a Doctor and an F.B.I. agent to boot!" "I am not interested in hot young women." As soon as he said it Spencer knew he was in trouble… "Oh, well I could also introduce you to some hot young men!" he began to laugh uncontrollably, and Spencer couldn't take it any more. "Please tell Gideon I had to leave early, something in here isn't agreeing with my stomach." He grabbed his bag and coat and headed for the elevator, no longer caring about sticking it out until five o'clock. Little did he know that in his hurry, he had forgotten the email print-out and a very nosey Derek Morgan at his desk.

***

Chapter 3- the getaway

Spencer got in his car and drove home, the whole time thinking, 'great, next week, they will all be teasing me about being gay.' As soon as he got home however, his mind began racing in a different direction. He set his satchel down and quickly ran upstairs to grab his already packed suitcase. Spencer was going to D.C. for the weekend. He was meeting her there, and he could not have been more excited at the thought of spending an entire weekend alone with her.

By the time he arrived at the airport, her flight should already have landed. Cursing traffic, and not getting gas before work, Spencer rushed to find a sign to tell him where she would be. Moments later, he attempted to look composed as people were unloading from the flight which had thankfully been delayed. Suddenly, there she was, as beautiful as he ever remembered her being. She stood before him a confident woman scanning the crowd, no longer the high school girl who haunted his dreams. She recognized him as soon as their eyes met, which was disheartening. An old high school classmate had told him recently he looked the same as he did at age twelve as a high school grad. He hoped he had grown into a man, a doctor and an F.B.I. agent. She cast the same sweet smile at him, making him lose his train of thought. The only thing he could focus on was the pale pink ribbon hanging from her pony-tail.

"Spencer?" she asked. "Hi," was all he could get out. He noticed the hope in her tone, the smile you could tell she was wearing, even if you couldn't see her face, and the fullness of her lips, which he couldn't seem to stop looking at. "Thank-you so much for agreeing to meet me! I know my dad can be bothersome and over protective, but he insisted, and truth be told, I am glad to have someone to show me the ropes. Sorry if it is putting a crimp in your weekend plans." "No, no…" he insisted trying to concentrate on her words and not her body… "I am happy to be of assistance. Your father got me through my second Ph.D., well your whole family did. I practically lived in his study."

"Yeah, I remember. He was so impressed with you, we all were I guess. He finally got me through my B.S." she laughed, and he was instantly charmed. "Yeah, congratulations on graduating top of your class," he thought out loud. "Aw, thanks, not that a four point over five years to get a bachelors could possibly be impressive to someone like you," she joked as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Shall we get your luggage and go to the hotel?" he asked, quick to prevent an awkward silence. "Yeah," she said, and the two walked in a comfortable quiet to the luggage claim, and then to his car. He did not expect her bag to be so heavy, what could she have packed for a weekend that would weigh so much? Shoes he told himself, Morgan was always teasing Elle about shoes…

Driving to the hotel she mostly looked out the windows as he rambled off odd facts about different buildings and places in the capitol they passed. She actually seemed interested, and he was grateful to issue facts rather than have to try to manage small talk. Though he had prepared a mental list of safe subjects, and rehearsed conversations with his mirror, he doubted he would be as charming when faced with her smile. He swallowed hard, silently saying a prayer that she didn't pack any low cut shirts.

***

Chapter 4- the piano bar

After they checked in, Delaney invited Spencer for a drink in the hotel bar. Despite his mental resolve to say no, he accepted and agreed to meet her there after a few minutes to settle into their rooms. Talking to himself in the mirror, he began to panic, 'What does that mean, 'Wanna get a drink with me in the hotel bar?' What should I drink, what should I say?' Berating himself for agreeing to this weekend at all, he straightened his hair, took a deep breath and headed to the elevator. At the bar he wasn't surprised he beat her there. Whenever Elle and J.J. said they needed to freshen up first he usually watched Morgan drink as least 2 beers waiting for them.

He ordered ginger ale, and found a corner table near the piano player. He made a mental note that he was a better pianist than the man, but that he wouldn't look as nice in a tux. He began to break down the probability that the pianist's looks had gotten him hired rather than his talent, but was caught mid-thought when Delaney walked into the bar in a little black dress. Her long blonde hair now fell loose over her shoulders, and her tan legs glistened for miles into her strappy heels. She smiled when her eyes settled on him, and for an instant he wondered if she was really moving in slow motion or if his brain simply couldn't keep up with the swish in her hips.

