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It was a magical night indeed.
The first full moon of summer was huge and bright where it hung in the sky. Its beautiful light illuminated the garden in which you danced. The grass was soft beneath your feet. The warm, slightly humid air caressed your bare skin.
This was not a normal occurrence by any means. If someone had asked you a month ago if you’d be willing to dance naked under a full moon, you’d have answered with a resounding “no!”
Never in your wildest days did you think you’d do something so… indecent.
And never did you imagine you’d actually like it.
You blame Laurel — a dental hygienist at the office in which you’ve recently started working. She was older than you by around 20 years and instantly decided she would be your work mom/spiritual guide/official advice-giver. When you expressed a fascination with moon magic and astrology, she just about jumped through the roof with her excitement.
Laurel was, in her own words, a witch. “Practicing since I was about your age,” she’d said with a big smile. “This must be fate!”
Yeah, you blamed Laurel for sure. She was the one who planted the seed in your head. She was the one who told you all about how amazing it feels to release your inhibitions.
Hey, you got curious, alright?
Hearing your older, free-spirited coworker talk about dancing naked under a full moon with a bunch of other women should have been weird. And yet… It sounded like so much fun! You couldn’t get it off your mind.
Nevertheless, you were far too shy to accept the invitation to join them. The last time you were nude around a bunch of other women was the locker room in high school. To say you were repressed in that respect was almost an understatement. You were no prude, but vanilla was a pretty accurate description of just about every aspect of your life.
“That’s fine, love!” Laurel had replied, patting your hand reassuringly. “But the full moon falls on the solstice next month — it’s bound to be a powerful night.”
Later that same day you discovered an email containing multiple links to articles that detailed full moon rituals you could perform solo. Of course the sender was Laurel. Reading them that night, it became apparently obvious: you wanted to do this.
So that’s how you found yourself in your auntie’s garden on a Saturday night in June, bare as the day you were born. The aforementioned auntie was currently out of the state, traversing around the western US with her newest flavor-of-the-week. She needed someone to look after the place and you jumped at the chance to help. The fact it fell over the exact timeframe of the solstice really did feel a bit like fate.
You loved your auntie’s house. It was a literal stone cottage — a modest two bedroom built in the early 1900s, covered in ivy, and nestled on some gorgeous property with a huge, private garden in the back. The neighborhood was small and just outside the city. Sure, it was a little farther to commute to work, but the privacy and quiet compared to your inner city apartment was totally worth the extra drive time.
You had some candles lit on a stone bench acting as your makeshift altar. Incense burned; the smell mingled sweetly with the natural perfume of the earth and freshly blooming flowers. Your robe lay carelessly pooled at your feet.
At first it felt sort of ridiculous being out there, so you opted to remain dressed. Then you put on music and let the rhythm wash over you. It wasn’t long until you were getting into it. Soon you were brave enough to untie the sash of your satin cover and let it slip from your form, leaving you completely exposed.
Laurel was actually right! You felt absolutely incredible. Letting go of your inhibitions and getting lost in the moment allowed your cluttered mind to become clear. All your worries and concerns dissolved and bled from you, cast away by the full moon’s luminous face.
You focused on the moment feeling light and carefree. Happiness bubbled up inside your chest, erupting into laughter while you twirled and danced. It was magical!
Then a voice called out, “FBI! Is anyone back here?” and shattered your perfect illusion.
You had no time to cover yourself before the garden gate was suddenly being opened. A man dressed in a button up, tie, and slacks entered the area and stopped short upon seeing you in your compromising position.
He gaped at you; you stared back in abject horror. There was a pause in time where the both of you totally froze. Your naked body was bathed in the silvery glow of the moon above — leaving you completely on display to your impromptu guest. To his credit, the man’s eyes never left your face. The music that continued to play was the only sound to be heard.
Then all at once your senses came rushing back and your face flushed with embarrassment.
“Oh my god!” you screeched, quickly snatching up your robe and hastily tying it closed. “I’m so sorry!”
