"Above all, don't lie to yourself. The man who lies to himself and listens to his own lie comes to a point that he cannot distinguish the truth within him, or around him, and so loses all respect for himself and for others. And having no respect he ceases to love." ~ Fyodor Dostoyevsky
The Daughter
The next morning I awoke to an empty bed, the memory of Spencer's body curled around me all-too clear in my head still.
His phone had awoken us ridiculously early and he'd had to leave.
I threw my arms over my face, determined to block out all that happened the day before.
I couldn't face going through today without the knowledge that I got to see Spencer at the end of it.
He was making everything so much better again, and I didn't want that to become undone just because we didn't get an architectural plan of our Unsub's house.
I shuddered at the memory of William's wife breaking down in tears.
I couldn't rid of the sound of her sobs, they plagued my dreams and I'd had a pretty restless night in all.
But Spencer had been there with me; his body the only comforter I'd ever need.
But now he was gone, saving lives in some other city. And there was nothing I could do but the same.
I heaved myself out of bed, preparing myself for what the team were going to throw at me today; I wouldn't blame them if it was anything short of a bullet.
I felt slightly dishevelled as I headed into the office, despite the fact that I was wearing one of my best suits and my face and hair were a work of art; over-compensating is what Spencer always called it.
I'd bought coffee and doughnuts and set it all out on everyone's desks before retreating to my office to file the paperwork from the previous day's incident.
I was emailing everything to the Director when there was a knock on my already opened door.
I opened my mouth to call whoever it was inside as I turned around, but was cut off by Carter barging in anyway saying,
"You really think coffee and cakes are going to buy us off?" She threw the box of cakes down onto my desk and I glanced at Jackson standing warily in the doorway; clearly displeased that Carter was going off on one.
"That wasn't my intentions-"
"Save your bullshit and just cut to it. You feel guilty, of course you do, you should do, but buying us coffee and cakes ain't gon' fix shit."
"Don't talk to me like that, Carter." I said, beginning to grow uncomfortable and irritated.
"Oh?" She scoffed, glancing at Jackson behind her before folding her arms.
"So now you're doing the boss-thing are you? You know, Hotchy, I'm gettin' real tired of your bullshit.
"You come here, starting your Unit preaching about team-work and family and how we all gotta get along to make the job work, but then you pull a stunt like yesterday which proves you ain't really got our backs, and now you're actin' like you're the only one this whole thing is affecting!"
"Calm down-"
"Don't!" She shouted angrily. "Tell me to calm down."
"Carter..." Jackson said in a warning tone, entering my office slowly and approaching her.
"We both feel like it's inappropriate for you to be buying us off considering what happened yesterday." He said matter-of-factly, barely able to meet my eyes and I pursed my lips in contemplation.
My silence didn't bode well for either of them, and they both left my office in displeased silence.
I let a few moments pass before getting to my feet and clicking downstairs and into the conference room where the team were gathered, muttering amongst themselves.
"Okay," I said, taking a deep breath as I entered the conference room without closing the door, walking to the head of the table and clutching the edge for support.
"Fire away." I said, sweeping my hand in front of me in a broad gesture.
The team shared confused expressions.
"What?" Carter said after a long pause.
"Fire away," I repeated, straightening and folding my arms. "You all clearly have some things you want to say to me, so go ahead. Get it all off your chests."
There was a long silence as they contemplated my words. And then,
"You can't just buy us off with doughnuts like nothing happened." Peters practically whispered.
"Yeah, it's going to take a hell of a lot more than that to make it up to us." Wilson scoffed.
"It feels disrespectful to what happened yesterday." Jackson shrugged.
And then,
"You should've balanced the teams out more."
"You should've got the plans of the house."
"You should've profiled his over-preparation and seen the panic room coming."
"You should've been at the house."
Each person's words overlapping the other's, everyone pitching in their thoughts and opinions and often finishing each other's sentences.
I let them talk, let them vent, let them raise their voices until they were practically shooting, each person repeating what has already been said until they didn't really know what to say anymore and Peters was crying.