Spencer remembering his manners at the last second jumped up, nearly spilling his drink, while reaching to pull out her chair. "Thanks," she almost whispered. He remained standing trying to focus long enough to remember the next appropriate step. "Can I get you a drink?" he asked. "Yes, thanks. Gin and tonic, double lime please." He walked to the bar and ordered. Watching her while he waited he followed her eyes to the pianist and fought an irrational rush of jealousy. For all he knew, she was engaged to a professional football player or a tattoo artist with a free spirit, but in his moment of jealousy, he decided that the pianist was definitely hired for the way he looked in the tux. Further more, he decided he would share his professional opinion with Delaney should he came up in conversation.

"Thanks again," she laughed as he handed her the drink. "What are you drinking?" "Um, ginger ale actually," he said. "Do you not drink?" she asked him. "No, not often," he admitted. She laughed… "Well…thanks for having a drink with me anyway. What do you think of the pianist?" "It's nice," he said out loud, sure to add 'how good he looks in that tux' in his mind. "I think you could do better," she said catching him off guard. "What?" he asked a little shocked, but more pleased than he cared to admit. "I remember you playing for my mom. She loved it. You were really good Spencer. Do you still play?" "Sometimes," he answered, with a thoughtful expression. "Do you still sing while you do the dishes?" He couldn't believe he had just said that out loud. She smiled, and laughed. Tilting her glass she coolly replied, "Nope, only when I am in the shower." Spencer almost choked on his drink, and her smile forced a grin to his reddening face as well.

After she finished her drink she noticed his yawn, and opted to end the evening. They walked to the elevator in silence, his mind wandering all over her body the way he wished his hands were. He wondered what her skin felt like, and didn't have to wait long for an answer, she brushed against him gently as they got in the elevator. For an instant, from her downward facing smile, he wondered if she had done it on purpose. She stood right at his side, though they were alone in the elevator. The smell of her hair was enough to make him wish for a hot embrace or a cold shower. When the door finally opened on their floor he walked her to her room, turned quickly to hide in his, muttering 'goodnight' as he turned away.

"Spencer?" her soft voice causing his breath to catch in his throat. Slowly, he turned unaware of how close she was behind him. "Thanks, really, for everything. I know you didn't have to do this, but I have to admit, I have never been more glad to have such an over protective father. I've missed you. Seeing you again reminded me of that." He was sure his cheeks were crimson, and that his heart might burst her ear drums as she gently leaned in and kissed his cheek. All he could do to keep his composure was turn and slide wordlessly into his room.

He had never been more thankful for a cold shower. As he played her words over and over in his head, he couldn't help but think, 'Maybe you aren't totally hopeless. Maybe being a young doctor/F.B.I. agent is a draw to some beautiful young women. Maybe Spencer, you have a chance.' After getting comfortable in the hotel bed, Spencer Reid went to sleep with a smile on his face, and an erection in his briefs.

***

Chapter 5- the tour guide

Spencer woke in the morning, and took a moment to gather his bearings and face reality. For six years he had dreamed kissing Delaney, about doing much more explicit things with Delaney, and last night, she had actually told him she missed him. She had actually kissed him on the cheek. With a new found confidence, he dressed. Spencer had never been a man overly concerned about his appearance, but for the first time in a long time, he paused in the mirror wondering how he would look to her at breakfast.

Delaney walked into the lobby in rolled up khaki capris, a black fitted t-shirt, and all red accessories, a chunky necklace, a little clutch, and flip-flops. Spencer smiled while he watched her, she hadn't spotted him yet, and he took the opportunity to check out her whole package. "Hey, too much?" she asked, and he hoped she hadn't noticed him staring at her chest. "No, you look great," he said, and he noticed a glint of satisfaction in her eyes, though he imagined plenty of men better than himself had told her that before.

Soon they were walking down the road to a café Spencer knew, in a comfortable silence, and Spencer's minds wandered to what people passing them on the street would think. Would people see them as a couple? Would people assume they were siblings or strangers…no, they were walking too close to be strangers…business associates maybe? When Spencer went somewhere with J.J., the only other beautiful blonde he had ever spent time with outside of an office, he assumed people could tell they were co-workers because of their body language. Delaney was walking close to him and talking quietly about an article on d.c. she had read online. She was looking him in the eye and smiling as she spoke to him, as though she honestly wanted him to enjoy her story. Spencer smiled, savoring the idea that passersby might easily mistake them as a couple.