The man, who quickly covered his eyes, yelled back, “Why are you apologizing!? I wasn’t sure anyone was back here!”
Another man appeared behind the first looking alarmed. Fortunately you were no longer indecent.
“Reid! Is everything okay?”
“Yup, yeah, it’s all good,” Reid hastily replied.
The second man, Morgan, looked curiously from his partner to you to the altar and realization dawned across his face. Even in the dark you could tell the guy was trying not to laugh. It would have been funny if it were happening to someone else.
“Sorry to startle you, miss,” said Morgan, producing a badge to identify himself as an agent. “But this is urgent. Would you mind answering some questions?”
“O-of course,” you stammered through your shock.
The first guy, Reid, wouldn’t look you in the eye as you led him and Morgan inside through the patio door. You quickly excused yourself to change clothes and left the men standing in your kitchen.
Oh god! Oh no, you thought frantically as you pulled on a loose T-shirt and some pajama shorts. I dance naked one time and the fucking FBI shows up?! It wasn’t illegal… right?
Swallowing thickly, you rejoined the men who were having a hushed conversation. You couldn’t be sure, but you felt like it was about you since they quit talking the moment you came into sight.
As cordially as possible, you invited the men to sit and quickly got down to business.
“Uhm, so, what can I do for you?”
Morgan, whose face had darkened considerably with a serious expression, confirmed your identity and asked some questions about why you were staying at the house. When you mentioned your aunt and her trip out west, the agents exchanged a look that worried you deeply.
“Is everything okay with my auntie?” you asked timidly as tendrils of fear began unfurling in your gut.
Reid cleared his throat and answered, “The man she’s with is potentially very dangerous. Can you tell us what you know about him?”
You didn’t have much to share, but told them all that you knew regardless. They nodded along and asked some additional questions about the relationship, and you tried being as helpful as possible.
Then, as if by magic, your cell phone rang and the caller ID let you know it was your aunt that was calling. Bewildered, you showed the screen to the detectives and they urged you to answer it. You placed the call on speakerphone.
“Hello?”
“Hi, sweetie! Sorry for bothering you so late. Is everything okay over there?”
You blinked at the phone and then looked at the detectives who were watching intently.
“Uuuhhh… it’s great, auntie. Are you okay?”
Your aunt laughed. “I suppose I’ve been better. Has the FBI arrived yet?”
This was too weird. What the hell was happening? How did she know?
“Yeah, I have two agents here with me. Auntie, what’s going on?”
“Damn, they’re fast,” she said first, then added, “No need to worry. Turns out James is a wanted man.” She heaved a hefty sigh. “I’m told he’s responsible for the disappearance of many young women. Good thing I got a lead foot — if we hadn’t been pulled over, goodness knows what might’ve happened to you.”
The color drained from your face. “T-to me?!”
“Well, yes. Haven’t those — what’re they called? Profilers? — explained it to you? James was only gallivanting around with me to get access to you. He has a partner who they’re still looking for.” You heard the voice of a man talking to your aunt on the other end but couldn’t make out what was said. “Oops, that’s the trooper who’s helping us, sweetie. I gotta go make my official statement. Don’t be afraid! I’m told the BAU is the tops. Talk soon, hun! Bye, bye.”
The call disconnected. You were left staring at your phone screen in utter disbelief. This whole time you’d been in danger and didn’t even know it. A cold chill rattled your body at the thought of what might’ve happened had the FBI not shown up.
When you looked up, you discovered the agents were still watching you closely. You swallowed the fear down and wrapped your arms protectively around yourself.
“So… what happens now?”
The agents briefed you about the next steps. They had reason to believe the unsub was in the area and they wanted to be around if he decided to show up. You asked if you should go back to your apartment in the city but they said that might make the guy suspicious.
“From what we can tell, he’s expecting you to be here. I know it’s not ideal, but we can’t risk losing this guy. Reid and I will be here for protection, and backup is on the way.”
