Chapter 11
Spencer's POV
Natasha walked in first with JJ following behind her, both of them fully prepared and able to make Clayton Jones mad and get him talking.
"Clayton, how are you doing?" Natasha asked, grabbing a chair that was against the wall and dragging it over to the table, sitting in it backwards and leaning against the table. "You sleep okay?"
"It's Mr. Jones to you, young lady. And no, no I didn't."
"Well Clayton, it's Dr. young lady. And you're not in any position to take that kind of attitude with either of us." JJ said, standing beside Nat with her arms crossed.
They were definitely trying to play to his misogynistic side, and it was working.
"So Clayton, tell us about your childhood." Natasha said, obnoxiously tapping her fingernails against the desk.
"Bite me," he spat at her.
"Don't tempt her, because she will. She's pretty feisty." JJ said, flipping her hair over her shoulder, "so why don't you answer a question."
"Why don't you go find me the man in charge, and I'll talk to him."
"So, the misogyny. You always been that way?" JJ asked.
"I ain't no damn misogynistic prick lady, despite what you may think."
"Misogynistic tendencies develop in childhood, mostly caused from trauma. Was it your mom that beat you? Or Grandma?" Natasha asked. "Or maybe dear old grandpa beat up sweet old granny, teaching you to do the same."
"They make a great team, look at him." Hotch said, walking up behind me and Morgan. "He's cracking,"
"Some believe that misogyny stems from not being able to see women as anything but mothers or sexual beings which is referred to as the Madonna-whore complex." Natasha stated. "Is that why you killed them?"
"I told you why I did it." He said, looking away, not making eye contact with either of them. "They reminded me of my wife."
"Why'd you push your wife down the stairs?" JJ asked and Clayton tensed.
"Who told you that?" He scoffed. "You really think I killed my own wife?"
"Sir, look at this." Garcia said walking up to us with the computer in her hand. Hotch nodded and knocked on the door, signaling for Natasha and JJ. They stood up and walked over, listening to whatever he had to say.
"I think I know why you pushed your wife down the stairs." Natasha said, walking around and standing behind Clayton, leaning over his left shoulder, JJ doing the same on the right side.
"Oh yeah, give me the reason why. Not that I did it."
"Because you're incompetent, infertile, impotent." JJ said, enunciating every word.
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"You believe that it's a woman's place to stay home, take care of the house, take care of the kids, take care of you?" Natasha said, leaning in closer. "I agree."
Where was she going with this? She slowly tapped on JJ's arm and motioned for her to move back.
"You do?" He asked, intrigued.
"Mhm hmm." She bit her lip and nodded, "I also believe it's the husband's job to provide. Do you agree?"
"Yes ma'am, I do." He nodded.
"So it must have really got under your skin when the doctors told you you were infertile?" She asked, slowly tracing her fingers up his arm. She smirked and I knew that she could feel him tending under her hand, she hit a nerve. "Which is why, when you found out your wife went to a fertility clinic behind your back and used a sperm donor, you got so angry that you pushed her down the stairs. You wanted to make her lose the baby, but you killed her instead. And it felt good, didn't it?"
His eyes went cold before he jumped up, pinning Natasha to the wall behind them by grabbing her throat. I instinctively jumped towards the door but Hotch held me back.
"If I wasn't the dad, then she didn't deserve the kid at all." He spat in her face and she smirked.
"Bingo!" She laughed, "you're not getting out of jail for a long time buddy."
JJ knocked on the door and the guards came in, taking Clayton away, probably for the rest of his life and then some. I rushed in behind them and straight over to Natasha.
"Nat are you okay?" I asked, grabbing her hands out of instinct.
"Yeah I'm fine," she said, almost laughing. She just got choked and pinned up against a wall, why was she lau...oh. "I could use some water though, maybe some mouthwash. I can't believe I said that I agreed with that ass."
"Natasha, Natasha, Natasha." Morgan said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "I knew there was something you were hiding in the vast brain of yours. I thought it was like a boy and obsession, but erotic afixiation?"
He laughed and walked off.
Natasha turned to look at me, her cheeks tinted pink just a little.
"I know you can't actually, but can we pretend that the last five minutes never happened?"
"You know masochism and BDSM is the most common sexual kink in the United States," I said, smirking.
"I'm not listening to you." She said, blushing ever harder and turning to walk away but I grabbed her hand, pulling her back.
She hit me chest with force and caught herself by grabbing onto my biceps.
"I'm really hurt that I am your best friend Elizabeth and you didn't tell me this sooner," I said, purposely making my voice lower. "I may just have to punish you for it."
"Spencer," she whined. "It's not funny."
I let go of her and laughed. "Really, because I thought it was."
......
"Oh my god." I heard Natasha and Penelope giggle from the seat behind mine on the jet. "No."
"Care to share with the rest of the class?" Morgan asked.
Natasha stood up and came to sit over beside me.
"Hi Spence," she said, biting her lip to keep from laughing. "Or should I say, hi donor #3345435."
"I-I don't know what you're talking about," I said, trying to pretend I didn't know what she was talking about.
"Oh really?" Garcia asked, turning around on the edge of her seat and reading the file. "6 foot 1. Brown hair, green eyes. Graduate of MIT, IQ of 187. Under special skills, donor #3345435 said that he can read 20,000 words per minute."
I reached back and grabbed the folder out of her hand and shoved it into my satchel while everyone else laughed.
"I was tight on cash and needed a quick way to make money, okay?" I said, quickly explaining myself, "why do you even have this?"
This time all eyes were on Natasha. My mind went back to the conversation I overheard her and Garcia having when we were in Boston.
"This is about your mom, isn't it?" I asked, placing my hand on her hand for support.
"Yeah, her last dying wish is to be a grandma." She smiled weakly. The mood on the jet dropped and previous laughing faces were now met with those of sympathy. Emily was the first to break the silence. She took the folders from Garcia and started to flip through them.
"Let see, baseball player with a family history of alcoholism, no. A chef, that sounds promising."
"No but look, he's only 5'7." JJ said, looking over Emily's shoulder and pointing.
"Oh true. And the lucky number four is a 5'11 car salesman with a GED. Absolutely not."
"Looks donor #334535 is the best option." Rossi added, having ignored the conversation up until this point.
"And look, you can get the liquid gold straight from the source." Morgan said, laughing again.
In response, Natasha took off her shoe and threw it at him.
"What about you hot stuff, you ever make a deposit to the baby bank?" Garcia asked.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" He winked at her and all of us erupted into laughter.
"You know," I said bending down so only Natasha would hear me. "I'll do it, if you want me to."
She turned to look at me, trying to read my face to see if I was being serious or not.
"Spence, I can't ask you to do that." She said, her voice barely audible. "That's a huge commitment."
"My mom's Alzheimer's isn't getting any better, she deserves to at least have some kind of memory with a grandkid, and I'm not exactly about to find a wife anytime soon." I explained. "Pulse, once she's gone I won't have any family left. Think of it as a mutual arrangement."
She blinked a few times and then just stared at me.
"What do you say?"
"You have to at least take me out to dinner first Dr. Reid," she said, before bursting out laughing. "Then maybe we can talk about it,"
"Alright, consider it a date." I said before poking her nose, causing her face to scrunch up.
What is this woman doing to me?
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