Then there was more silence.
"Okay... are we done?" I asked, my expression soft and calm.
"Not by a long shot!" Carter scoffed, her voice thick with emotion and her eyes shining with tears.
"Well go on then..." I nodded, dropping my hands by my sides.
Nobody said anything.
"C'mon, get your anger out, voice your frustrations. I'm here, I'm open, hit me with it..."
They all looked at each other and Black swiped at his eyes, batting away tears.
Jackson was sniffling.
"C'mon..." I nudged again.
"We can't..." Wilson huffed, rolling her eyes.
"Why not?" I asked, leaning on the table again.
"Because we're not angry at you." Carter blurted, kissing her teeth and folding her arms defensively.
"Right," I nodded. "And you can't take your anger out on the guy who deserves it, because he isn't here. So you can take it out on me, go ahead," I swept my arm in front of me again, but nobody said a thing.
"And you can't, because I'm not to blame," I said sadly. "I wish I was, believe me," I shook my head with a sigh. "If I were to blame, there'd be someone to hold accountable, and maybe then there would be some semblance of a reason as to why William lost his life..." I shrugged sadly.
"But I'm not to blame, and there isn't a reason. Yes there are factors, like we didn't profile his catastrophising nature and we didn't dig into his floor plans and we didn't account for him hiding in a panic room.
"Like the fact that I put William in a team with the most players, even though he was alone when the Unsub attacked him. Even though you all immediately blamed me, because I was on a team with three agents at a barn where we suspected the Unsub to be all along..."
I sighed and shook my head again.
"I want you all to take a moment to bask in this emotion. To sit with it and let it consume you. Shout, swear, take it all out on me if you have to. But don't ever forget this emotion and this experience, because this is what it feels like when you prepare a profile, and the profile is wrong,"
I looked at each of my team individually as they watched me with sad, tearful eyes.
The emotion was so thick in the room that I could cut it with a knife.
"What we do is controversial, because there's an element of predictability and fortune telling. But we're not mind readers, we're psychologists. And yet, we do what no shrink ever could. And because of that, not everybody agrees with it. Which makes it hard. But we do it anyway because we are good at it and we know it works,"
"But sometimes, like yesterday, we get it wrong. And it hurts. And lives are lost. And then we get bad press again because we failed and we didn't predict what was going to happen. But we're not psychic, we do the best we can with the tools we have, and one out of a hundred, or a thousand cases, goes wrong.
"I want you to remember this moment forever. Each time you think you're ready with a profile, remember this moment. Remember how it feels to be wrong, and to have lost. And make sure that you have done everything in your power to avoid feeling like this again. Exhaust every avenue and ask every question,
"Because we are human and we can get it wrong. But don't let it be your life that suffers the consequences."
They look at me with tears on their cheeks and shame in their eyes.
"Sorry boss." Jackson said weakly.
"You don't have to apologise," I said with the smallest of smiles. "As your boss and the leader of this team, responsibility falls onto me. So if you feel anger or frustration or rage, you take that out on me," I patted my chest for emphasis.
"Don't take it out there," I said, sweeping my hand towards the door. "Because there will always be Unsubs and critics waiting to pounce the second you step a hair out of line," I dropped my hand back to the table.
"We are a family," I said, letting my eyes fall back onto Carter and her earlier words. "And we will get through this together."
There was a long silence as we all looked at each other and the atmosphere thinned slightly.
"I uh," Carter cleared her throat bashfully, straightening her suit jacket and shifting uncomfortably. "I don't s'pose you still have them doughnuts do ya boss?" Her chocolate cheeks blushed and I smirked, nodding my head.
"Put the kettle on, Black." I chuckled, turning to leave the room.
I hurried back upstairs and retrieved the box of doughnuts from the desk.
"Nice speech." A familiar voice said from the doorway and I spun, turning to see my dad standing in my office doorway, go-bag in hand.
"Dad!" I called in surprise, rushing forwards to hug him tightly.
