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Derek Morgan isn’t necessarily a betting man, but if he was, he would put money on the fact that Spencer Reid has at least a portion, if not the entirety, of the dictionary memorized.
Derek can’t say the same for himself, but ever since he met Reid - incredibly smart, sensitive, dedicated, beautiful Reid - Derek has become an expert on a dictionary of his own. Derek begins creating what he fondly thinks of as The Comprehensive Dictionary of Spencer Reid maybe a month after meeting the kid, and he thinks he’ll consider it a work in progress until he takes his dying breath. It exists only in his mind and only for his reference, but Derek calls upon the knowledge contained in his unofficial guide to Spencer at least once a day.
If he had to write it down, it would look something like this:
Addiction
ad·dic·tion
/əˈdikSH(ə)n/
noun
The fact or condition of being addicted to a particular substance, thing, or activity
Nestled away in the Notes app of Derek’s phone, several scrolls of a finger past forgotten shopping lists and long since completed to-dos, is a single unremarkable note. It has no title and contains no words. Just a number. Today, that number reads 1,916.
A little over 5 years ago, though, it read 1.
When Derek makes the first few entries, he knows how absolutely unhinged it is to secretly keep track of a coworker’s sobriety. But he’s a profiler. It’s what he does. He also knows what a futile effort it is to try and deny that this habit ever was for anyone else’s comfort and benefit but his own. Days 1, 2, 3, 4, and many days thereafter are also spent trying to convince himself that these actions are the completely reasonable and platonic actions of a friend and coworker. (Derek isn’t sure exactly which day it happens on, but eventually he stops trying to convince himself of this).
Tobias Hankel wreaked havoc on the sanity and stability of his team. He upended the life of one of their most trustworthy and dependable members and sent him into a downward Dilaudid spiral. After this, things were different.
Derek is smart enough to know that addicts are always considered to be “recovering”, never “recovered”. Once Reid emerges, clean and on the path of recovery, Derek pays close attention to the younger man. He knows that recovery comes in fits and starts with ups and downs and is never linear. He knows this and recognizes it often in Reid. He knows what Reid’s bad days look like - when he’s short tempered and volatile, slinging biting remarks left and right and moving frenetically from place to place. On these days, Derek swears that he can feel Reid’s cravings himself, impossible as that is.
Reid’s better days are the polar opposite. Filled with sharp witted responses and good humor, Reid is himself again. He is playful, energetic, and focused. He is at peace. And in the same way that Derek shares sympathetic cravings on the bad days, on the good days, he basks in the almost tangible glow of Spencer’s contentment.
Day 1,916 was a good day. When Derek thinks back, he’s fairly certain that days 1,915, 1,914, and 1,913 were also good days despite the fact that at least one of those days was spent in a rural Utah town investigating a series of grisly hangings. Lately, the good days are more common than the bad. Derek isn’t giving himself all of the credit for this, but he thinks he may play a part. At least, he hopes he does.
Derek watches the rise and fall of Spencer’s back as the younger man slumbers face down in the bed next to him. Spencer’s hair, longer and in need of a trim, is splayed out messily on the sides of his head across the pillow’s navy blue case. His breathing is deep and even. In the soft moonlight filtering through the curtains, Derek catalogs the small imperfections in the milky skin of Spencer’s back: freckles and moles here and there; a small scar about an inch long near his left shoulder blade. He commits each of these to memory not for the first time. Hopefully not for the last. And when the clock on Derek’s phone turns over to 12:01 AM, he opens the Notes app to make a single edit to one well-concealed note:
1,917.
Bisexuality
bīˌsekSHəˈwalədē/
noun
the quality or characteristic of being sexually or romantically attracted to both men and women, or to more than one sex or gender
Spencer drops a bomb on Derek with little fanfare.
They’re in the middle of a case in Scottsdale, Arizona. It’s early evening and Derek, Spencer, and Prentiss are gathered around a rickety police station table reviewing the notes they’ve taken so far.