Morgan’s cell phone rang then and he excused himself to answer it. That left you and Reid sitting at the small dining room table alone. It was dim in the house but that didn’t stop you from noticing the blush coloring the agent’s face and neck.
“Hey, aah, Reid, was it?” you awkwardly asked.
Reid nodded. “Oh, yeah, but you can call me, uhh, Spencer if you want,” he replied just as awkwardly.
You bobbed your head like a chicken for a moment, unsure what to say next. Glancing out the window, you could see the moon still shining silver in the sky and you sighed.
“I’m sorry again about earlier. I don’t normally… do that sort of stuff?” It came out like a question and you winced at how painful this conversation was so far.
If possible, Spencer blushed harder. “You really don’t have to apologize. Moon rituals have existed for many centuries, and people from all over the world take part in them. In fact…”
As he began a spiel on the cultural and religious significance of the moon, you couldn’t help but notice that this guy was actually really cute. Despite the nervous energy radiating off him, he was rather charming. He certainly knew a lot about the moon. You wondered what other fun facts he had stored up in that beautiful brain of his.
“Furthermore, there’s many interesting health benefits to spending more time naked, especially if—…”
“Wow, what sort of conversation did I just walk in on?”
Both you and Spencer turned to Morgan quickly at the interruption. The man had finished his phone call and was now looking at you both with raised eyebrows. It was your turn to blush. Next to you, Reid was sputtering.
“Actually,” Morgan said with a hint of amusement in his tone. “I don’t wanna know.”
Clearing his throat, Reid asked, “Was that Garcia?”
“Yeah, she got a positive identity for the unsub. Get this, the guy is a dentist: Dr. Michael Smith. He works at—…”
“Riverside Dental,” you finished, feeling positively ill. The two agents looked at you with shock on their faces.
“Do you know him?” Spencer asked, leaning forward in his seat.
Fighting the urge to gag, you nodded. “Yeah, I work with him!”
After that, things seemed to move like you were stuck in fast forward. Morgan called their unit chief while you told Spencer everything you knew about Dr. Smith. The more you talked, the more the timeline fell into place.
Dr. Smith was a relatively well-known dentist in the area. At the office, the staff loved him. He was a real “guy’s guy,” even started an office softball league. His time working there lined up with the last known disappearance that took place two states over. Then your aunt met James shortly after you started working. The agents determined that was not a coincidence. Since you matched the profile of their previous victims, Spencer guessed you were targeted from the minute you interviewed.
“But he’s been working at Riverside for 5 years. Why would he lay low until now?”
Spencer pressed his lips together into a thin line. The way he looked at you provided the answer to your question: Dr. Smith was waiting for the right woman to come along — and that happened to be you.
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” you mumbled, head spinning.
Spencer reached out to pat you reassuringly on the arm. You caught his hand and instead held it tightly with your own. He looked surprised for a moment, until he saw the tears welling up in your eyes.
“Don’t worry, we won’t let anyone hurt you,” he promised.
All you could do was nod.
-
It happened the next evening. A man, whom you helped to identify as Dr. Michael Smith after he was taken to police headquarters, was apprehended slinking around in the woods. He had a couple of syringes on him that tested positive for a strong sedative. In his vehicle, officers found zip ties, duck tape, and a collection of scalpels and other small blades. Even worse, they found multiple pictures of you on his phone — some taken surreptitiously from within the dental office where you both worked.
You shuddered at the thought of it.
Fortunately, James ratted his partner out the minute he got a whiff of a plea deal. That, coupled with your testimony and the evidence found, meant Dr. Michael Smith would be going away for quite some time. Finally, the nightmare was over.
The only thing you regretted was the thought of not getting to see Spencer again. You had requested that he be the one to stay in the house with you while the other responding agents and officers formed a perimeter around your aunt’s property.
In the short time you spent together, you decided you liked Spencer a lot. He was funny, a little awkward, and so astoundingly intelligent you felt smarter just from being around him. Plus, he was easy on the eyes. The guy could be a model if he ever wanted to get out of the FBI.