He chuckled and dropped his bag by the coat-stand next to us, hugging me tightly.
"I'm so sorry about what happened, Mel," He said as he held me tightly. "It was so tragic." I nodded my head, squeezing him tighter.
"I can't believe you're here, is everything alright?"
"Well, you could say no, not really." Derek's voice came from behind my dad and I pulled back in surprise, seeing him grinning at me with his go-bag too.
"Derek!" I gushed, hugging him too. "Alright, what's going on?" I asked in confusion and suspicion, pulling back and looking for the others.
"It's just us," My dad explained upon seeing me look and I tried to hide my disappointment.
"There's been a development in a past case of ours here in New York." My dad explained.
"Development?" I echoed curiously. "Past case?"
"Back when I first joined the BAU, what, thirteen years ago, Hotch?" Morgan began and my dad scoffed, nodding his head in agreement.
"There was a case your dad and I worked on briefly, but there were no new leads or killings and we suspected the killer had either been incarcerated for some other crime or had died himself,"
I nodded my head, that usually happened with cold cases.
"So, after six weeks of silence local PD sent us off and we moved onto other crimes and then Reid joined the team and so on."
"But now," My dad continued. "There's been another killing. Exactly the same as the last."
"Thirteen years though, dad. Are you sure it's the same Unsub? That's a hell of a cooling off period." Morgan and my dad nodded, Morgan rubbing at his jaw as my dad glanced back at me.
"We do believe he was incarcerated, we just think he's been released and that's why he's continued killing. If that's the case, there will be more murders."
I nodded my head in understanding.
"So why do you want us involved as opposed to the rest of the team?" I asked curiously.
"Well it's a local case," My dad explained. "And the Director thought it might be a good opportunity for your team to experience working on a cold case."
I cocked an eyebrow apprehensively.
"The rest of the team were needed elsewhere." Derek explained at my expression.
"Okay..." I said apprehensively. "You can lead the way." I gestured to the doorway, hoping that my team would be in the right frame of mind to help out on such an old case.
As my dad gave the briefing of the case; the team tucked into their doughnuts and coffee whilst Morgan and I sat down together, paying total attention to everything my dad said; following along with the briefing on my tablet.
It felt like everything was back to the way it used to be, albeit for a short amount of time.
But my dad was giving the briefing again instead of me, and I was sat paying attention and listening intently, hanging on his every word.
He gave out orders and explained that the rest of his team were in Dallas on another case; and that's why it was only he and Morgan who were here.
"Before you go," My dad said, and everyone turned back to him with their attention bright and alert still. My heart beat profoundly.
"I appreciate how difficult today is going to be for you all. I understand that you lost not only a colleague but a good friend yesterday, and I know how difficult that can be; especially when there's work to be done.
"But I think it's important that you remember William as he was, and focus on doing him proud and serving justice by working hard and sticking together. We really don't know what we're dealing with on this one."
He nodded in thanks at everyone and slowly they got to their feet and dispersed; Morgan heading on with Carter as I stayed behind with my dad.
"Thank you," I said once my dad and I were alone. "For saying that," I said, nodding to the team who'd just left.
"I think it'll help to have heard all of that from some other authority figure other than me."
He nodded and smiled, placing a caring hand on my shoulder before leaning forward to press a kiss to my forehead.
"I am so proud of you Melanie."
*
It was hard, that week.
Knowing that my dad was staying at my apartment and so even if and when Spencer finished up in Dallas, he wouldn't be able to come over.
I felt bad for wishing my dad was staying at the hotel with Morgan, but then again I felt excited and happy any time I knew I was getting to see Spencer, and that wasn't bad at all.
At the end of the week my dad and Morgan stayed on in order to attend William Michaels' funeral with me, and that really helped; knowing that I had two people there who I loved and who respected me, knowing that what happened wasn't my fault.
The fact I couldn't wrap my head around, was that the Michaels' family didn't blame me for what happened.