They spent most of the morning site-seeing, eventually jumping on a tour bus to get a quicker look around downtown. Out of compulsion he interrupted the tour guide every time he misquoted or gave an incorrect figure, and was relieved that Delaney seemed amused rather than embarrassed when the tour guide finally quit giving details at all. When the tour ended, they walked around, looking for a place to eat lunch. She kept insisting on taking pictures of him standing places, and he took a few of her acting silly in front of statues, or pretending to kiss busts of the presidents. Then, she stopped a passerby without hesitation and asked them to take a shot of the two of them together in front of the Lincoln memorial. He stood with his hands in his pockets and put on his best smile, until the woman said "Oh, come on; hug your girlfriend for the picture!" He blushed, and started to correct her when Delaney said "Yeah, hug your girlfriend for the picture," and threw an arm around him. He put his arm around her, shyly, and failed miserable at hiding his excited at the warmth of her body, and the way his fingers lightly dusted the curve of her hip. "One more, Please!" Delaney begged the lady as she quickly turned and posed kissing Spencer's cheek. "Wonderful!" the lady said as she returned her camera. As they checked out the pictures, both laughed. Spencer looked either horrified or mortified in the shot of her lips touching his skin.

***

Chapter 6- friends celebrate

At lunch Delaney begged Spencer to call her Dee, and threatened to call him Dr. Reid for the remainder of the weekend if he didn't. "My friends call me Dee, and I hope we can be friends, you being the only person I know in the area and all!" He agreed, and couldn't help but smile every time he had an excuse to say Dee out loud. To him, nicknames were terms of endearment, and he felt privileged that she would include him. He liked the idea that he had somehow earned the right to call her Dee, and loved how eager she had been to call them friends. "Besides, when I have something to celebrate and no one to take me out to dinner, I'll expect you to once again drop everything and come down here since you owe my father so much and blah blah blah." Spencer hoped she was serious; he would kill for another chance to go out with her. "Are you going to come out to Quantico when I have something to celebrate?" he asked, shocking himself with his boldness. Maybe those conversations in the mirror had paid off after all. "I would love to!" she replied, and her response froze a permanent smile on his face for the remainder of the day.

They spent the afternoon looking at apartments the two had picked out in ads on the computer, and finally found one she liked that he approved of security wise. They met with the land-lord, Spencer quickly read the fine print and approved of the paper work, so after a quick call to her parents, she signed the lease and paid a deposit. "Looks like tonight will be time for our first celebratory dinner!" she laughed.

By five they headed back to the hotel so she could change and prepare to meet her future boss. They had agreed to meet for after work drinks and sign contracts etc. to make her an official employee. She agreed to call Spencer upon her return to the hotel, and promised she would try not to be long, though she was sure he would be happy for a least a little time without her. He vehemently denied this, wishing her luck as her door shut behind her.

Spencer spent the two hours it turned out to take her rehearsing conversation topics and arguing with himself about which tie to wear. He called Gideon for a restaurant recommendation, and Gideon offered him the name of a matri-d whose daughter they had rescued from a kidnapper at a five star restaurant in the area, and assured him they would be able to give him a reservation. Gideon, though unaware of the specifics of Reid's situation, offered encouragement; "Order wine, pull out her chair, and tell her the chicken is amazing." "How did you…" "Spencer, you've never left work early, you've never asked me for a restaurant recommendation, and you have never sounded so flustered. Just be yourself and she'll love you for it," Gideon replied and then hung up before Spencer could respond.

When Delaney arrived back at the hotel she buzzed Spencer to let him know she would be ready for dinner momentarily and briefly assured him that he meeting had gone well. He told her he had made reservations, and basked in the smile he could hear in her response. "Wow, all grown up with somewhere to go!" she joked, "Meet you in the lobby in twenty." He laughed as he hung up the phone. He so often forgot how young he was because of the age of his peers. She was so vibrant; she radiated youth and spoke volumes of feminine charm. He was enticed, seduced and infatuated with every aspect of her he had witnessed.