“The unsub’s propensity to target homosexual males and then pose their bodies in such a manner suggests he’s at the very least somewhat romantically interested in men,” Spencer says, skimming a report absentmindedly.
And the comment slips out before Derek can think better or rephrase or just stop himself: “Somewhat interested?” He asks almost playfully.
Spencer levels a serious look at him before he continues.
“Sexuality is fluid. We’ve come a long way from recognizing just hetero and homosexual. About 7.1% of Americans identify as LGBTQI, which includes bisexual. As one of that 7.1% I can assure you that sexuality is far from black and white.”
Prentiss chimes in with another point but Derek is still blindsided. He’s realizing now that his coworker, who he may or may not have a small thing for, just casually admitted to liking both men and women while also implying that this was no big deal at all.
This information is a lot for Derek to process.
Derek can’t quite put his finger on when exactly he had his big gay panic moment, but he assumes it came sometime in his early 20s when the reality of the childhood trauma he suffered started to eat away at him. He remembers wondering if the fact that he found women and men beautiful and sexy in passing was purely a symptom and consequence of what Buford did to him. He spends years trying to quiet that part of himself. To put out the flames of desire that wick away at his core every time he spots an attractive and available man. He overcompensates by pursuing carnal pleasures with women only and hoping against hope that one day he will wake up and be normal, whatever that word even means.
It takes a few years of forgotten blackout partying evenings and regretful mornings-after to realize that he’s never going to wake up “normal”. When he comes to terms with this, he does so quietly, accepting that a part of him exists that he will never acknowledge or embrace.
The world changes around him, though. Slowly but surely it does. And Spencer’s frank discussion of sexuality highlights what Derek has been thinking for some time: maybe this is okay. Maybe this will be okay.
It doesn’t happen overnight, but things do end up turning out more than okay.
Coffee
cof·fee
/ˈkôfē,ˈkäfē/
noun
a hot drink made from the roasted and ground seeds (coffee beans) of a tropical shrub
The BAU breakroom coffee sucks. This is a well known fact that everyone seems to have reluctantly accepted with no desire to change. On multiple occasions, Derek has witnessed each of his coworkers take a reluctant sip of a mug of breakroom coffee and wince. He doesn’t dwell on why no one ever brings better coffee or a fancier machine in. Some mysteries are doomed to never be solved.
Something changes, though, on an unremarkable Thursday in March.
Derek, Spencer, and JJ are congregated in the breakroom while a fresh pot of coffee brews.
“Did you know that the origins of modern coffee can be traced back to ancient coffee forests of Ethiopia?” Spencer asks, watching the dark liquid slowly drip into the clear carafe. Derek and JJ shake their heads.
“Legend says that a goat herder named Kaldi noticed that his goats would get super energetic after eating berries from a certain tree. A monk at a local monastery brewed a drink with the berries after Kaldi told him about his goats. The first cup of coffee.”
Reid removes the now full carafe from the machine and pours out 3 steaming hot mugs, which he distributes amongst himself, JJ, and Derek. Without even tasting it, Reid rips open and dumps several packets of sugar into his mug. Then he takes a sip from his mug and cringes, wrinkling his nose afterwards.
“What do you think Kaldi would think of this brew, pretty boy?” Derek asks good naturedly.
Reid chuckles before replying, “He’d be furious.”
And that should be the end of it. But for some reason (which Derek is very determinately not thinking about or addressing, thank you very much), watching Spencer hate the breakroom coffee so much starts Derek on a mission. He spends a few hours of his free time researching coffee quality and brewing techniques before he has an Amazon cart full of supplies. He settles on a fancy pour over system that, when unboxed and examined, looks like an intimidating hourglass wrapped in wood and leather. The electric pour-over kettle is no less intimidating, but Derek is a determined man.
He carries his new coffee making supplies in with him on a Tuesday morning disguised in an unassuming grocery bag and stashes them in a random cabinet in the breakroom. Judging by the film of dust on the cabinet’s shelves, it’s unused, so there’s little risk of anyone finding these supplies.
