warnings: public sex (kinda but no one can see or hear them so)
"How do we not have a single freakin' lead in two days?" You sigh, sitting back in your chair.
"It's like the unsub is just...a ghost," Prentiss says, shaking her head.
You tap your fingers on the wooden table, leg shaking as you think. The team had been in LA for two days—and nothing. No leads. No connections in victimology. Nothing. Your eyes flick up to Spencer, watching him stare intently at the map, his on his chin, fingers lightly tapping at his jaw.
You stand, exhaling in frustration as you make your way through the police station to where the coffee is. You grab a cardboard cup, filling it to the brim with the dark liquid, slapping a few sugars in it before stirring. You take a sip, letting the familiar, albeit shitty, taste of police station coffee calm you down for a moment.
"It's frustrating me, too, Ace."
You turn your head, watching Spencer grab a cup. He pours his coffee, then adds an ungodly amount of sugar, then stirs before bringing the cup to his lips. He leans against the table, giving you a small smile.
"I just don't understand what we're missing." You blow on your coffee, trying to cool it down a little.
"I think the whole team is frustrated," Spencer assures.
"I swear, I think it has to be in the geographical profile," you say sternly. "There's just...something fishy. It's such a specific area."
"Come on," he says, grabbing your hand and squeezing for a moment before letting go. "Let's go look, then."
The two of you walk back into the room, and you walk over to the map, looking at the little pushpins pushed into the corkboard. Your eyes scan the circle, shaking your head.
"There has to be a reason the unsub operates in this specific area," you say, motioning to the area where the victims were found. "We just need the why."
"I just think it's weird that the unsub never comes back to revisit his crimes," Morgan states, leaning back in his chair. "Usually an unsub of this sort wants to see the bodies one more time."
Spencer opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted by the sheriff walking into the room, a grim expression on his face.
"What is it?" Hotch asks, his voice low.
"There's another body," the sheriff says.
You exhale in frustration, hitting the map dejectedly. You turn to Hotch, shaking your head. "Do you want Reid and I to go examine the body?" It feels weird calling your boyfriend by his last name, but the two of you wanted to remain somewhat professional in the field.
Hotch nods. "Sure. Call me if you have anything. This murder is closer together than the last ones—he's devolving."
You nod, fishing the SUV keys out of your pocket as you and Spencer head out of the precinct. Tossing Spencer the keys, he clumsily catches them, and you giggle, opening the passenger seat door. He climbs inside and you buckle your seatbelt.
"A little warning would've been nice, Ace," he mumbles as he sticks the keys in the ignition and turns the SUV on.
"I think you're a class A catcher," you tease, watching him put on his seatbelt. "I think you could go for MLB in case profiling doesn't work out."
He rolls his eyes but flashes you a grin as he pulls out of the precinct. You tap your fingers on the middle console of the SUV, biting the inside of your cheek.
"I can't believe someone else died," you murmur.
Spencer reaches over, sliding his hand in yours. "It's okay. We'll catch the unsub; I promise."
The ride to the coroner's is short, and you shudder as you get out of the car, the cool air hitting you. You glance at the building, the sun setting behind it, before looking at Spencer. He grabs your hand and squeezes before letting go, and you adjust the gun on your hip as you push the door open, heading to find Dr. Johnson.
He lifts his head as the two of you enter, a wide smile on his face. "Ah, agents. Nice of you to drop by."
You give him a half-smile. "Hi, Dr. Johnson." You look down at the body in front of you, eyes scanning the cuts. Same as last time.
Spencer bends down, scrunching his eyebrows together. "There are more cuts this time."
You watch Dr. Johnson's face. He's not looking at Spencer—he's looking at the body. You narrow your eyes, tilting your head.
"It's just terrible what's happening to these people, isn't it?" You ask, eyes never leaving his face.
"I think it's fascinating," Dr. Johnson says, eyes not leaving the body.
"Why's that?" You ask, slowly putting your hand on Spencer's back, trying to get him to understand what's running through your head at the moment.
Dr. Johnson shakes his head. "The cuts—don't you think they're fascinating? Just one little slice...and that's it. They're dead."