Right on time, Spencer noted as the elevator opened to the almost empty lobby. He wondered what she would be wearing as he checked his watch. She walked into the lobby in the same black dress she had worn the night before, and all the red accessories she had worn earlier in the day. He marveled for a moment at the ability women had to make simple changes seem wholly unique. She looked beautiful, and his smile told her he thought so. "I am starving," she said as she linked her arm with his. He instantly become rigid from the shock of sudden contact, but loosened almost immediately to her touch. He hailed a cab, and they headed to the restaurant, which to his embarrassment turned out to be right around the block.

After the bottle of wine Gideon told him to order arrived she began…"I can't believe I am starting my adult life next month," she mused. "How did you do it so young? I mean, I am just one year younger than you, and look at where we are in our lives. You have a career, and three doctorates. I just got my B.S. and am for the first time starting a life. Real job, new city, new friends," she paused, smiling sweetly at him. "It will come to you," he offered as advice. "I wasn't ready for it really, but sometimes life makes choices for you. I never asked to be on the fast track my life has always been. Still, I couldn't be happier with where it has lead me." "You are so sure of who you are," she observed, "but you are still quick to blush," she teased. "It has always amazed me how you skate the thin line so well between self-sufficient and vulnerable." Her 'profile' made him wonder just how much thought she had given him over the years. It showed a complex and deep understanding of him. Understanding so complete he wasn't sure it was rivaled by anyone save Gideon. When he finally managed his thoughts and looked back up, their eyes met. He smiled at her, the moment lost when the waiter appeared and handed him the bill.

Their conversation picked back on as they walked back to the hotel. He had begun to hail a cab, when she slid her arm into his once again and almost whispered, "Let's just walk." He nodded, and began to lead her down the sidewalk, swept away as much by the summer breeze as by her touch. "I am sorry; I didn't mean to embarrass you," she began. "It's just that when I was in high school, and you were always around, I had the biggest crush on you. My father always talked about how you were so…perfect…but I think it was your imperfections that drew me in." "What imperfections?" he half joked, genuinely curious. "I guess every girl wants a man she can fix in some small way. I mean, I wanted to make you more normal. To bring you to a party, or make-out with you at the drive-in, or dance with you at the prom…but you were so smart…and so busy with your studies, that I figured only that made you happy." "No," he said, "all of those things would have made me happy. I just didn't know they were options. At the time I thought all I could do was get my degrees and get out into the world where adults might actually respect me and there wouldn't be any other kids to pick on me. I told your father once that I wished I could go to the prom, and I thought that's why you asked me to go to that party with you, that he had made you invite me."

She paused, and he turned to face her. "Spencer, my dad never told me…I think he knew how I felt about you. He was probably worried I would destroy your mind with filthy pre-pubescent thoughts." "You did destroy my mind with filthy pre-pubescent thoughts," he remarked, eliciting a small laugh. By the time they reached the hotel, he felt certain that onlookers would see them as a couple. An unexplained smile covered his face as he held one hand in the small of her back while she passed through the door he held open for her.

***

Chapter 7- the night cap

"How about a night cap?" she asked turning to face him. "Sure," he agreed changing his course towards the bar. "No, I can't take another night of bad piano playing. What say we hit up the mini-bar in my room?" "OK," he agreed and they walked towards the elevator. Without knowing it, his hand had fallen to the small of her back as though this was its natural position. In the elevator she leaned into him tired from an eventful day, his arm sliding around her waist. No words were exchanged as he followed her into her room. He noticed her open suitcase, heavy because it was full of books, not shoes. His smile broadened when he saw that most were about D.C., the F.B.I., and profiling serial killers. Apparently she did her homework better now than he ever remembered her doing it in high school, he smiled to himself.

"So…since you don't drink, coke or water?" "Um, Coke would be great," he said, deciding to be bold and sit on the loveseat so that should she choose to sit by him she would be very close. As he hoped, she handed him a can, kicking off her flip-flops and sliding onto the cushion next to him. She flipped on CNN, but the TV was not his focus. "Spencer?" she asked, as she turned to look at him. "I had a huge crush on you then," he spit out before he could stop himself. "Yeah?" she asked, and then laughed. "But I never told you because I knew that was the reaction I'd get," he winced prepared for a 'I thought we could be friends' response. "Spencer, it isn't the reaction you deserved, I am just pleased. Sorry…" she whispered. When his eyes returned to her, she leaned forward.

