"That's the problem with drinking, I thought, as I poured myself a drink. If something bad happens you drink in an attempt to forget; if something good happens you drink in order to celebrate; and if nothing happens you drink to make something happen." ~ Charles Bukowski
The Daughter
"I just thought I'd stop by and see if you were okay before we leave. Spencer said something about you both staying behind until tomorrow?" My dad asked, entering my hotel room without asking.
I smirked and rubbed at my forehead, nodding as I followed him into the room.
"That's right, he volunteered to stay behind with me."
"How sweet." I frowned at his sour tone and narrowed my eyes.
"You're the one that's insisted on the pair of us making up. This is the first step at burying the hatchet, dad." There was a pause as we both looked at each other.
"Yeah. Okay. How's your shoulder?" He asked eventually.
I sighed and shook my head, deciding to just forget it. My headache wasn't improving much and the last thing I needed was another argument with my dad.
"Painful." I admitted bluntly.
"Did they give you any pain-killers?"
"Yeah some. They're not helping though."
"Maybe due to the fact you're drinking with them," He said, looking pointedly at the glass of whiskey on the table. "I didn't know you drank whiskey." He said bluntly.
"Is this going to turn into a lecture? Because if so, you have to tell me now so I can drink more whiskey first." I said, scrambling off the edge of the bed to reach the whiskey glass on the table.
"Melanie I'm only short with you because I can see what you're doing."
"What's that dad?" I sighed in defeat, sipping my whiskey and trying not to gag.
"The last thing I want is this to turn into an argument."
"Who's arguing? I don't have the energy to argue."
"And that's exactly my point Melanie," He smirked but without humour, putting himself closest to the door for an easy escape as soon as possible.
"You're running yourself so dry that you can't see how terrible this night is going to turn out. When you get back to New York it'll be the exact same as it's been all month; you'll be exhausted and distracted and too thoughtful to put yourself in the field because you'll be worrying over what the Hell happened with Spencer."
"There it is! The elephant in the room," I groaned. I pinched my nose and then hissed at the pain I felt. I shook my head and turned my heavy eyes onto my dad.
"Dad, I love you. Very much. And I respect you and your judgement. But please. I need to do this. I need to get over Spencer and maybe by meeting on neutral ground and sorting through things, we can do that." He shrugged his shoulders in defeat. Evidently, I hadn't sold him on the whole 'I'm alright' thing.
"Take it easy Mel, be careful." He said, reaching forward and pressing a light kiss to my forehead.
"Have a safe flight." I said with a thick voice, watching as he waved halfheartedly and left the hotel room.
What was I doing?
Even my dad was getting tired of the shenanigans between Spencer and I. At this rate, I was going to drive him into early retirement in the Bahamas.
I laughed aloud at the thought of my dad, Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner kicking back on a sun lounger with a cocktail; no avenging Unsubs or desperate agents whirling around him.
Nah, that just wasn't him.
A few moments later my phone started ringing on the table. After checking the caller ID I answered it to Spencer.
"Hi."
"I was expecting a formal 'Hotchner', none of that this evening?" He chuckled. Had he started drinking too?
"I have the night off." I said sarcastically.
"Oh of course," I heard him puffing and knew he was outside. "I'm downstairs having a smoke. I wondered if you fancied having a drink at the bar or something?" I nodded my head, swirling the small drop of whiskey left in my glass.
"Sure, I've drunk the mini-bar dry anyway." He laughed but little did he know that I really wasn't kidding. That thing only stocked three miniatures.
"Alright. I'm on the back patio. Just come out whenever you're down here."
I looked at my reflection in the mirror, peering at my wild hair and nose-bandage. I really did look a joke.
Wincing I peeled the bandage from my nose and gently applied the thinnest layers of cream. There was no way I was going downstairs to a bar with a bloody nose bandage.
I contemplated freeing my mass of hair from its band but decided against the idea. God knows what the humidity would've made it look like.