In fact, at the funeral they clung to me as though I was their mast, their only anchor holding them erect and I felt better and proud for knowing I was helping them through the most difficult day of their lives.
Unfortunately, right after my dad and Morgan left to return to DC, I flew out with the team to Miami; and so there wasn't any spare time then to spend with Spencer.
I felt disheartened that we weren't getting any time together, but comforted by our constant emails and messages and phone-calls.
We couldn't risk Skyping each other, and so we just stuck to calls, despite the fact I wanted to see his face so badly.
Another two weeks came and gone and eventually I decided enough was enough.
"I'm going to DC," I explained to the team as we all boarded the jet to return home.
"I know that these last few weeks have been hard on us," I gulped the guilt away. "But I need for you to adapt to the smaller team, and practice what I'm trying to teach you by thoroughly profiling on the first instance.
"There are a few things I have to work on in DC, during which i will be fully available, as will Garcia. Utilise us," I smiled encouragingly at my team. "You can do this."
There was a brief silence as the team processed this and then,
"Make sure my Morgan's okay." Carter coughed from the back of the jet and I turned to smirk at her.
"I'm telling that to his fiancé." I joked and her mouth fell open.
"Damn why're all the good ones gone?"
"Carter you too are engaged." We all shared a laugh.
"Boss c'mon man, I wasn't looking at his wedding finger now was I? Not when there's such a fine ass to be looking at." We all laughed and Jackson shook his head in awe from opposite her.
"I'm definitely telling Savannah." I said matter-of-factly, laughing to myself at how understanding Savannah would be.
She'd probably want to meet Carter just to shake her hand and agree with her; most likely talk about how fine his ass really was.
*
Excitement bubbled in me as I made my way upstairs in Spencer's apartment block; wondering if he'd be home by now or not.
I didn't even know if he was finished with the case, but I'd told him I was finishing up mine and that I'd be home at some point tonight.
He hadn't replied and so I didn't have a chance to tell him I'd spontaneously re-routed the pilot to DC.
I let myself inside and smiled to myself excitedly, hanging my coat and keys on their hooks, kicking out of my shoes and dumping my bag by the door.
I wasn't even in the living room before I began growing confused.
Pausing in the doorway I inhaled deeply through my nose, breathing in the stench of cigarette smoke still hanging thick in the air.
Frowning deeper in confusion I slowly made my way inside the room, flicking on the lights and walking for the waste-paper-basket, seeing a load of cigarette-butts in the bottom.
Looking around I spied the ash-tray on the side-board and noticed that this too was full.
I gasped at the sight of it; there were at least three packet's worth of cigarette butts and I was so shocked and appalled that Spencer had taken up smoking again; especially because he'd said himself that there was no reason for him to still be smoking.
Before I knew what I was doing I was looking in the drawer of the side-board and shook my head in awe as I found a full packet of cigarettes and three different coloured lighters there.
"C'mon Spencer be a little more discreet." I shook my head and slammed the drawer closed, halting as the front door opened.
Instead of feeling excited and happy and joyous at the fact he'd come home; I felt angry and irritated at the fact he'd lied to me.
He'd told me he'd quit smoking and yet here was obvious subsequent amounts of evidence proving the contrary.
"Melly?!" He called out in complete elated surprise.
"I'm in here." I called, folding my arms and tapping my foot as he came rushing along the hallway and into the living room.
"You're here!" He said, rushing to me and bundling me in his arms.
For a moment I melted there, against his chest, feeling his breath on my neck and his arms tight around me as he buried his head on my shoulder.
"I've missed you so much." He gushed and I wrapped my arms around him in return, nodding my head and squeezing my eyes closed.
"I've missed you too." I admitted, opening my eyes in preparation to pull out of the hug and question him about the cigarettes.
But, as I opened my eyes my vision immediately fell on my blanket over the back of the sofa and at the sight of it I immediately smiled; it's usual comfort overwhelming me even from a distance.
But then I honed in on a mark even visible from here.
A lipstick smudge was stained across the fabric and I frowned.