Your eyes flick over to the small tray that's resting beside the body. A few surgical tools lay in the tray, but one of them sticks out to you: a scalpel. Small. Sharp. You feel Spencer slowly standing, and you slowly nod at Dr. Johnson, his eyes dragging away from the body to land on your face.
"This is your way of revisiting the crimes," you whisper, a flash of fear running through you.
A menacing smile appears on Dr. Johnson's face. "I like to see them again. I just think they're so pretty. Don't you?"
You unholster your gun, but for an older guy, Dr. Johnson is fast. He grabs Spencer, pulling him to his body, the scalpel pressed against Spencer's neck. Fear runs through your veins as you watch Dr. Johnson's hand twitch. Spencer's eyes land on you, terror flashing through them.
"Dr. Johnson, there's no need to hurt anyone else," you say calmly.
"Then put your weapon down, agent," he responds, Spencer's eyes never leaving your face.
You hold up your hands, slowly lowering the gun to the ground, not taking your eyes off of Spencer and Dr. Johnson. His grip on the scalpel loosens, and he begins to let Spencer go. Spencer kicks back, hitting Dr. Johnson right in the crotch. He grunts, falling to the ground, the scalpel hitting the floor with a loud twang. Spencer kicks the scalpel away, unholstering his gun and aiming it at him.
You breathe a sigh of relief as you bend down and grab your gun, holstering it and grabbing your cuffs. You walk over to Dr. Johnson, cuffing him behind his back. You keep your knee pressed against his back, pulling out your phone to call Hotch. Within minutes, Hotch and the police show up.
The sheriff pulls Dr. Johnson up, and you notice his eyes linger on the body for a moment too long before he's ushered out. You turn to Spencer, watching him holster his gun.
"Are you okay?" You ask, noticing the thin pink line on his neck where the scalpel sat.
He gives you a small smile. "I'm fine, Ace. You connected the dots quicker than I did."
"That was fucking scary," you mumble.
"Well, I'm fine."
Hotch walks over to you, raising his eyebrows. "How'd you know it was him?"
You shake your head. "You should've seen the way he was looking at that body, Hotch. And he was talking about them like...he admired them. How they look now."
"He called them pretty," Spencer says.
"I mean, it makes sense," you babble on. "He killed the victims in this area, so they'd be guaranteed to get sent here. That way, he can relive his crimes, and no one ever suspects a thing."
"Until he started devolving, that is," Hotch finishes. He gives you and Spencer a slight nod. "Good job, you two. We're heading home tonight."
You nod and you and Spencer head out to the SUV. He reaches over, grabbing your hand as he begins the drive to the jet. You glance over at him, breaking his grip on your hand to run your hand through his hair. He gives a breathy laugh as you play with his hair, twisting the ends of it around your fingers absent-mindedly.
He glances over at you. "Careful, Ace. Don't get me all wound up before we get on the jet with our team members."
You giggle, giving his hair a soft tug. He groans, his chin jutting up slightly. You release his head and return your hand to your lap. A light smile plays on your face, and you look out the windshield. Suddenly, Spencer tugs at your hair, a soft whine leaving you as he grips your hair.
"I told you to be careful," he says, laughing as he releases your hair.
He keeps his hand on your head, playing with your hair until the sharp sting of the tug leaves. You subtly clench your thighs together, trying to ignore the way the hair pull sent heat to your core. He pulls up to the jet, and you unbuckle your seatbelt. He leans over, turning your head, kissing you softly.
You kiss him back, his hand twisting in your hair for just a second before pulling away. His eyes search yours, and you watch his pupils dilate as he looks at you, giving him a soft kiss on his nose before opening your door, grabbing your go bag out of the backseat. It's dark out—you guys wouldn't be getting back to the BAU until 2 AM at least.
Spencer takes a seat on the couch, his back resting against the arm. You take a seat in front of him, resting your back on his chest. You catch Morgan's eye and he gives you a grin, and you shake your head, Spencer's arms wrapping around your torso.
"Don't look at us like that, Morgan," you say, grinning. "Spencer could've died by scalpel today."