Midway through the morning as the team quietly works through a backlog of paperwork, Derek gets up and heads to the breakroom. He follows instructions that he has pulled up on his phone for the perfect pour. Grounds in the filter, pour a bit of hot water from the kettle over them in a circle, watch gas bubbles rise from the grounds, and wait wait wait until the bubbles are gone before continuing to pour, always in circular motions. No one interrupts Derek’s ritual, and just a few minutes later, he has 2 steaming mugs of lovingly brewed coffee to show for it. He takes a sip of the mug he claims for himself and is blown away. The brew is smooth, bold, rich, and without a hint of acidity. In short, after the addition of 3 packets of sugar into Spencer’s mug, it’s perfect.
He deposits the second mug on Spencer’s desk with little fanfare. It takes the genius a few minutes to wrest his attention away from the paperwork in front of him, but Derek watches when Spencer finally takes his first sip.
The look of absolute bliss on Spencer’s face cracks Derek’s fragile resolve, and suddenly he feels much less able to not think about why Spencer’s enjoyment of coffee is so important to him.
“This is possibly the best cup of coffee I’ve ever had in my life, Morgan,” Reid tells him quietly across his desk.
Derek grins and replies, “I thought you might like it.”
“Thank you,” Spencer says almost reverently.
Spencer returns to his paperwork nursing the cup of coffee throughout, and something in Derek snaps as he continues to watch him. Any chance he had of ignoring his complicated feelings for the genius is lost.
“Would you want to get dinner sometime? With me? Just us?” Derek asks Spencer quietly so as not to be overheard, and curses himself for the awkward stilted nature of the question. What happened to all of his legendary game? Why had it chosen this moment to desert him?
But Spencer doesn’t seem to notice. Instead, he smiles a genuine, toothy smile, and nods.
“I’d love that,” he replies.
Home
/hōm/
noun
The place where one lives permanently, especially as a member of a family or household
Morgan only plans to flip one house. When he buys the first property, a small 3 bedroom in a quiet working class neighborhood, he’s thinking about the ability to pad his retirement savings a bit more. He doesn’t expect to fall in love with it. Something about the process of demolishing and rebuilding a home quiets his mind and allows him to breathe. Taking sledgehammer to structure helps him forget the terrible things they’re liable to see at work and rebuilding something from the ground up fills him with a quiet calmness.
He’s signing the closing documents for the fourth property in his attorney’s office, happily chatting about its features when he realizes the irony of his situation. Derek still rents an apartment. He’s poured his sweat, blood, (occasional) tears, and most of his free time into four properties only to watch them get sold to excited homebuyers who aren’t him. He’s spent hundreds, if not thousands, of hours creating permanence for other people when he’s devoid of it himself.
House number 5, he decides, is going to be for him.
He spends a few weeks after the sale of house number 4 casually browsing homes for sale in the area. He wants to be decently close to work, so that narrows his search down significantly, and obviously wants to stay within a reasonable price range. He asks his realtor, Heather, to help him find homes that may be getting overlooked by buyers. Homes in need of a full gut rehab. Then, he spends some time driving through the neighborhoods she sends him listings from. It’s a process, but this house isn’t for a stranger. It’s for him and it needs to be perfect.
Seven weeks later, he and his realtor walk through an old two story Victorian home in desperate need of some love. Heather points out the features as they move from room to room. She knows she can be honest with Derek about how much work a place will need, so she doesn’t shy away from the bad.
“Given the age of the property, I’m pretty sure this is lead paint,” she says, chipping a small bit of flaking white off of a doorframe. Derek thinks she’s probably right.
“The wood is gorgeous, though,” Derek responds, running his hand along a solid oak banister leading to the second floor.
“It really is. I know the kind of work you do to these places, Derek. I really think you could turn this place into something amazing,” she tells him.
The house is a disaster. It’s dilapidated, dusty, and dated. Probably the only salvageable thing throughout the place is the oak flooring and other woodwork. The rest of it will need to be torn down to the studs and then rebuilt. Derek adores it, but that’s not quite enough.
Heather is locking the front door behind them and placing the key back into the secure lockbox when she asks him, “So, what do you think? Should we write up an offer?”