I didn't wear lipstick often, and when I did - especially around that blanket in Spencer's company - it wasn't long before it was rubbed right off.
My heart began pounding in my chest as I added this to the cigarettes and came up with four: he was still seeing Dylan wasn't he?
"How long have you been here?" He was asking me excitedly, pulling back from me and kissing my forehead happily, pushing the loose strands of hair from my face; completely oblivious to the suspicion and worry coursing through me.
He wouldn't cheat on me would he?
Well, we had technically been cheating on Dylan...
"Not long," I admitted in a small and detached voice, immediately looking away from his face and to the ash-tray on the side-board next to us.
"I was distracted by this..." I admitted truthfully, picking the heavy glass object into my hand.
"I didn't know you hadn't stopped." I said matter-of-factly, meeting him dead in the eye.
"Oh uh," His expression completely fell and I could practically see the blood draining from his face drop by drop.
"Yeah I uh.... I-I-I'd tried but," He shrugged. "I uh, g-guess I couldn't... do it." I nodded my head slowly, looking him dead-in-the-eye with an expression that said I knew he was lying to me.
I put the object back on the side-board with a low thud and folded my arms.
"So you were able to quit Dilaudid cold-turkey, but not nicotine huh?"
He chewed on his bottom lip before wetting his lips and opening his mouth to reply. Fortunately enough for him, he was cut off by my mobile phone ringing from the hallway.
I withheld a groan and dragged myself away from him, back out into the hall and along to my coat pocket, answering the call with a grunt.
"Hotchy I'm sorry but you told us to call you if we had any new cases and well, we're not even back in New York yet and we're being rerouted to Kansas. Will I email you the case?" Black explained and I pinched the bridge of my nose, looking back down the corridor to see Spencer standing in the living room doorway with a saddened expression.
He obviously thought that he was hiding the relief that was shining in his eyes.
"That's fine Black, I understand. Go ahead, I'll take a look right away."
"There's no rush Hotchy. Take it easy, yeah?"
"Thanks Black," He ended the call and I nodded my head, keeping the phone pressed to my ear.
"No I understand of course. I want to be there, especially after everything with Michaels... Yes, I know. I'll be there ASAP." I returned the phone to my coat-pocket before taking it off the coat-stand.
"But you only just got here." Spencer said from the other end of the hallway.
He might as well have been on the other side of the planet for all the distance I could feel between us in that moment.
"Work is work I suppose, Unsubs are bastards." I shrugged, pulling my boots back on.
"When will I get to see you?" He asked and I shrugged as I turned back to him while he walked forwards to meet me.
"Depends how long this case takes I suppose... And, of course if you're on one too." He sighed and nodded his head, clearly feeling awkward at the fact that five minutes ago I was totally enraged with him.
I still was, just in a far lesser degree because now I was worried.
And now I felt sick to my stomach as well.
"I'll call you," He said and I nodded, stepped forward to press a hurried kiss to his lips.
I turned around and picked up my bag, heading for the door.
"A tout l'heure!" He blurted and I froze, my hand on the door-knob. Those words sent a shiver over my spine and had a thousand memories rushing to me.
A tout l'heure... The phrase we'd always shared when we were first dating.
I still had the necklace somewhere...
"I love you." He said in a quietened voice after a long pause.
In that moment I felt as though I was doing something wrong. I felt as though I was about to burst into tears.
"I love you too." I told him truthfully with a small smile.
I turned around and left the apartment, praying that my instincts were completely wrong.
*
It was three hours later.
It was dark, pitch-dark and eleven o'clock at night.
It was raining, and I thought I was seeing things because of that. But, I wasn't.
I was sat in a rented car across the street, feeling like an insane stalker and telling myself to get a grip and to stop being so ridiculous and creepy and and just go upstairs and talk to him.
But instead I sat for three solid hours drinking coffee - which had gone cold - and stale biscuits from my bag; all while staring at Spencer's apartment block. Waiting.