Morgan laughs. "What an epic way to go, my man."
You feel Spencer's body shake as he laughs. You rest the back of your head against his shoulder, his fingers trailing lazy patterns on your arms. You close your eyes, exhausted after the long day you've had. It's not long before you're drifting off to sleep in Spencer's arms.
"Ace, wake up!"
Spencer's soft whisper in your ear makes you groan softly, eyes fluttering open. You yawn, tilting your head to the side as Spencer's lips connect with your neck.
"What time is it?" You whisper, your eyes trying to adjust to the darkness of the jet.
"It's twelve forty-six in the morning," Spencer mumbles against your neck.
That's when you register the bulge pressing against your back, laughing softly as Spencer continues littering kisses on your neck.
"Are you serious? You woke me up to do this?" You whisper. "On the jet? With the team literally four feet away?"
"They're all sleeping." Spencer's hand runs along your stomach lightly. "And I didn't wake you up just for this."
He sits up, his arms still wrapped around you as he brings the two of you into a standing position. He grabs your hand, grinning back at you as he leads you to the bathroom, rolling your eyes as he opens the jet bathroom door.
"Brainiac, you wanna join the mile-high club?" You tease him as he shuts and locks the door, your voice soft.
Spencer's hands run through your hair. "I've literally thought about fucking you since you pulled my hair in the SUV. Now get on the counter."
You let out a soft giggle as you unbutton your pants, pushing them and your panties down before Spencer's hands grips your waist softly, helping you onto the counter. His lips connect with yours, his hands moving to your thighs, running up them softly, his fingertips ghosting along your skin. You twist your fingers in his hair, tugging softly, a soft groan leaving him as your lips move to his neck.
His fingers move up and down your slit lightly before slowly pushing his middle finger into you, curling it to hit your g-spot. You groan against his neck, sucking at the skin, leaving a small trail of hickeys behind.
"Quiet, Ace, we can't wake anyone up," he murmurs, his other hand snaking under your shirt, fingers lightly trailing around to your back.
You stifle your moans as he adds another finger, lightly trailing his nails up and down your back. You kiss back up to his lips, moving against them slowly. Spencer removes his fingers and you catch his hand in yours, breaking the kiss as you look him in the eye. You push his fingers in your mouth, hearing his breath hitch in his throat as you suck lightly on his fingers.
After a moment, he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, unbuttoning his pants, pushing them down along with his underwear. He takes his hard dick in his hand, pumping it a couple times before looking at you, lining it up with your entrance. Your lips part as he pushes inside of you, a moan leaving you. His hand clamps over your mouth, stifling your moan as he begins fucking you.
"You need to—fuck—be quiet, Ace," he murmurs, his other hand moving to your back again, pulling you closer to him.
You wrap your legs around his thighs, one hand gripping the fabric of his shirt, the other moving to your clit. You rub it in fast circles—the two of you have to be quick. Spencer's hand stifles your moans and whimpers as he increases his pace, feeling you clench around him. You already feel the knot forming in your lower stomach, increasing the pressure on your clit as you breath heavily through your nose.
"Yeah, are you close already, Ace? Do you like the way I fill you up?" He whispers, eyes locking with yours. You nod, a muffled whimper vibrating against his hand. "Go ahead, be a good girl and come for me."
Your legs shake slightly as you come around his dick, pussy throbbing fast and hard, his hand catching the brunt of your moans. Your hand leaves your clit, moving up to his hair, gripping it tightly. Spencer's thrusts falter, his nails digging hard into your back.
"Fuck," he groans softly, thrusting a few more times before burying himself deep inside of you. You feel his dick throb as he finishes inside of you, removing his hand from your mouth.
His lips press onto yours gently, and you kiss him back, your hand leaving his hair, dragging your nails down the side of his neck. After a minute, he pulls away, kissing your forehead before pulling out of you. He grabs some toilet paper, cleaning you up before you stand.
"Go," you tell him, kissing him on his nose. "I gotta pee."