Sighing I pulled a thick jumper over my head and slid into my tennis shoes, taking my purse and key-card with me as I left the room.
I was half-way downstairs when I realised I'd forgotten my phone. Deciding it wasn't important and that if anyone had to reach me they could just call the hotel instead; I carried on downstairs.
I felt a little inferior compared to all the gorgeous women in their fancy outfits but I'd had a rough day; the last thing I needed was to get glammed up with a padded shoulder and semi-healed freshly-broken nose.
I ordered two whiskeys for Spencer and I before heading out onto the back-patio, finding him finishing his last drag before stubbing the butt into the ash-tray.
He was sat at a black glass table and chairs overlooking the pool area. The music was a little quieter out here and there were fewer people, but it wasn't derelict.
"I got us some drinks." I announced as I approached the table.
"I already got them in." He laughed, nodding to the two clear glasses at the table already. "I didn't know you drank whiskey." He added with a slight frown as I set the glasses down.
"I don't normally, but ever since Vegas, I guess I've acquired the taste." I shrugged, settling into the seat opposite him, playing it safe with some distance between us.
"I got us a couple of vodkas and started a tab. Figured it'd be a long night." He shrugged and I arched a brow.
"When did you become the drinker?"
He smirked and cast his eyes out over the patio. In the lighting, his eyes looked almost black.
He was wearing a dark woollen jumper and jeans with his usual battered converse but his hair hung damp from the shower he'd had before.
He was lucky; I'd stepped into my shower before wincing and chickening out. There's no way my padded shoulder was up for that amount of pressure.
"I guess I discovered the only way to press pause on an eidetic memory was to silence it with booze." He shrugged, twirling the ice in the glass of vodka he raised to his lips.
I nodded my head, fair enough.
"How's the shoulder?" He asked as I began drinking my own vodka.
"Let's not talk about the shoulder," I smirked, setting my glass back down with a hiss. The lemonade stung the back of my throat and I decided that vodka lemonade was not a good drink for me.
Unless I never wanted to drink again.
"I got as far as a foot in the shower before chickening out." I explained and he smirked.
"I knew you were being over-ambitious." He smiled, sipping at his vodka again.
"I'm a Hotchner, darling," I said dramatically. "It's in our blood."
*
It took me several long moments to establish where I was when I awoke the following morning; cursing myself for lying on a busted shoulder.
Wincing, I sat up and tried to make the room stop spinning by throwing an arm out drastically. This wasn't a good move and I toppled off the edge of the bed; landing with a thud on the floor after my head collided with the wall.
"Fuck sake Melanie." I hissed under my breath; my body crumpled in the oddest of positions.
"What happened?! You okay?!" Spencer's voice was high-pitched and urgent if a little muffled.
Frowning I twisted my head to see him peering over the side of the bed, topless with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth.
"No." I mumbled as he caught my upper-arm and pulled me into a sitting position before helping me to my feet, righting me when I swayed like a tsunami tree.
I tried to shove the fact that he was topless in my hotel room, out of my head to avoid falling any further.
"Yikes." He said, his eyes looking at my shoulder.
"Is it disgusting? Because if it's disgusting I don't think my stomach can handle it." I said, turning my head the opposite way.
"Don't look." He mumbled with a chuckle, continuing to brush his teeth as he retreated back to the bathroom.
I realised then that I wasn't actually in my hotel room; I was in Spencer's. And yet, all of my things were here.
On the table was my go-bag, my purse, my gun holster and my phone. Over the chair was my jacket, by the door were my shoes.
I sat down on the edge of the bed, holding the side of my head and groaning before catching sight of my reflection in the dresser mirror opposite me.
"Fucking hell." I groaned.
What had happened?
"What's up?" Spencer asked, re-entering the room fully dressed in a pull-over hoodie and jeans.
"How can you look at me and be asking that question?" I asked. I was merely thankful I hadn't been wearing makeup otherwise that would've been smudged all over my face.
Instead, my hair looked like I'd been dragged through a bush backwards.