So, it was eleven o'clock and eventually she arrived.
Hurrying along the street, she was hunched over with the heavy rain and wearing a blue rain mac and that stupid woollen hat.
She was wearing a deep pink lipstick - I could see this from across the street because this is what I was trained to do - and I felt tears prick my eyes at the recognition.
That lipstick was smudged over my baby's blanket and that lipstick was most likely smudged on my boyfriend's collar.
I felt rage completely consume me and heard my knuckles crack as I tightened my grip so hard on the steering wheel.
I watched her duck inside the apartment block and pull off her beanie, shaking off the rain from it and pull off her rain mac.
I couldn't see her from the front, but I knew she was wearing a dress as she hurried inside the building and out of sight.
The Lover
I sat on the sofa; the smoke a cloud around me and my fingers pinching my nose.
So, she knew I hadn't quit.
Excellent.
And, she was angry at me.
Excellent.
But how could I make it right when at the first opportunity, she leaves?
I was interrupted by my buzzer ringing and leapt to my feet; she hadn't left after all.
I stubbed out the cigarette and hurried for the intercom, pushing the button to let her in before running back down the hallway and into the kitchen, spraying air-freshener so she wouldn't immediately smell the cigarette smoke.
I mean, she knew now that I was still smoking, of course. But it wouldn't help to know I'd literally just put one out.
I threw the butts in the trash and bundled and old newspaper on-top of them, throwing the ash-try under the faucet and running a bit of kitchen-towel over it before dumping it in the cupboard and hiding the pack of cigarettes and the lighters in the back of the drawer.
Hurrying back along the hallway I waited behind the front door with my eye pressed up to the peep-hole, waiting on her making her beautiful way across the foyer.
However, when the stairway door opened, I wasn't prepared for Dylan to then emerge and make her way towards the front door.
"Hey babe! Only me!" She called as she knocked on the door. "You didn't give me a chance to say hey at the intercom." She laughed as I took a step back from the door and contemplated feigning absence.
I mean, right now of all times!
I pulled open the door and she grinned up at me, stepping inside and pressing an eager kiss to my lips while I stood there in numb cluelessness.
"How was work?" She asked, hanging her mac on the stand where Melanie's coat had been three hours and four minutes ago.
"Fine." I said numbly, closing the door and watching her retreat down the hallway and into the living room.
"Have you been..." She inhaled deeply, pausing in in the centre of the living room to breathe and my heart fell as I realised she didn't know about my habit. "Have you been smoking again?" She asked and I folded my arms.
"Yeah, it helps me relax."
"Wow Spencer, you're really letting yourself go. I mean, I know it's been about a week since we last seen each other, but you need to look after yourself," She began to approach me slowly.
"You need a haircut," She giggled, pausing in front of me and running her fingers through my hair. "And when did you last shave?" She asked, running her fingers from my hair to my face and and stroking my jaw.
"Why're you here, Dylan?" I asked, pulling my face away from her hand. She looked wounded before arching an eyebrow.
"Oh I'm sorry, is it not Thursday?" I eyed her carefully before swallowing my groan at the memory of our stand-in arrangement.
"Were you here last week too?" I asked and she folded her arms, pouting as she nodded her head.
"I had a nice nap and read a book, it's fine." She shrugged and I followed her eye-line to the sofa.
I frowned in confusion as I realised Melanie's blanket was a little twisted on the sofa. I always kept it folded neat.
I approached it to straighten it before gasping as I saw the big ugly lipstick stain on the corner.
"What the Hell is this?" I demanded, snatching the blanket up off the sofa and gesturing at her with it.
"What?" She chuckled and my anger merely boiled more.
"What?!" I gushed. "This is Melanie's blanket and you've ruined it!" I insisted, stretching the corner of fabric where the stain was, thrusting it in her direction.
"Oh yeah," She nodded. "I actually meant to take that away with me and put into the dry-cleaners, I got a little lipstick on it when I was sleeping last week." She blushed and my mouth nearly fell down to the floor.