You wanted to give him your number so that you could meet again under better circumstances, but the time never felt right. So after all your statements were given and everything that could be considered evidence was turned in, you said goodbye to Spencer for the last time.
Or… so you thought.
It was months later, October now, and once again your aunt was off to the west coast. This time she was returning to meet up with the state trooper who had pulled her over.
“85 in a 50!” she told you with a laugh. “Marvin said he was a little disappointed when I pulled over immediately – I think he wanted a high speed chase. Imagine his surprise when he discovered one of America’s most wanted instead!” She winked. “And you can bet your bottom I didn’t get a speeding ticket.”
She even sent you a picture of them next to a cactus. From the way Marvin and her were gazing lovingly at each other, you almost had to wonder if this relationship would be the one that sticks.
Life gradually got back to normal. You took a brief sabbatical from work because going there was still pretty weird. Laurel, who called you almost every night you were gone, kept you up-to-snuff on the chit chat and rumors surrounding your nightmarish situation.
Notwithstanding the progress you made in healing, staying overnight at your aunt’s house was still a little too… traumatic. She understood completely and offered to pay someone to house sit in your absence. You assured her you could stop by every couple of days when it was daylight to check up on things, and she reluctantly agreed after you convinced her it was fine. She was dealing with a lot of guilt over everything, but you just wanted your semblance of normal back.
It was while you were driving home after having just visited the empty cottage that your phone rang. The number on the screen was not one you recognized, but you answered anyway. Something deep down told you it would be worth it to answer.
With the call on speakerphone, you said, “Hello?”
“Oh, uhh, hi!” a familiar voice responded. Your heart skipped several beats. “It’s Dr. Reid. I mean, Spencer. You can call me Spencer.”
You giggled before you could stop yourself. “I remember.” After a brief pause where you could only hear him shuffling around quietly on the other end, you asked, “How can I help you, Spencer?”
“Yeah! Right, of course. Actually, well, your aunt gave me this number. We have some personal belongings that were recovered and we wanted to make sure you knew about it.”
Your stomach suddenly felt like a cement mixer.
“What kind of personal belongings?” you asked.
“A work ID… a water bottle… and a sweater.”
You frowned deeply though he could not see it. “Is the sweater all chunky knit and pink?”
“Yes,” Spencer answered after a beat.
“Damn, that was my favorite one,” you sighed. “I noticed stuff going missing but I never thought…” You let the sentence trail.
The line was quiet again for a moment until Spencer said, “I can just… get rid of them. You know, if you want.”
You sniffled as a mixture of feelings waged a war in your heart. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best.”
Glancing out the window, the nearly-full moon caught your eye and brought you back to that night. Everything felt like such a blur, but the memory of Spencer and his kindness stayed sharp in your mind. Suddenly, you were feeling very bold.
“Hey, this might be weird, but… are you doing anything right now?”
Silence. Then, “I was actually just about to go home for the night. Why, uhm… why do you ask?”
You swallowed your nerves. “I kinda don’t want to be alone right now… Would you wanna, maybe, hang out with me?”
There was more silence. Just as you started berating yourself internally, Spencer asked, “Where are you at?”
“On my way to my apartment.”
“You really shouldn’t talk on the phone while driving,” he surprised you by saying. “It’s dangerous.”
You couldn’t keep yourself from smiling. “Are you worried about me, Spencer Reid?”
You heard shuffling around on the other end. “Yes— I mean, no. I mean—! Ugh, stop laughing.”
You bit your lip to stifle the giggles that bubbled out of you like carbonation in a soda bottle.
“You’re still laughing,” Spencer noted, but he sounded very amused. “I’ll head over now. What’s the address?”
Almost two hours later, Spencer Reid was knocking on your door. He was nervous. Granted, he was usually pretty nervous in general. But this – this was legit nervous.
You answered pretty quickly and Spencer felt his breath leave him in a rush. You were just as beautiful as he remembered you being. Even fully-clothed and not bathed in moonlight, you still looked like a goddess to him.