She was kissing him. He was only ninety six percent sure it was real, and even his mind could not process any facts to calm him. She leaned in more, and his hands went automatically to her face. He felt her fingers go into his hair, and she whimpered into his mouth. "Spencer…" she mumbled as he began to kiss her neck and chin. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked, suddenly realizing that was likely what she wanted. "NO!" she almost yelled…they both giggled. "no…please…" she said, beginning again to kiss him. Moments passed, deep with passion, hot with desire. She freed her arms from the tangle and slowly unzipped her dress the top sliding to reveal perfect breasts barely hidden beneath a red lace bra. She whimpered as he forged a path with kisses down her shoulder until gently, he found a nipple through the fabric.

She pulled away, slipping off his lap and tugging his hand, leading him to her bed. She slipped out of her dress revealing matching boy-shorts that hid nothing from the imagination. She slid onto the edge of the bed and pulled him to her, removing his shirt slowly. She took her time, planting a soft kiss just above each button as she undid it, until both of her hands slid the shirt off his shoulders and met again at his belt buckle. He released a moan, as she released his belt. Her hands pressing his pants and his briefs towards his ankles, until his already hard cock sprung out against his stomach. Spencer's mind was failing him. He had been with women before, not often, but he had. Still, it had never felt like this, he was scared by this new lack of control, and engulfed in the heat of the encounter.

She kissed his stomach gently, working hard not to touch his manhood with her lips, but sure that her breath against him sent shivers up his spine. Slowly working her way down, and up again along the side of his groin, finally, methodically, taking his head into her mouth. He had to force himself to exhale but could not control the urge to thrust towards her, wanting the warmth of her mouth. She used her hands and cupped him, slowly taking all of him in, and rolling her palm around him while she sliding smoothly deeper on his manhood.

She pulled away, and began to work her way back up his body. She paused to kiss his flat stomach, stopped to nip at his nipple, leaving her teeth mark on his shoulder, until he could take no more and recaptured her mouth with his own. She pulled him on over her, forcing his weight between her thighs. He slid her back on the bed, lifting her hips to free her panties as he did. Every inch of their bodies touched, and through his kisses she managed only, "please."

He placed himself at her ready opening and pressed into her with a forceful thrust. She cried out, her head pressing into the pillows. He paused, not wanting to hurt her, before sliding partially out before pushing all the way into her again. Slowly at first, but rapidly growing faster, he pumped in and out of her. Her legs circled his hips, her hands clawed at his shoulders, her eyes closed; she bit her lower lip and whimpered softly with each deep thrust. He quickly realized it was as much from pleasure as pain. The pent up desire, the sexual tension of a decade spilled out, and he knew he would not last long. For years he had dreamed of this act, the sting of her nails the only thing reminding him it was finally reality. So much emotion accompanied by immense physical pleasure filled his mind, his entire body. He felt himself tense; his breathing was no longer something he controlled, as she cried out with pleasure, their lips met. One last thrust and her body fell limp beneath him, his muscles giving way as he struggled to catch his breath.

As sunlight poured through the sheer window coverings, Spencer lay still, trying to process everything that had happened. His thoughts quickly silenced, when she stirred, her hair falling into his face. He memorized the smell, incase he thought it was the last time he would know it this close. "Morning," she yawned, kissing his chest as she slipped out of bed, showing no inhibition as she slid naked into the bathroom. She paused at the door, "I gonna shower, you're welcome to join me."

He lay in the bed speechless, and laughed as he rolled to the edge of the bed. Morgan would never believe Spencer Reid speechless. As he slid into the shower behind her, he took a moment to memorize her form. She was beautiful. Her curves were petite, but amazingly symmetrical, her hair begged him to slide his fingers through it, and as she turned to face him with a smile he admired again her lips. Her full lips that captured his in a light yet passionate kiss; this is what he knew he would love most about her.

She playfully teased him tossing him a towel as she brushed her hair in the mirror. As he dressed time forced him to say what he feared to hear. "I should go pack and get ready. You have to be at the airport in," checking his watch which seemed to betray him, "in less than four hours." For the first time since her arrival, her smile faded. "Yeah," she whispered, stepping to him. "Stop by here when you are ready? Shouldn't take me more than thirty minutes." He nodded, daring to kiss her one more time before heading to his room.