"Dry cleaners?!" I repeated. "No! Are you stupid?!" I insisted.
"This is Melanie's blanket!" I shouted, waving it in front of me.
"This is the blanket she had for her baby, she loves this blanket and you've ruined it! You can't wash or ruin something as precious as this! It has too many smells and memories about it!"
She looked at me like I was insane.
"Spencer are you hearing yourself right now?" She asked.
"Melanie hasn't had that blanket in years, she left it behind, remember? Surely it wasn't that important, otherwise she would've taken it with her. And, it's a damn blanket, you can wash it so many times and you'll never ruin it.
"And, it was your baby Melanie had, not just hers. You're detaching yourself from what happened by keeping old things but you have to move on, babe."
"Move on?!" I repeated, completely shocked and appalled by what I was hearing.
"Detaching myself from what happened?" I echoed and she began to shift uncomfortably; dropping eye-contact and stepping back. I turned and place the blanket over the back of the sofa.
"I'd like you to leave now please Dylan." I said carefully and calmly.
"What?" She said. "Over a blanket?" She scoffed. "C'mon Spencer, we have a deal-"
"Just leave, now, I have a headache." She pouted for a moment longer before removing herself from the living room, slamming the front door closed behind her.
Flashback #4
"So...?" Caitlyn sings at me. "How are things?" She giddily sits down at the table opposite me and I grin, nodding my head and giggling. She squeals and claps her hands.
"I knew it! You guys are so good together. I can't believe I leave for a month and come back to everything changed!"
"I wanted so bad to call you but I didn't have a number and I didn't want to distract you." I explain sadly and she pouts as she sips her tea.
"You're probably right," She sighs. "Being distracted would not have helped whatsoever. But still, this is a huge thing. You and Darren are a couple now. That's amazing." I grin and blush and nod my head, tossing my hair over my shoulder.
"So tell me all about what I've missed. How did it happen? Did he take you out, or did he save you, or did you save him? Or wait, was it one of those arguments you guys have where you sit there in silence afterwards eye-fucking and you can just tell you guys want to fuck each other so bad."
"Caitlyn!" I gasp, reaching across the table to smack her arm, looking around us at the other people in the coffee shop.
She laughs like a school girl and sips at her tea again while I giggle and try to hide my blush.
"Oh holy shit!" She laughs in realisation, almost choking on her tea. "I'm right aren't I? It was an argument and a fuck!"
"Caity!" I hiss.
"I knew it!" She cackles. "This is amazing!" She laughs again before looking at me seriously.
"Okay, spill. How was it? Was he as rough as his body suggests? Like you know he has that bad-boy thing about him. The hair, the eyes, the stubble, the tattoos, the accent, the body, man I'm so jealous! But he's a charmer, isn't he? There's just... that... air about him, you know? You know he'd be a good boyfriend even though he's a baddy."
I wait until she finishes, listening to her eager and excited words with a broad smile.
Man I'd missed my best friend this past month.
She's been away from the group while building up her character on our latest chase. She'd done so well and I'm so proud of her; but I'm glad to have her back.
Not only because I've missed her, but because now I can keep an eye on her with me and protect her by my side.
"So for starters," I begin, leaning on the table to look at her straight-on. "His body is even better totally naked than what it is topless," She squeals and cackles and I grin.
"And, the tattoos that you've seen are so not his only ones," She gasps and looks at me in surprise so this time I cackle.
"Also, you are right, we did argue, and then that led to great make-up sex, and I applaud you for guessing," She gasps again and leans her chin on her hands while her elbows rest on the table in front of us. She's totally hooked on my every word now.
"As well, he is a gentleman, and was completely and utterly shockingly teasing during the makeup sex, but was an absolute Angel later that night after he'd taken me to dinner and a movie. So, it's a month later, and yes, this all happened the night you left you unlucky git," Another gasp.
"And we've spent every day together since then. He's wiped my tears when I've missed you, had my back when I've been distracted by his own, made me forget about the bullet-wound I got in my arm, also made me forget my own fucking name, and now he's wanting to meet my grandpa."