“Not yet,” he tells her. “There’s one more opinion I need.”
To her credit, Heather doesn’t seem to make any assumptions about the situation when Derek shows up to the house the next day, a cheerful Spencer in tow. Even when Derek laces his fingers together with Spencer’s and the two men share a look, Heather doesn’t say anything to imply that she assumes this house will have Spencer living in it. Derek loves this about her and knows there’s a reason he continues to call on her again and again for his property sales.
She takes Spencer through the house just like she did with Derek the day before, pointing out its gorgeous features along with the things that need work (which is pretty much the whole place, Derek will admit). When they circle back around to the entryway, she looks at her phone briefly before letting the two men know she needs to step out for a call. Derek doesn’t have a chance to read into whether that’s true or not, but he appreciates the moment to themselves either way.
“So,” Derek starts. “What do you think?”
Spencer bounces on the balls of his feet, smiling.
“It’s beautiful. I bet you could make this place look amazing, Derek,” Spencer tells him.
“Notice anything that worried you? Know any obscure facts about lead paint or mold or anything like that?” Derek asks with a smile.
“Well,” Spencer starts. “Lead paint is—“
Derek cuts him off with a kiss. Public displays of affection, if you could call kissing your boyfriend in an empty house that, are something they’re getting more and more comfortable with. As Spencer’s lips move against Derek’s, slotting together with his own perfectly, Derek remains in awe that he gets to do this.
They break apart slowly, still standing close to one another.
“It’s beautiful, Derek,” Spencer tells him, beaming.
Heather comes back in the front door then, apologizing for the wait, but Derek assures her it’s no big deal.
“Let’s write up an offer,” he announces.
Derek goes to the closing alone, because he is the one buying this house. He knows he has no business assuming Spencer is going to want any part of this financial obligation, especially as part of a relatively new relationship, so he doesn’t broach the subject.
He does make one change to the paperwork, though. After a call to the loan officer handling the financing of this place and his attorney, and then a short closing, Derek leaves with the deed to his brand new house. It grants the property to one Derek Morgan and one Spencer Reid.
Derek’s attorney advises him that this isn’t the best plan - having Spencer on the deed but not the mortgage is giving him a share in a property but no financial obligation. Derek knows. He’s surprised the bank who is handling his mortgage even let him do this, but he doesn’t care.
He’s in this for the long term.
An hour later, Derek gets the keys to the house, a large pizza, some beers and sodas, and picks Spencer up from his apartment. They eat dinner picnic style on the floor of the dusty, empty living room and propose what should be done to each room.
“How would you feel about doing this project together?” Derek asks, trying not to let his voice betray his nervousness.
“Derek, I would love to. But I’m not sure how I could do anything but get in your way. You may not have noticed, but I’m not going to be particularly helpful when it comes to demolition,” Spencer comments wryly.
“Pretty boy, you don’t need to be here breaking down walls and shit. I can teach you how if you want to, though. But you could sit in the same room with me and just keep me company and even that would make this project 100 times easier.”
Derek leans over and kisses Spencer, greasy pizza breath and all, and thinks that this may be the start of his greatest project yet.
The house takes months and months of backbreaking work and consumes pretty much all of their free time. It sounds grueling, but Derek cannot imagine a better situation.
Between cases, they spend most of their time at the house. Spencer and Derek work on it room by room at a casual pace, and it’s perfect. Slowly, it begins to transform from a dilapidated old Victorian with good bones into something resembling a liveable and carefully preserved old house. They finish the master bathroom quickly because that allows them to shower and relieve themselves without making a separate trip. After that, they start on the master bedroom. Derek tears down old drywall and puts up new stuff. Spencer takes on the project of refinishing the oak flooring. Eventually, the room is painted a neutral blue-gray and they graduate from sleeping on an air mattress that was hell on both of their backs to an actual bed. They spend most nights in the house because there’s always work to be done.