I paused. My eyes went wide. I turned to Spencer.
"Why can I taste cigarettes?"
He sheepishly looked across the room, suddenly avoiding my eyes as he hurried over to the kettle and pushed the button down.
"I'll order some breakfast and once you've eaten and had some strong coffee you'll feel fine."
"Spencer," I said sternly and he paused, turning slowly to face me. "Why can I taste cigarettes?" He sighed and reached for something on the table before showing me an empty carton of cigarettes. I'd watched him pull a full second one out of that carton after I'd joined him outside the previous night.
Whether he'd had a third or not... Was a little hazy.
"We kind of finished the pack..." He said quietly. "I'm sorry Mel, it's my fault, really. We should never have started drinking last night."
I waved him quiet.
"Don't be silly Spence, this is as much my fault as it is yours."
He smirked as I smiled and slowly got to my feet groaning.
"Mel shit!" He grabbed my forearms, his eyes wide as he looked at my shoulder.
"I'm not looking ew oh my god what's wrong?!" I panicked, looking the other way again and wincing.
"It's okay, it's fine I've got this it's okay, don't look!" He ran into the bathroom and got a towel before running back to me and harshly pushing it down on my wound.
I yelled so loud it was as though I'd been shot all over again.
"Jesus Christ Spencer try that a little harder!" I said through my teeth and he frowned apologetically.
"Sorry but there's no other way to do it. Mel, you've burst your stitches. You have to go back to hospital."
"No fucking way Spencer, I'm not staying here another day," The kettle popped and I looked pointedly at the cup of coffee he'd been about to make me. "If you could just give me some of that, and maybe some bacon, and maybe a little toast or something, and I'll fix it myself."
"What? How're you going to do that?" Spencer halted with the room phone half-extended to his ear.
"You have a lighter yes?" He frowned and nodded his head. "Excellent. I'm sure I have a needle somewhere. And there's whiskey in that mini-bar yes?" Spencer groaned and closed his eyes.
"Not more drinking Mel?" I smirked and shook my head before gripping onto the dining chair before I could fall.
"To sterilise the needle." I put one foot in front of the other and collected my bag, wincing as I hobbled into the bathroom feeling slightly sorry for myself but trying to keep my cool at the same time.
It was clear that whatever had happened last night, probably hadn't been the best idea.
The Lover
When Melanie came out of the bathroom she looked a million times better than what she'd looked when she'd entered.
Her hair was damp and she was in a baggy sweatshirt and leggings, her face bearing the lightest bases of makeup as she smiled up at me sleepily.
"Food's on the way." I said, waving the receiver as I set it back on the base.
She gasped and I turned to see what she was looking at, nodding my head at the massive bloody patch on the bed where her shoulder wound had reopened in the night.
"It's okay. Housekeeping can deal with it whenever we leave."
"Spencer, about last night..." I looked over at her to find her chewing on her lip, nursing the cup of coffee I'd poured for her over half an hour ago now.
"Before you ask, I woke up on the floor with a cushion under my head and a towel over me," She burst out laughing and I nodded.
"Yeah, you'd kind of star-fished the bed, even if this is my room." She stuck her tongue out at me and sat down at the table.
"So you're telling me that Mr Genius-Doctor-Eidetic-Memory can't remember what happened last night?" She mock-gasped as there was a knock at the door.
"I've figured that vodka numbs the mind," I said matter-of-factly. "And thus deletes some memories."
She laughed as I pulled open the door and thanked the guy for the platter. I set it down in front of Melanie at the table and removed the top, stealing a slice of toast and smiling as I sat down opposite her.
As I listened to her talk and watched her eat breakfast I sighed and desperately tried to recall the events of last night.
But, judging by the suspicious marking next to her shoulder wound, I assumed it'd been a good night.
I smiled to myself and leaned my chin on my hand, laughing as she spoke.
It had worked.