"You fucking what?!" I grin and nod and sit back in my chair, completely satisfied. "Hold up, rewind. He wants you to take him to England to meet your family? Is he crazy? You guys are like, what? A month in?" I nod my head.
"I know, it's insane, that's why I'm not doing it."
"Yeah, because you also hate your grandpa, and that'd be really awkward if you took your boyfriend to meet the dude you hate..." She pauses in realisation.
"Hold up, is he your boyfriend?" I lean back in my chair again, sipping my tea totally innocently. "He is!" She yells and a few people turn around.
I blush and apologise on her behalf but she's completely gone now, squealing and reaching for a hug.
I roll my eyes and try to get over the embarrassing situation of everyone in the coffee shop hearing our conversation thanks to my best friend's excitement.
Even as I walk up the stairs in my apartment block I can feel my cheeks heating with the memory of Caitlyn's intimate questions.
But, it's nothing short of what I'd expected, and I'd comfortably told her what she wanted to hear, all that she wanted to hear, because she's my best friend and I've waited an entire month to tell her.
"Darren, I'm back!" I call out, pushing inside the apartment, chucking my keys and bag over the back of the sofa, unbuttoning my summer-dress as I pad bare-foot across the living room to the bedroom.
"Hey, she reacted just as we thought," I laugh, opening the bedroom door before halting in the doorway, my eyes almost falling out of my sockets.
His muscular back, stretched and tensed as he fucks over some girl with big boobs and blonde hair.
"You're fucking kidding me." I say in shock as the two of them turn to look at me in shock.
I turn around and button my dress back up, feeling tears of shame and humiliation and hurt prick in my eyes.
"Melanie, wait!"
He calls after me and I turn to see him holding the bedsheets around his waist and I feel jealousy prick in my chest at the sight of his stunning body stood half-naked before me; the busty, leggy, skinny blonde making her way calmly out of the bedroom wearing his t-shirt and her dress bundled against her dress.
We stand there in silence as the blonde makes her way out of my apartment and I fold my arms.
"Get out." I tell him in as strong a voice as I can manage, which, for the record, isn't much.
"Melanie, I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. She was just... there."
"I've been gone for an hour." I mumble, fiddling with the hem of my floral dress.
"I know, and I've missed you so much," He says, approaching me still holding the sheet. "Please, I'm sorry," He says in that accent of his that melts my feelings like butter.
I look up into his eyes and he winks.
"Your body is far better than hers, anyway." He lies and I slap his slab of an arm.
"Bodies aren't everything, Darren." I say, hurt and he smirks, wrapping his arms around my waist.
"I know, but, mine is." He says and I arch an eyebrow.
"Careful, your head will get so big you won't get out the front door."
"That's not the only thing that's big, baby."
"There's that ego again. You were just fucking some girl in my bed, Darren."
"And what? You're going to make me tattoo my apology on my chest?" He demands angrily, stepping back from me, furious.
"I mean for Christ's sake Mel, it was cheap sex, no feelings, no strings, that's the thing you want and like, yes? So what's the big deal?" He demands and I look away from his pressing gaze, picking at my hem again, feeling like the bad guy.
He's good at that; making me feel like I'm the bad guy.
"You're my girlfriend, Melanie. You're the one that matters."
"Then why did you sleep with some other girl."
"Fuck. I fucked some other girl. I didn't sleep with anyone. You're the only girl I sleep with, you're the only girl I make love to."
His words are like music to my ears and I hate him for knowing just what to say to me.
"You mean that?" I ask, like that's the only thing that matters.
"You know I do. You're my girl." He leans forward and pulls me to him by the belt on my dress and wraps his arms around me, lowering his lips to mine.
I do not fight, or resist, or pull away.
I don't do that because I know that if I do, it'll be another argument, and if we argue so close after the last argument, he'll walk out and he'll leave me.
I don't want him to leave me.
I need him.