Derek notices early on that Spencer’s stuff starts to migrate to the construction site little by little. First, his go bag, just in case work calls unexpectedly. Then, he starts to bring books and board games with him so that they can have some fun during their down time. A small pile of entertainment items forms in the corner of the living room and they keep it covered in plastic to protect it from dust before they move these precious items to the master bedroom upon its completion. Spencer’s regular clothes follow slowly and then blankets and pillows from his apartment filter in one by one. Derek treasures each of these items and loves their presence. They remind him that Spencer is slowly becoming inextricably linked with him, and the thought fills him with happiness like he’s never felt before.
They finish the house in the spring.
Derek and Spencer oversee the installation of the kitchen’s brand new fridge, the last appliance they were waiting on, and once Derek shuts the door behind the delivery man, he turns around to find Spencer right in front of him.
They embrace at the same time, sharing a deep kiss before breaking apart. Derek holds Spencer’s face in his hands and presses their foreheads together, eyes shut.
“We did it, pretty boy,” he says quietly.
“Yeah. It’s incredible,” Spencer responds.
And it truly is. The house represents so much growth and hard work that it’s hard to describe. They confessed their love to each other in this house (“I’m in love with you,” Spencer had said as he watched Derek wipe sweat and drywall dust from his brow. Derek had nearly fallen over, but he made sure to tell Spencer just how much he loved him, too, and then they stopped working on the house for a little bit, too caught up in each other).
They celebrated their first anniversary at an upscale restaurant just hours after finishing the paint job in the home office. They made love on every flat surface of this house, getting sweaty and dirty and loving every minute of it every time.
The house stands before them, under them, and around them, covered floor to ceiling in reminders of how devoted they are to one another, even though it’s only been a little over a year. Derek is overwhelmed by how much he loves the man standing before him, and he decides now is the time to make clear what this was all about.
“So,” Spencer starts, “What now? Do you list it immediately? If you do, we’re going to need some time to get all of our stuff out.”
Derek gives Spencer a peck on the lips before reassuring him he’ll be right back. He runs out to his car and, from under the driver’s seat, grabs a thin embossed envelope. The initials S.R. in gold decorate the outside.
Back inside, he holds it close to him for a second.
“Listen Spencer,” he says, painfully nervous. This is everything he’s been working towards. If this crashes and burns, he’s not sure what he’ll do. But Spencer is looking at him so earnestly that Derek keeps going.
“There’s a few things I haven’t told you about this place,” Derek says. “One of those things is that I don’t think I’m going to sell it. But there’s also one other pretty important thing you should know.”
He hands Spencer the envelope and watches as the other man uses long graceful fingers to tear its seal. He sees the exact second (it’s almost instantaneous with how fast Spencer reads) that the other man recognizes his part ownership in the property. Derek waits nervously for a response.
“Oh,” Spencer says breathily.
“Good ‘oh’? Or bad ‘oh’?” Derek responds when Spencer stays still.
Spencer remains still for a minute and Derek starts to worry. Maybe he fucked this up and maybe this was the wrong decision and who the hell buys someone they’re in love with an entire damn house. But he stops spiraling almost as soon as he starts when Spencer throws long lithe arms around his waist and holds him tight, burying his face in the place where Derek’s neck meets his shoulder.
“You, Derek Morgan, are the greatest thing that has ever happened to me,” Spencer whispers, and Derek can feel his skin being wet by tears.
He knows then that this was the right decision after all.
Nickname
nick·name
noun
A familiar or humorous name given to a person or thing instead of or as well as the real name
Early on in their time at the BAU, Derek finds out about Spencer’s confession to Gideon - that only one person in the world calls him Spence. He knows that Spencer and that person, who happens to be JJ, go on a date but that both parties remain tight lipped about what happened on said date.
What he doesn’t know at the time is why the entire situation slowly but steadily gnaws annoyingly at him.
The first time “pretty boy” rolls off his tongue, it feels like the universe subtly rights itself.
That nickname holds steady for some time. Derek is free with his affection, both physical and verbal. He is always willing to offer open arms in someone’s time of need and a soothing voice to boot. But there’s a privilege he reserves for only two people in the entire universe: a flirty nickname.