He swallowed dryly as the image from that night back in June popped unbidden into his head. He tried hard not to think about it. Really, he did. He was a gentleman, after all. He wasn’t supposed to have seen you like that. But yet, every night since it happened, all he could see was you whenever he closed his eyes.
He was under your spell, whether you realized it or not.
“Damn, what took you so long?” you greeted him with a grin and a teasing sparkle to your eyes.
Spencer anxiously fiddled with the shoulder strap to his satchel as he followed you inside the apartment. “Sorry! I don’t actually have a car.”
Your smile dropped.
“And you still came all the way here?! You really didn’t have to do that.”
“No, it’s fine!” Spencer never intended to make you feel bad. Gathering his courage, he met your eyes and told you the truth: “I wanted to see you.”
A blush rapidly reddened your cheeks. Flustered, you turned away to tend to something on the stove. Spencer found it rather endearing. He seemed to have some kind of effect on you and it boosted his ego a little.
In moments, the delicious aroma in the air caught his attention. He moved to where you stood by the stove stirring a pot of sauce. The savory scent of garlic and butter wafted up from the oven. His stomach growled loudly.
“Hungry?” you asked with a cheeky, little smile.
Spencer laughed. “Yeah, I guess so.”
Pretty soon you were serving up steaming bowls of rotini with chunky veggie tomato sauce and crostini. It looked and smelled mouthwatering. At the first bite, Spencer was in love.
“My aunt taught me how to make my own sauce,” you told him between bites.
Spencer asked about your other hobbies and you slipped into easy conversation. It was exactly like the first night you spent with him (without the undercurrent of fear clouding your mind). That night was definitely one of the worst you’d ever lived, but through it all you realized you felt quite comfortable around the agent. He really helped you out when it came to staying calm and feeling safe. You two had talked well into the wee hours of the morning until you eventually fell asleep on the couch.
Unbeknownst to you, Spencer didn’t leave your side once while you dozed.
Now he was here in your apartment enjoying a meal you cooked. The whole thing felt almost dreamlike, something out of fantasy. You realized you had missed him without even really knowing him. Spencer had missed you, too. That was why he jumped at the opportunity to come over.
It wasn’t long until you were both full and contently lounging on the couch. The dishes could wait — this time together felt too precious to waste doing chores.
Spencer was enthusiastically educating you on the history of pasta and you listened with rapt attention. He was so knowledgeable and willing to share it all, like a sentient encyclopedia. You could listen to him for days.
Something in your chest squeezed but you tamped it down. No need to get ahead of yourself, right? Just enjoy this time together.
“Do I have something in my teeth?” Spencer asked suddenly.
Surprised, you replied, “What?” A confused pause, then, “No. Why do you ask?”
“Because you keep staring at my mouth,” he answered matter-of-factly.
He wasn’t usually so bold, but something about you brought it out in him. He liked how responsive you were, particularly because it was so genuine. Nothing you did was to put up a front — you were simply, unapologetically you.
“Am I really that obvious?” you asked sheepishly.
Spencer's warm, brown eyes twinkled with mirth. “Yeah, kind of.”
“Sorry. I just… I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”
Your admission raised Spencer’s eyebrows nearly into his hairline. “R-really?”
You nodded shyly.
“I know our first meeting was,” you struggled to find the right word for a moment. “Unconventional,” you finally said, clearly referring to how he found you naked and dancing under a full moon. “But, I’m glad it turned out the way it did.”
Spencer and you were facing each other on the couch now, so close your knees were touching.
“That was definitely a new one for me,” he teased. His tongue wet his lower lip and your eyes followed the movement.
You swallowed, nerves and excitement causing your stomach to do somersaults. “Me, too. I’m not usually that brave.”
“Given everything that happened after, I think you’re incredibly brave.”
You blushed. “Th-thank you.”
Spencer and you had drifted closer still. He really liked the color of your eyes. Your nose nearly brushed his when you shifted position. You could feel each other’s body heat.