***

Chapter 8- the goodbye

Thirty nine minutes later he stood outside her door not wanting to knock, his bag setting beside him on the floor. His ability to hold back time failed him, and when she opened the door, the sight of her suitcases piled neatly behind her made his heart want to stop. He forced a smile, "I thought maybe we could do lunch outside the Smithsonian before I take you to the airport?" "Sounds great," she replied with a smile. "But you should know that I am kind of a museum freak, so if you are gonna tease me with it now, know that you are promising me a full tour later." "It's a deal," he agreed. "No," she corrected him, "it's a date."

Luggage loaded, check-out complete he smiled when she took his hand as they walked to his car. They found a beautiful spot in the garden, next to an a la carte which they found out served pretty amazing ham and cheese hoagies. They sat on a cement bench, and he listened while she told him all the details of her meeting with the boss they had completely ignored the night before. "So, you'll be here for good in 63 days," he mentioned, clearing his throat. She smiled, "oh, is that all?" she teased leaning in to place a light kiss on his unsuspecting lips. Several times she asked people to take their pictures, and despite his objection she held the camera away and made him push the button to take a picture while they kissed.

The drive to the airport was somber at best, his natural doubt returning that he might never talk to her again. Spencer wished for a moment he was more like Morgan, able to write off experiences as fond memories and move on to the next best thing. He cringed at the thought of Morgan sharing the weekend with Delaney, which must have showed on his face. She laughed at his expression which startled him out of his own little world. His smile returned as she leaned in, linking her fingers with his hand resting on the console.

At the airport she checked her bags, and faced him waiting for him to say anything. He could think of nothing, so he just smiled. She took his hand, and reaching in her pocket left the pink ribbon she had worn in her hair dangling from his palm. He laughed out loud as he thought about how long ago that seemed. Sliding his arms around her, she leaned into the embrace, neither one ready to let go or say goodbye. They stood nose to nose for a moment, her on her tip-toes, before she broke the silence, "It is going to be a long 63 days. I know as soon as I get on the plane you are supposed to call dad and give him a play by play report, but maybe for his sake you could leave out a few scenes." Spencer smiled, "You don't think he'd approve?" She laughed, "No, he'd probably be thrilled actually. But he would also begin to plan the wedding." He feigned a pained face. "Call me when you land. I promise I will give your father a glowing review, but not one that gives away the ending." He kissed her again, and then watched her disappear into the crowded terminal. He lingered a moment longer, calculating hours, minutes and seconds until he might kiss her again.

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Chapter 9- back to the real world

On the drive home, Spencer indulged in uncharacteristically loud music, and rolled down his windows allowing the breeze to wash over him. Once unpacked, he settled back into his routine, but was happily interrupted when his phone displayed her number. She assured him her flight had been fine, whispered that her mother had noticed a slight discoloration on her neck she hoped she wouldn't have to explain, and promised to email him pictures before she went to bed. "Dee," he whispered, "sweet dreams." "Not gonna be a problem, talk to you tomorrow," she replied, the line clicking as if agreeing with her cool nature.

Spencer went to bed, prepared for dreams enriched with the details he now had. He smiled as he remember the freckles the lightly spread across her nose that were only visible if you were millimeters from her face, the little mole on the bottom of her right foot, the small tattoo of a star on her left hip, the taste of her skin, and the feel of her nails on his back. All of these things added to his reoccurring fantasy, and he released himself with these thoughts in his head, before slipping under the covers to continue the dream.

The next morning as he entered the office, a new sense of happiness seemed to flow from him. Garcia asked him what he ate for breakfast to make him so damn cheery, and J.J. couldn't stop returning his innocent smiles. Spencer was just settling in to his desk when he noticed he had an email. He smiled as the file opened containing pictures from the weekend. Just as he reached the end of the slide show, the shot of their kiss, Morgan interrupted his focus. "Damn Reid, she is FINE! Showing the teacher's daughter around aint so bad is it?" "What?" Spencer asked jerking around to look at him, "How did you…" "I'm an F.B.I. agent Reid. I also happen to be a professional lady killer, which is how I know you got some lovin'! As a man, I have to say congrats, she is FINE! Tell me all about it!" "Who's fine?" Garcia and J.J. both asked in unison hurrying to get in on the gossip. 'Well,' thought Spencer, 'at least they aren't all talking about how I am gay.'

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