Penelope is Derek’s platonic soulmate. He is convinced that they are two halves of the same being and he loves her to the end of the universe and back. She is his rock, his closest confidante, his biggest cheerleader, and his baby girl.
But Reid. Shy, gangly, awkward Reid blossoms into a strong, confident, but still (delightfully) awkward man before Derek’s eyes. He becomes Derek’s pretty boy without Derek even realizing it’s happening until one day the nickname slips out, and the future is irreparably changed.
Spencer must notice this. Every time he uses the nickname, especially in the beginning, Derek notes the subtle reddening of the younger man’s cheeks and the infinitesimally small smile that appears for the briefest of moments.
After they get together, the nicknames only grow in number.
The pet names seem to form themselves without conscious thought in Derek’s brain and slip out before he can even register them. It happens for the first time while they’re on a case. Spencer and Derek are on their way to interview a suspect in a rural Kentucky town. They’re making their way along a deserted forest lined back road, Derek driving while Spencer rattles off statistics about stabbings and crimes of passion.
Derek sees the deer just as it darts in front of the SUV and quickly slams on the vehicle’s brakes. He reaches his right arm out without even thinking about it, bracing it in front of Spencer to protect him from an impact. Spencer yelps, startled, and Derek feels the SUV’s seatbelts lock up at the sudden stop. They’re still for a few seconds as the startled but unscathed deer finishes its sprint across the road. Derek sighs audibly as the sound of his pounding adrenaline filled heart echoes in his ears.
“You alright, baby boy?” He asks, looking in Spencer’s direction. Spencer’s cheeks heat up just as Derek registers the never-before-used pet name that just came out of his mouth.
“I- yeah. Yeah, I’m alright,” Spencer responds, breathless.
“I didn’t see him there. That could’ve been a disaster,” Derek says.
“You called me baby boy,” Spencer responds matter of fact.
“Well. You are, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. I guess I am. You’ve just never called me that before.”
“Is that okay?” Derek asks him, not wanting to push boundaries or make Spencer uncomfortable.
“It’s definitely okay,” Spencer replies, a smile in his tone.
Derek slowly accelerates, continuing on to their destination despite the interruption. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Spencer gently touch one of his flaming red cheeks and smile.
The nicknames come naturally to Derek. Baby boy, baby, babe, and sweetheart being his favorites. He calls Spencer by nicknames more than his actual name anytime they’re out of the office because each time is like the first time. Spencer is bashful and embarrassed and so beautiful when he blushes and preens under the praise. Derek would give anything, absolutely anything, to keep Spencer like that forever - to be able to shield him from the horrors of what they do for a living and keep him blissfully happy in his warm embrace. He knows he can’t keep Spencer shielded from the harsh realities of the world all of the time. Something like that is out of his control. Instead, he focuses on what he can do for Spencer: remind his baby boy how loved he is any chance he gets. This will have to be enough.
Security
/səˈkyo͝orədē/
noun
The state of being free from danger or threat
As a child, Derek has a blanket that he is unreasonably attached to. It’s one of his baby blankets, a soft yellow square dotted with baby blue rubber ducks. Despite his sisters mocking him every chance they get, Derek never goes anywhere without it from the ages of 2 to 5. He loves this blanket, cherishes it with every ounce of his being, and convinces himself that if the blanket is with him, he is safe.
On a family trip to the beach when Derek is 5, the blanket is lost forever. Caught in a late August gust of wind, it is unexpectedly pulled into Lake Michigan. Derek watches in horror as the fabric twists and glides through the air, crying out and trying to run after it, before his mother grabs him and pins his arms to his side. He is inconsolable for hours afterwards. He blames his mother for not letting him run headfirst into the lake. He blames his sisters and father for not snatching his most prized possession out of the air as it whipped away from him. He blames himself for carelessly letting it get blown away.
