Title: Swear
Author: angstytimelord
Pairing: Greg Sanders/Spencer Reid
Fandom: CSI/Criminal Minds
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,288
Warning: ongoing series
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Greg Sanders or Spencer Reid, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.

***

Spencer clicked off his cell phone again, looking around surreptitiously at the other members of the BAU team. Did any of them notice that he was making phone call after phone call, and never getting an answer? He was having a hard time staying calm at this point.

He had no idea where Greg was; he had tried to call his boyfriend's cell phone, as well as the land line at his apartment, and he'd left more messages than he could count. He had never felt this frantic, this afraid that if they didn't get there in time, something horrible would happen.

What was he going to do if Foyet did actually have Greg? Spencer cringed at the thought of his boyfriend suffering what most of Foyet's past victims had; he was certain that their nemesis wouldn't hesitate to kill Greg just for the pleasure he would get out of it.

All he could do was hope that they got there in time, and that Foyet hadn't been able to get to Greg first. He had no proof that Foyet was going to go after his boyfriend -- but a part of him knew that was why that madman had been heading for Vegas.

At first, Spencer had thought that it was his mother who might be in danger, but he had quickly thrown that theory away as soon as Rossi had mention English Gardens. He had told the rest of the team about the name of Greg's apartment complex, and they all agreed that Greg was the target.

It hadn't been easy for Spencer to confess to the rest of the team that he was seeing a man, and he'd had to admit that he had expected reactions of shock and horror from his teammates. But they had all been surprisingly supportive, as though his choice of a mate didn't matter.

They all seemed to understand how devastated he was by the idea of Greg being harmed; he was sure that they sympathized with him, but none of them could have any clue as to how it felt to know that if Foyet got to Greg, he could lose the person he loved forever.

He wasn't going to let that happen, Spencer vowed to himself as he flipped open his cell phone and called Greg's number again. He waited for a few seconds before the answering machine on the land line picked up; Greg was obviously not home yet, or else he was asleep.

He didn't think that his boyfriend was sleeping. He knew that Greg was still holding on to his escort job, and he was almost positive that the man he loved was out at some function that he'd been hired as arm candy for. He just hoped it was nothing more than that.

His heart leaping with hope, he tried Greg's cell number again, hoping that if his boyfriend was out with a client, that he might be on his way back home again. If he was only going to some public event with a client, that should be over by now.

"Fuck," he murmured as Greg's voice mail message played again. He'd already left six messages on the cell, and four on Greg's land line. He wasn't going to leave another one. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!" His voice grew louder each time he uttered the word -- louder and more angry.

What was happening to Greg? Where was his boyfriend? If Greg had access to his phone, he would check for messages; even if he was out at some event with a client, he would find an excuse to slip away to the restroom and call Spencer back.

It took him a moment to realize that the rest of his teammates were looking at him in horror, expressions of shock on their faces. It was only then that he came to the realization that he'd said that one word aloud -- a word that he, of all people, would never be expected to say.

Spencer ducked his head, feeling a burning blush rise into his cheeks. He didn't know what to say; he'd have to tell his teammates just why he was cursing, and at the moment, he didn't feel much like reeling out explanations about why he was so frustrated.

"I can't get Greg to pick up his phone," he said, hoping that nobody would question his momentary loss of control. "I know that he might be out with a client, but he should be done with that by now. He should be at home. I'm worried about him."

"We'll go to his apartment right away when we get there," Hotch assured him, casting Spencer a worried glance. Prentiss and JJ were still staring at him as though he'd lost his mind, and Rossi was wearing one of his worried frowns, as was Derek.

Hotch reached out to touch his shoulder when he sat down next to the older man, speaking to him softly. "We'll find Greg, Red. I swear to you, we'll find him." Hotch's voice was soft, but his tone was strong and firm; Spencer could almost believe in what he was saying.

Hotch didn't usually say things like that, he reflected as he leaned back and closed his eyes. It must have been his own uncharacteristic swearing that had made his boss use such strong terms in assuring him that they would somehow win this one, and that Greg would be safe.

Whatever had made Hotch use such strong terms, Spencer only hoped that what he had said was true, and that they would find Greg before Foyet had a chance to harm him. For all they knew, Greg could be in his clutches right now.

The thought made a wave of fear wash over Spencer again, his heart feeling as though it had stopped its rapid beating in his chest. His entire body felt as though it was being squeezed, in the clutches of some giant that was choking the air and the life out of him.

What would happen if they couldn't find Greg in time, and catch Foyet? Would he find himself kneeling by the dead body of the young man he loved, just as he had knelt by the bodies of so many victims to examine them in the past?

Spencer squeezed his eyes more tightly shut, wishing that he could block out the images that danced before his eyes. No. No. He wasn't going to lose Greg. Not that way. The two of them were going to have a long and happy life together. He had to believe that.

Greg wasn't going to be taken from him like this, ripped away coldly and cruelly by a man who shouldn't even have been able to get out of jail. He wasn't going to let Foyet win this time. They were going to catch him, and this time, they'd make sure that he stayed where he belonged.

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, glad to see that everyone had returned to what they were doing and wasn't staring at him in horror any longer. But he could swear that he still saw looks of shock on their faces, and he was sure that they'd remember this day for a long time to come.

***