The Daughter
"So yeah uh, sorry for everything last night." Spencer chuckled awkwardly as we drifted outside the hotel with our bags, my shoulder now completely numb thanks to the pain killers.
"Don't apologise, I'm the one who put the cigarettes between my teeth, not you. Don't worry about it. It was fun." I nodded.
"Yeah, the bits you can remember," He smirked. "We'll uh, need to do it again sometime."
"For sure..." I looked up at the SUV parked in the front bay and jangled my keys. "Have a safe flight back."
"You too and uh, look after your shoulder."
I laughed as we made our way across the car-park to our separate cars.
Truth be told I didn't have the foggiest idea of what had happened the previous night. Whiskey had a tendency to delete my memories, just like vodka deleted Spencer's. I knew that it had been good though, the fact that it hurt every time I smiled stood fact to that.
Flashback #1
Overview
The smoke surrounded him in a cloud, distracting him from the nerves bubbling in his stomach. He thought a cold shower would've dispelled the nervous feeling overwhelming him but it hadn't.
He'd resorted to a whiskey chaser and a vodka with his cigarette in the hopes of calming himself until she arrived.
But when she did, no amount of alcohol or cigarettes could've numbed him to the feelings suffocating him as their eyes met.
She was even more attractive now than Spencer remembered, and the charade they insisted on maintaining only bugged him further to the brink of insanity.
She smelled like whiskey and coconuts; not how he remembered but still homely and inviting regardless.
There was something about the colour of her eyes, the slope of her smile and the warmth of her body that made Spencer feel like he was home. Something about Melanie made him feel safe and secure in a way that no amount of guns or FBI agents or comfy cushions could.
At first, the atmosphere was awkward; neither one quite knowing how to deal with the other. Spencer threw back the booze in order to numb the feelings he felt every time he looked at that slouched and yet still sexy woman sat beside him.
Melanie sipped at the vodka that burned her throat and reminded her of the night she longed to return to; the night Spencer had shown his dominant side and crossed a town just to hold her.
But after the first drink, they both began to relax, and they could see that working over in their body-language.
Spencer sat back in the chair and lit up another cigarette, taking extra care to puff longer with each drag. Melanie too sat back in her chair and brought a slender leg up to hold as her foot propped on the edge of the seat.
This however, done nothing but heighten Spencer's feelings as he remembered the times she'd sat like that in his- their apartment.
The slouchiness of her hair reminded him of the times she'd awoken from a nap in his arms either on the sofa at home or on the jet at work; their colleagues pinching themselves in awe that Spencer had finally found such a breathtaking woman to settle down with.
Only, he hadn't settled down had he?
Here he was; still out on the chase and yet still for that very woman who'd captured his heart four years ago.
Melanie
My head is a little thicker than it was before. Thicker? Is this possible?
I'm not sure, but it certainly feels thicker. Like, my thoughts and my mind is heavier somehow?
I giggle aloud and Spencer's brows furrow slightly in confusion as he smirks and sets his empty vodka glass down on the table in front of him.
"What's so funny?" His sultry voice asks and his tongue jerks out slightly to wet his lips.
"Nothing," I smile broadly and let my leg slide down off the chair, crossing over my other. "I'm just wondering if it's possible for my thoughts to thicken."
This time he frowns deeper and I giggle again. Spencer and frowning will never be a match.
His smile is too enchanting.
"I'm sure there's some scientific jargon I can word-vomit at you right now in regards to what you just said but," He sighs and gives a sloppy smile. "I don't want to." I cheer and whoop and he laughs.
"Eventually! The doctor is letting go of all that authority and knowledge for the night. Congratulations." He smirks and nods his head.
"I think it deserves a celebratory drink, wouldn't you say?" He asks, rising.
"Sure thing." I nod, excited at the prospect of even warmer vodka slipping over my throat.
"Same again or something a little more exotic?" His eyebrow twitches up and I smile, giving a deep shrug.
"Surprise me, doc."