He pulls up his underwear and pants, making sure he doesn't look too disheveled before exiting the bathroom. You pee and wash your hands, adjusting your hair and clothes. If your face weren't so flushed, it would almost look like Spencer hadn't just fucked you in the bathroom.
You exit the bathroom and walk over to Spencer, resuming your position from before, your back against his chest. You close your eyes as Spencer's arms wrap around you, feeling him press a kiss against the side of your head.
"Sleep, Ace. I'll wake you up when we land."
After only a few minutes, you're asleep again, the warmth from Spencer's body making you feel safe.
•••
"Ace, baby, wake up."
Spencer gently shakes you awake, and you roll over in bed, groaning. "I don't wanna get up, brainiac. Can't work wait? We didn't to your place until fucking two-thirty AM this morning."
Spencer rolls over, his left arm draping over you. His raspy chuckle vibrates against your neck, his lips connecting with the skin softly. "I know, but we have paperwork to do. It's already nine."
You groan again before opening your eyes, yawning as you sit up, Spencer's arm falling off of you. You swing your legs over the bed, sleepily walking over to the bathroom. You pee and wash your hands before brushing your teeth. Exiting the bathroom, you see Spencer pulling on a pair of pants, and you walk over to him, kissing his collarbone.
He bends down slightly to kiss you. "You change. I'll get coffee ready."
You rummage through your go bag, pulling out a pair of suitable clothes for a paperwork day. Standing up, you watch Spencer disappear into the bathroom to brush his teeth and you smile softly. You pull on your clothes, leaving your hair natural. While you're changing, Spencer comes out of the bathroom before disappearing through the doorway to go to the kitchen. You situate the gun belt around your hips before pulling on your heels and grabbing your phone and purse, another yawn leaving you as you walk into the kitchen.
Spencer has two to-go coffee cups ready for you, and he hands you yours, leaning over to give you another kiss. He pulls away and you grin at him.
"Hey, brainiac, question."
"Shoot," he says, taking a sip of his coffee.
"What would you, uh, think about us moving in together?" You feel your cheeks flush and you take a sip of your coffee, glancing up at him.
"Really?" He asks, a toothy smile crossing his face.
You nod. "I mean, we basically already—"
Spencer interrupts you with a kiss, his right arm wrapping around your waist. You break the kiss, laughing against his lips, feeling him smiling.
"Of course, I want that, Ace," he murmurs against your lip, kissing you gently again.
"Well, good, 'cause I wasn't going to take no for an answer," you joke, looking into Spencer's hazel eyes.
Spencer laughs before releasing you. "Come on. We can talk specifics later. Work is waiting."
You and Spencer leave his apartment, and you both take the metro to work. You push open the BAU door, one of Spencer's hands on your lower back, the other clutching his coffee. You scrunch your eyebrows as you notice a blonde girl talking with the team.
"...she's in remedial training with an injury." Hotch stands with a file in his hand.
"Concussion," the blonde girl states. "Hand-to-hand. Got a little out of control."
"How's the other guy?" Prentiss asks.
"Oof, don't ask," the girl jokes.
You and Spencer approach them, Spencer's hand still on your back.
"I was remediated in the Academy, also," Spencer says, a small smile on his face. You look up at him, rolling your eyes.
"Um, what was your issue?" She asks.
"Ah, what was my issue..." Spencer thinks for a minute. "Uh, marksmanship, physical training, obstacle course, Hogan's alley—you know, pretty much anything that wasn't technically book related. They ultimately had to make exceptions to allow me into the field."
"We get it, brainiac, you're a nerd," you giggle, grinning up at him.
His hand wraps further around your waist and you look at the girl, sticking out your hand. "I'm Agent Y/l/n, it's nice to meet you."
She takes your hand in hers, shaking it firmly. "I'm Agent Seaver. Ashley Seaver."
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Author's Note
It took me like 3 hours to write this chapter because I got distracted by making my iOS14 screen. It's cute and Halloween and Gublerween themed. I love it omg.
Also, don't hate me for bringing Trashley into this fic fjakdkakf we have to tell her off at least ONCE for being mean to Spencer.
Anyway, I love y'all and hope you enjoyed this chapter. <3