"You don't like me, do you?"
"Wow. Nothing gets past you, Sherlock. Do you keep one of those magnifying glasses tucked away in that little vest of yours?"
•••
Lydia Beowulf works for the Hostage Response T...
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The jet ride back from California was quiet. The soft hum from the plane engine lulled almost everyone to sleep. Spencer sprawled out on the bench that lined the plane wall. Morgan letting the boy genius' legs rest in his lap as his head tilted back with soft snores escaping his agape mouth. Hotch sat in the corner of the plane quietly shuffling papers, while Rossi sat across from him dozing off.
The only ones who had active minds were Lydia, JJ, and Emily. Lydia sat next to JJ in the window seat, which they lightheartedly bickered against. Lydia complained that she gets claustrophobic next to the window, and JJ claimed she would get motion sick. Both of which were not true, they were just picky. Emily, who sat across from them, made them flip a coin for the outer seat.
Emily and JJ were chatting quietly, as to not wake the men who were sleeping just across from them. They wouldn't hear the end of it if they intervened in their slumber.
Every now and then the girls would include Lydia in their pandering by asking questions or gesturing to her in some way. But the brunette's mind was else where.
Since the night she spent with Spencer, he had been acting more distant than he usually would. They hadn't discussed any part of it, as it almost felt like it didn't actually happen. In fact, they had barely interacted.
He was patient and understanding with her that night. Even tried to make her smile. And that was something she wouldn't have expected of him in a million years.
It was jarring to her. This game of whether or not they were going to be nice to each other or not. She never knew what he wanted. She didn't even know what she wanted.
She shared that same chivalry toward him. Even though he had alcohol in her system, she smiled and tried to make him feel joy on his birthday. It was odd to her how natural it felt and how it seemed like that was how it was always supposed to be.
She had so many questions, but one stood out most to her. What had changed?
Every time this thought crept into her mind, she immediately pushed it away with one phrase. He never truly apologized. For any of it. For undermining her skills. For insulting her. For questioning her judgment. And she hadn't either. So they could never truly call a truce if they still had an inkling of resentment toward each other.
She had told him to apologize when he truly meant it and she would do the same. And she was fully intending on apologizing when it felt right to her. But a simple pick me up and longing glance in her living room wasn't enough for her to push her pride aside.
The uncertainty she held with her relationship to him was even more complex with the lack of communication they'd share over the previous weeks. And she didn't even know why he was being distant.