Spencer
She's getting drunk on the vodka alone and I'm surprised. When did Melanie become such a lightweight? Or, maybe I'm mistaken... Maybe I'm the lightweight.
Nevertheless, I order us both another vodka and whiskey chaser coupled with a pitcher of sex on the beach.
That ought to get her giggling.
The guy hands it all to me on a tray and I add it to the tab, lifting the heavy load and carrying it back out to the patio where Mel's now sat on the chair next to mine; facing the back-yard and watching everyone in the pool area.
I shiver for them; the night air must have the pool water too cool to be comfortable.
I set the tray down on the table and she grins up at me.
"This place is rather neat." She nods as I pass her the drinks.
"It is." I nod.
"Not as neat as that hotel back in Vegas," She grins and I furrow my brows at her. Which one?
"I mean the spa hotel Beth's bachelorette party was at," She explains. "Not that I would know a lot about that." She says, looking pointedly at me.
"Hey, not my fault you left early. I just woke up in the bathroom and you were gone."
"Actually, it was your fault I left early. But let's not bicker over petty facts." I smirk at the humour in her voice and sigh as I sip at my vodka before pouring us each a glass of the cocktail.
"You got us sex on the beach?" She guesses as I pass her a glass. "How ironic." I choke and splutter for a bit as she laughs and slaps my back.
"Wow, that wasn't subtle. Am I that obvious?"
I ask sarcastically and she winks dramatically.
"Of course not. But you can't kid a kidder, kid."
"Say that five times fast," I joke, settling the tray on the spare chair. "So let me ask you this, why did you leave Vegas so soon? Beth was super sad."
"I know," She sighs emphatically, stirring her drink with her straw. "I shouldn't have run away like that," She sighs and puffs loose hairs out of her face before taking a delicate sip of her cocktail.
"Truth is, Garci told me about what had happened the night before when we'd gotten back to the hotel," She sighs again and I see her cheeks flush in a hot pink blush.
I have the sudden urge to brush my knuckles against the apples of her cheeks and feel the heat there. But instead, I sip at my drink and blink questioningly at her.
"I was embarrassed and I couldn't remember everything properly. I wasn't sure what you'd be able to remember or if you'd even want to...." She chews on her lip thoughtfully, as if unsure of what she's about to say.
"Or if you'd regret what had been said and done. So I took the easy option and ran. I did have to get home, but mostly that was just because I was too chicken to stay and face the music."
"Mel," I sigh, feeling the weight of this conversation.
"I mean sure we were both drunk but whatever happened that night wasn't regretted in the slightest. I don't regret anything I've ever done with you. Sure I may regret a few stupid things I've said, but the things we've done together I have no reason to regret," I say softly and sincerely, blinking into those sharp blue eyes and feeling my soul curl appreciatively.
"When I woke up in that hotel and you weren't there..." I shake my head and blink harshly.
"I panicked... I thought that maybe I'd done or said something to offend you and rather than ruin Beth's weekend you'd left. But that should never have happened. I'm the one who should've left, Mel, not you."
She gauges my words for a moment, chewing on her lip thoughtfully before a smile breaks across her beautiful face and she gives a small but relieved laugh.
"Oh well, what's happened has happened. No point in crying over spilt milk is there?"
I frown slightly at the question; is it a joke or is it rhetorical?
"Don't worry doc, it was a joke." She laughs, patting a hand on my shoulder.
"How is your wound?" I ask, being reminded of the earlier incident when my heart had leapt into my mouth for the umpteenth time of knowing Melanie.
"It's okay," She says, patting it boldly. "Probably because the booze is numbing me but yeah. I'm good." She nods confidently and I laugh at the sloppy expression calming her face. It feels good to be here; with her smiling. I've missed this.
Melanie
I think I've lost track of the drinks.
But that's okay, right?
I know the pitcher is long gone, and there are... well... maybe eight extra glasses on the table...? But they're a little blurry, I won't lie.
I think Spencer is peeing. He's either doing that or at the bar.