Derek thinks about that late summer trauma sometimes, even as an adult. He wonders if it’s why he is so determined to be a protector of others. He kicks down doors, rushes towards danger, and is always willing to sacrifice his own safety as long as it means potentially preventing someone else’s suffering. He’s no therapist, but he’s sure that on some level, his irrational and stupid attachment to that baby blanket and its loss had some effect on him as an adult.
Derek is used to being a protector and he takes on that role naturally any chance he can get. But being a protector is sometimes a heavy burden to bear.
He worries constantly. He worries about his team. About Penelope. About his mom and sisters back in Chicago. He worries about the families of the victims they couldn’t save and the safety of the victims they often find themselves racing to rescue. Derek’s worries are sometimes too much for him to bear. It feels like the weight of saving the entire world has been entrusted to just him and he is slowly being crushed by it. Bad things will always happen. There will always be people he can’t save.
He worries that getting close to Spencer will just add to his burden. One more person who he deeply loves for him to constantly fret about.
Instead, loving Spencer feels like freedom.
Spencer is there on his worst days, a comforting presence to reassure him that it isn’t his fault when someone can’t be saved. He is there to softly and melodically recite poetry or novels from memory to Derek on sleepless nights. He is there to be held with almost crushing force to Derek’s chest when the older man needs reassurance that they are both alive. Spencer is always, always there.
For the first time in Derek’s life, it feels like someone is sharing the unbearable weight of saving the world with him.
They decide to tell the team about their relationship at Thanksgiving. The house is finished and they are both moved in, slipping into cohabitation seamlessly. There are bits and pieces of both of them littering every room, creating a balance between Derek’s sleek bachelor décor and Spencer’s cozy library style that just works.
No one knows they’re living together. Although they each quietly updated their address in the federal government’s payroll system and changed their emergency contacts to one another, these small changes went unnoticed, even by Penelope the self-proclaimed tech goddess herself, because no one even thought to look for them.
Derek sends out an email to the team letting them know he’s going to be hosting a Thanksgiving open house this year and that all are welcome. He doesn’t mention any more details than the start time.
The team filters in slowly on the day of. Penelope comes an hour early with a bouquet of fresh flowers and homemade cranberry sauce. Spencer opens the door for her when she rings the bell and she seems startled at first.
“Boy genius!” She exclaims, drawing him into a tight hug. “I see I’m not the only one here early to help out!”
Spencer smiles and says hello to her, but doesn’t correct her. Not yet. He leads her back to the kitchen and watches her hug Derek in greeting.
The rest of the team arrives one by one, JJ and Hotch with their respective kids in tow. Derek leads everyone on a tour of the house and listens to their appreciative “oooo”s and “ahhh”s as they go room by room. Spencer stays at the back of the pack, regaling Henry with random facts about dinosaurs, much to his godson’s delight.
When the group finally makes it to the last stop on the tour, the master bathroom, Spencer knows that their secret is about to be revealed.
It doesn’t take long for Emily’s voice to be heard: “Two toothbrushes? Something you want to tell us, Derek?” She says jokingly.
“Who’s the lucky lady?” JJ asks with a chuckle.
Spencer pushes his way to the front of the pack then, stopping to stand next to Derek. Derek smiles down lovingly at him before slinging an arm around his waist.
“Surprise?” Derek says, laughing heartily.
“Holy crap!” Penelope exclaims.
And then it’s chaos from there.
Penelope is excruciatingly excited, peppering them with questions and practically vibrating out of her skin. JJ hugs Spencer and tells him she’s so happy he’s found the right person. Emily is patting Derek on the back. Hotch and Rossi are smiling. The kids have absolutely no idea what is going on.
The room fills with a palpable sense of celebration and joy. Derek tries as best he can without an eidetic memory to commit every millisecond of this moment to memory. On his darkest days, during the most heart wrenching and exhausting cases, when he is at his most vulnerable and scared, he hopes to be able to remember this time in perfect clarity and draw strength from it.
The thing that matters most, though - the thing that he knows will keep his head above water when he starts to feel like he is hopeless and drowning - is the warm body next to him.
Derek squeezes Spencer’s waist tighter through the chaos, perfectly anchoring them both in the blissful chaotic present.