“I have to confess something,” he whispered into the small space left between your mouths. You pulled back some to meet his gaze, waiting. “I volunteered to call you about your stuff because I wanted to talk to you again.”
You’d had a sneaking suspicion that was the case. It was cute hearing him admit it out loud.
“I thought that was a little under your pay grade,” you joked.
Both of your heart beats were racing wildly. Spencer’s eyes flickered down to your lips. You shifted even closer, almost into Spencer’s lap. His hands twitched nervously with his desire to touch you. He reached out and cupped your cheek gently, the other hand resting on one of your knees.
“I really want to kiss you.”
Your stomach swooped with anxious excitement.
“Then kiss me.”
So Spencer did just that. The hand on your cheek guided your mouth to his and it felt like magic. The image of you bathed in pale moonlight and surrounded by the blooming garden popped into mind again. You were a goddess; he wanted to worship you.
Your lips yielded to the gentle pressure of his questing tongue. The kisses intensified quickly after that. You simply couldn’t get enough of each other. The feeling of his hands in your hair, the taste of his mouth — all of it went straight to your dizzy head. You pressed your body closer and closer until Spencer reclined backwards, taking you with him.
Sprawled across his warm chest, you could feel how hard his heart was beating through the thin fabrics of your clothing. You were totally absorbed by him: the ticklish brush of his long fingers up and down your sides, the pressure of his tongue against yours, the scent of his mild cologne.
Spencer treated you very gently, almost like you could break. Everything he did was full of affection, but you had an inkling he was holding back. Determined to prove you weren’t made of porcelain, you straddled your lover’s waist and pressed your core against him.
The friction caused you both to gasp and the kiss was broken.
“Is this okay?” you asked breathlessly.
Spencer nodded frantically. You barely got a good look at his flushed face and swollen lips before he was surging up to connect your mouths again.
This kiss was ferocious. He practically devoured you. In response, you fisted your hands in his hair and tugged slightly. Spencer groaned into your mouth and the heat in your belly grew from a spark to a raging fire.
Impassioned, you broke away again to suggest moving to the bedroom. The wide-eyed look of surprise Spencer gave you caused laughter to spill forth from between your thoroughly-kissed lips.
“Is it— it’s not too fast, is it?” he stammered.
“Not if we both want the same thing,” you answered, voice trembling with the intensity of your desire.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met,” he confessed suddenly, seriously. “I can’t get the image of you from that night out of my head.”
Your heart might actually burst.
“Spencer, I… I feel something here.”
Spencer began to shift his lower region away from you with a hasty apology.
“Wait—! That’s not what…” you began to laugh again, catching him by the belt loops before he could squirm too far away. “That’s not what I meant.”
Red with embarrassment, Spencer smiled sheepishly.
You pressed on, “I really like you. I think that we could make each other happy, you know?”
The burst of emotion Spencer felt from hearing you say that was almost overwhelming. He had to work hard to breathe properly and not hyperventilate. Was he really so lucky that you felt it, too? Could he allow himself to dream that big?
“I agree,” Spencer timidly admitted. “I’m not really… used to these sorts of things, but I know what I want.”
You stared at him, doe-eyed and anxious. “And what is it that you want?”
Spencer licked his lips while nerves he felt began to multiply at an alarming pace.
“A relationship,” he answered, looking at his hands. “Dating, getting to know each other.” He glanced up to look deeply into your eyes. “You. I want… I want you.”
Happiness was too small a word. His words filled your heart to bursting. He wanted you! This was actually happening. You couldn’t keep the beaming, 100-watt smile off your face nor stop the joyful tears that sprang into your eyes. Flinging yourself into his arms, you enveloped Spencer in a tight hug which he affectionately returned.
“Does that mean you want all that, too?” he asked into your hair.
Unable to speak past the lump in your throat, you nodded enthusiastically. Spencer huffed a little laugh and only pulled you closer.
Under the silvery light of the moon streaming in through the living room window, something magical came to be.