But as I look next to me I jump slightly and my half-hiccup is gone as I realise that nope, he's right beside me and he's talking.
"Shit Spencer shut up," I slur, throwing a hand in front of him, it landing heavily in his lap. "I'm sorry but I have no fucking clue what you just said. I thought you were taking a piss."
"Shit Mel," He laughs, lacing his hand with mine. "Did you pass out or something?" He asks, leaning forward to check my eyes.
He leans his elbow on the table but it's too close to the edge so when he leans his chin on his fist his elbow cracks off the side and he loses his balance.
We both laugh hysterically for a while, me landing on his head as he doubles over in two; his laugh washing over me like a warm buttery bath.
"Back to what I was saying..." he says seriously, narrowing his eyes and staring right at me.
I squint my eyes and giggle to myself as he stares and he chuckles, waving a hand in front of my face so my eyes will return to normal.
He stares again and I dip my tongue out between my lips and touch the tip of my nose and he laughs again at my funny face.
"Fuck Mel I'm trying to do you a favour here stop moving." He sniggers, letting go of my hand to take my face in both of his hands.
I look at him squarely in the eyes before frowning in realisation.
"Spence, what're you doing?" I give a small hiccup at the end of my sentence and he sighs heavily.
"Who's the fucking genius now?" He mumbles under his breath before stealing my breath away and slamming our mouths together.
It's confusing because one second he's holding my face and the next he's holding my thighs, trying to pull me closer to him.
But the metal chairs are stuck with the table legs, and I'm focusing too hard on not gagging because he's running his tongue along the roof of my mouth, and he's dipping the tip of his tongue back and forth between his mouth and mine, so how can I move closer to him when my concentration is clearly elsewhere?
As he dips his tongue back into my mouth I moan and clamp my teeth down, making him hiss and immediately pull away from me.
"Jesus Christ Mel." He grunts as he pinches his tongue with his index finger and thumb.
"You're making me gag Spence," I say as I toss back what's left of my vodka.
"When did your tongue become a washing machine, jeez?" He looks over at me with a wounded expression; all innocence and surprise with that massive tongue of his lolling out of his mouth between his fingers. Really, who can hate this guy?
"I dunno how Dylan likes it but that's totally overrated."
"Ugh!" He groans and sits back in his chair dramatically, snatching his pack of cigarettes and lighting up.
"There it is!" He groans. "The D-Bomb." I frown in confusion and set my empty glass down, twisting my seat to face him.
"The D-Bomb?" I echo, watching as he pulls on his cigarette smoothly, running a hectic hand through his mound of messy hair. "I thought the D-Bomb was dick."
He looks over at me and our eyes meet and for a long moment, there's nothing else except the knowing smirk he's giving me and the power between our stare.
"Another round?" A voice asks, interrupting our eye-sex and I turn my gaze onto the waiter, clearly telling him that I'm five seconds away from gouging his eyes out with the vodka straw for interrupting the first eye-fuck Spencer and I had had in over two years. What an arsehole.
"Yes," Spencer's sultry voice rings out and I turn to look at him. He'd just spoken hadn't he? "Please," He adds, dropping his left hand onto my right knee. "That'd be perfect thank you," He says to the waiter as he clears away our empty glasses. "Right, baby?" Spencer turns to me as he squeezes my knee tightly and I try not to squeal out. He arches an eyebrow and his eyes speak to me as I look at him.
"Mhmm." I mumble when really I want to call him out for calling me baby.
Since when?
"Coming right up." The waiter says as he breezes back inside the hotel. We're the only ones amongst four others out on the patio now. And the inside noise is significantly quieter than before.
"That's not the only thing coming right up, huh baby?" I say, looking pointedly at Spencer's lap.
"The things you do to me, Mel, ugh," He rolls his eyes and flicks the ash off the end of his cigarette as he squeezes my knee again and withdraws his hand.
"You wouldn't even understand." He says slowly as he puts the cigarette back in his mouth.
"Oh, you want a bet smart arse?" I smirk. "Try me." I jerk my chin and he chuckles but I'm not letting this one go.
He thinks I turn him on but I don't understand it? Hell, he's one to fucking talk.
"We're not talking about this. In fact, fuck this, I'm not talking to you, you dropped the D-bomb."
"And you'll drop my D-bomb in a minute if you don't fucking tell me what you're talking about." I say, reaching across and snatching the cigarette out of his hand.
"You're holding it wrong, you'll burn yourself." He says calmly, watching me struggle with the burning hot thing in my hand.
"Fuck how do you do this?"
"And you say I'm not a genius." He scoffs.
"Fuck you I can do this, I did this at university, c'mon Hotchner get your shit together."
"Oh no, you know she's fucked when she starts talking to herself," He chuckles. "C'mon baby it's not that hard," He says, leaning forward and putting the cigarette in my hand right, guiding it to my lips.
"You take this however far you're willing to take this." He says innocently and I smile, batting his hands away with my left as I bring the cigarette to my lips and suddenly it's like I'm back in university again.
Spencer
She's smoking. Right in front of me. And fuck does she look good.
I never thought I'd see the day when Melanie Hotchner would be smoking, and never did I think I'd actually admit that such a filthy habit is attractive but fucking Hell, my dick is hard and she is beautiful.
"Fuck you Melanie." I say under my breath as I light up another cigarette.
"Fuck you too Spencer baby." She slurs and I smirk over at her as I puff on my own cigarette.
"Look at us," She says, flicking ash into the tray. "Playing a big-boys game."
"Who said this was a game?" I ask, watching her take another drag.
"Oh c'mon now honey you didn't really think this night was going to go by and we wouldn't end up sharing a bed at the end of it did you?" My heart stalls and she chuckles.
"Now see that's the expression I want to see more often Spence." She puffs out a cloud of smoke as she leans forward closer to me, her slouched jumper hanging off her bandaged shoulder making me a little more eager.
"The question is, baby, whether you'll be able to handle the heat or if you'll run off again with your tail between your legs."
"I'm not the one who ran home, Melly." I say perfectly calmly.
"I'm not the one who cut all contact." She says without missing a beat, taking her final drag before stubbing the butt into the tray, blowing another cloud of smoke into my face.
"Touché," I decide eventually. "Okay, then boss. I won't go running off anywhere so long as you don't."
"Deal." She says, extending her hand.
I look at it pointedly, my mind reeling with the memories.
"You know," I clear my throat, sweat beading on the back of my neck as my heart races with the memories of an encounter exactly like this all too long ago.
"The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering..." My cigarette drops out of my hand onto the patio floor next to my foot and I automatically reach and stomp on it without breaking eye contact with Melanie.
"It's actually safer to..."
"Kiss." She says as our lips brush against each other.
This time, she takes my face in her hands and slowly takes lead, reminding me of everything she loved - and subsequently hated - when we kissed. She'd take lead, but only to show me how this was supposed to be played, and then I'd control everything else.
It'd been too long since I'd kissed her; too long that I was blinded by how I assumed she liked it and confused by how Dylan done it. But I couldn't think of her tonight.
Not when currently Melanie's tongue is doing that sexy little sweep across my teeth and I groan, immediately opening up to her before my hands steal at her waist and slide her forwards; pulling her onto my rock-hard lap.
She giggles against my lips and that sound alone drives me crazy.
"Melanie." I groan against her lips and she laughs, pulling her blunt nails over the sides of my face.
"What's the matter, baby? Cat got your tongue?" She smirks, pulling her hand through my hair.
"Fuck you." I groan, smashing our mouths together again.
At some point, the waiter comes and sets our drinks down, but I'm too focused on Melanie and kissing her how she likes it to be worried about the people around us, normally I'd die of embarrassment and there'd be no way I'd consider PDA.
But, this isn't exactly a normal situation, and we aren't the only ones all over each other on the back patio.
"I think it's time," She whispers against my lips as my mouth slides down her chin to her throat; peppering delicate kisses down to her collarbone beside her bullet-wound.
"To move rooms, Spence," She adds as my lips begin sucking at her skin.
"Spencer." She moans a couple of pitches higher and I laugh, my breath washing over her burning hot skin.
"Move rooms, yes ma'am..." I smirk at her as I pull back and she chews on her bottom lip as our eyes meet.
"Move rooms now." She decides, scrambling off my lap.
As she twists and turns trying to get to her feet I slide my hand over her butt and squeeze as I gently push her to her feet.
"Spencer!" She hisses in surprise and I laugh as I gather my wallet and key-card from the table; shoving it into my pocket alongside my cell-phone.
"You looked like you needed a hand, hun." I slur.
"Okay, now not only are you trying to get me drunk," Melanie hiccups as I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her close to me as we slowly head inside the building.
"But you're trying to get me drunk and alone." She says, wrapping her arm around my waist and sliding her hand into the back pocket of my jeans.
"So that's why they hired you as Unit Chief!" She frowns up at me and I smirk as I call the elevator. "You're psychic now too!" She laughs and slaps my butt harshly as we head inside the elevator.
"Ouch!" I hiss, rubbing my ass. "That hurt, Hotchner." She smirks and spreads her arms along the bar at the back of the elevator and I narrow my eyes as the door closes behind me.
"Just alerting you to the fact that there's CCTV in each corner of this elevator, so security will have a three-sixty view of you attacking me."
My eyes narrow even further into slits and I push forward, caging her in at the far corner; slamming my mouth onto hers.
She smiles against my lips and I laugh into her mouth, my hands burning into her hips as I slam against the back of the elevator as it jerks into movement.
"You arsehole you hurt my shoulder." She mumbles against my lips and I smirk as the elevator jolts to a stop.
"Is this our floor?" I ask in confusion before the doors open and a middle-aged couple stand staring at us awkwardly.
I clear my throat and grab Mel's hand, pulling her from the elevator whether this is our stop or not.
"Spencer!" She panics before her foot catches around my ankle and she trips to the floor, pulling me down with her.
We land on a heap in the middle of the fourth-floor foyer and burst out laughing immediately as we realise the elevator doors haven't closed yet and the couple is still watching us.
"Oh my god, you idiot!" She laughs, trying to push me off of her.
"You're the one who tripped!" I insist, rolling to the side.
Giggling she tries to get to her feet but can't find the strength or the coordination.
"I think it's bedtime for Melanie." She slurs, laughing as she holds onto the wall and walks her hands up into a stance.
I watch her all the while with my mouth parted in awe.
"I'm not quite sure which way my room is." She hiccups, walking down one of the two corridors that branch out on either side.
Hiccuping too I attempt to scramble to my feet, and by the time I have I'm feeling rather nauseous and Melanie has decided that she's found her room and is trying to slot her card into the reader but it keeps bleeping red.
As I approach I hear muffled foreign voices on the other side of the door and burst out laughing.
"Melanie that isn't your room!" I laugh, grabbing her card and attempting to read the numbers.
"We're on the wrong floor!" I gush, snatching her hand as footsteps approach the door.
Hysterically laughing we take off at a run down the corridor and slam into the stairway, propelling ourselves down a level to Melanie's.
"Oh my god, I nearly died." She gushes, holding onto the wall as I laugh my way down the corridor with her key-card in hand.
"You make me laugh, Mel."
Giggling like school kids we gather her things and race each other along the hallway to the elevator.
We drop things along the way; like a shoe and a jacket and even her gun at one point; but eventually we make it upstairs safe and sound.
"Hey Mel thank god your safety was on." I laugh as I set her gun holster onto the table. I frown as there's no reply and turn to find her passed out on the bed; star-fished on her back occupying the entire bed. I grin. There's nothing more lovely to me than Melanie in her sleep.
Even if she is open-mouthed and drooling.