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You press a hand to your abdomen, trying to stop it from shaking with laughter at something Hotch just said. He’s laughing too, albeit in a more composed fashion, and offering you an arm to lean on so you don’t trip. You have to admit you like it when he shows this side of himself, changing from your boss into your friend. You’re also glad that you make him comfortable enough to let loose around you after hours, even if it is partly because he knows no one would ever believe you if you told them about these interactions.
“Alright, I believe this is you”, he says as you reach your front door. He’d insisted on walking you home after he found you doing overtime again. You finally get your breathing back under control as you look up at your door.
“Yes it is. Thanks for walking with me. See you tomorrow?”
“See you tomorrow. And please try to get some decent sleep tonight”.
The sly grin you direct his way is basically an unspoken “no promises”, but he knows you’ll try. It’s not your fault you have a sleeping disorder, and he knows you’ve gotten better at handling it lately.
“Say goodnight to Jack for me!”, you call after him as he starts walking away, and he waves at you to indicate that he heard you.
You let yourself in, the last remnants of a smile on your face, and lock the door behind you. You hang up your coat and walk into the main living space, rolling your neck to relieve some tension as you do so.
“Let there be light”, you joke to yourself as you lean over to turn on the big lamp by your sofa.
But just as quickly as you’ve brought light into the room, someone else takes it away from you again. In your surprised state you’re not sure what is pressed against your face by your attacker, but your best guess would be a thick, black scarf. Screaming is not really an option with the big, strong hand clasped tightly over your mouth.
Your instincts kick in, literally, as you bring your leg up and quickly thrust it back towards the man, hoping to hit his knee. You’re not so lucky though, and you’re starting to wish you’d worn heels so you’d have something to do significant damage with as you hit what feels like the lower part of his thigh instead. Frustratingly, he stands his ground very well.
In an effort to calm yourself so you can think straight you slow your breathing and stop flailing your legs around. You only need a second to strengthen your resolve before you bite into the man’s hand hard enough to draw blood. You hear him curse in a low voice as he instinctively tears his hand away from your mouth. Unfortunately for you he seems to be a quick thinker too, or maybe he has a partner with him, because you don’t even get the chance to yell before you’re hit over the head with a blunt object. You can’t help but succumb to the panic as your vision starts to blur and you pass out.
~
The first thing you notice as you wake up is that your hands are bound behind your back. Your eyes are still covered, but you can hear the scraping of a chair behind you. Shit. The person watching you probably noticed you moving a little to test the strength of your bonds. You can hear them taking slow, methodical steps towards you. Not a word is spoken, but you have to do your best not to let out a surprised sound when fingers lightly trail over the exposed skin of your arm.
It feels like this person - a man judging by the light whiff of cologne you picked up on - is circling you, stalking you like you’re prey. You don’t like that at all. You’re a fucking BAU-agent, which means you’re the hunter, not him.
You know it’s probably not going to help your situation, but as you can feel him leaning forward as he stands behind you, you decide to express your dissatisfaction with the situation by violently jerking your head backwards, effectively headbudding the man.
It hurts a little, but all pain is forgotten as it’s replaced by the satisfaction of the pained, guttural noise he makes as he quickly backs away from you.
And then you hear him laugh.
It’s deep, oddly warm, and - most importantly - familiar.
You hesitate for a moment before uttering: “Spence?”
You hear his chuckle come closer until it’s right next to your ear. “Hey there, beautiful”, he says. You gasp as he suddenly brings his lips to the crook of your neck. It’s only when he starts to move away that you realise he’s released your hands and you’ve moved one up to bury it in his curls, lightly holding him in place. He complies with your silent command by staying close to you, moving up to place another kiss onto the skin covering your jugular. You can feel his lightly calloused hands creeping towards the blindfold. He takes it off as he moves away again to stand in front of you, a self-satisfied grin on his face as he looks you up and down.
“Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what the actual fuck?”, you ask him, and he lets out another laugh.
“Come on, you’re not actually mad, are you? I’m just trying to keep myself intriguing”, he explains as he offers you a hand. You take it and he helps you stand, gently pulling you closer to him before placing a tender hand on your face. As you look into his beautiful eyes you’re reminded once more that he’s only ever this gentle and loving to you. You’re the only person not to receive the standard Spencer Reid-treatment.
“Can’t risk boring my girl and driving her into the arms of some dullard like… hm, Aaron Hotchner, for example”, he whispers to you, wrapping his free hand around your waist and moving in for a proper kiss this time.
As you break the kiss you put one hand on his chest, creating a little distance without actually pushing him away.
“Darling, you are many things, but boring isn’t one of them”, you chuckle, the mischievous glint he has in his eyes being reflected in yours.
“And name calling? It’s not like you to resort to something as petty like that. You jealous?” As soon as you ask, you see you’ve struck a nerve. Oh, he can’t be serious. He drops the hand on your face and furrows his brow as you let out a chuckle, but his expression softens when you put your own hands on his face instead.
“There’s really no need for that. Hotch is my boss and my friend, and that’s it”. The way he seems to be gazing straight into your soul is incredibly mesmerising. “Nothing to worry about, Spence. I’m all yours”, you tell him, a soft smile on your face.
He rushes forward to close the distance once more, firmly wrapping his arms around you as you receive the type of all-encompassing, passionate kiss that you’re used to from him. You both let out a content sigh as you rest your foreheads together afterwards. After a moment he moves away until he just has one arm around your waist again and starts to lead you out of the building.
“Let’s go home before your side piece notices you’re missing and gets worried”, he quips, and you give him a playful slap on the chest.
You turn towards him as he helps you get into the back of the car, an eyebrow raised as you look at him.
“What?”
“Next time you’re worried about something, let’s just talk. No need to bother with a kidnapping”.
He lets out another laugh as he moves to sit next to you, motioning to the driver to get going.
“Alright, I promise”, he says, moving his hand to cross his heart, holding the other up like he’s pledging scout’s honour.
“Seriously Reid, if your goons broke any of my stuff, you’re compensating me in full”.
“Yes ma’am”, he chuckles before leaning over to press a kiss to the side of your head, surprised when you wince a little at the contact.
“Did they hurt you?”
“Why do you think I was unconscious? I thought you were supposed to be a genius?”
“And demonstrably, I am. I gave them chloroform and strict instructions on how to use it. You were never supposed to get hurt”, he says before slowly turning to look at one of his aforementioned goons. You swear you can hear him growl.
“Did I not tell you idiots that she was not to be hurt, regardless of circumstance?”, he asks the remarkably quiet man in the passenger seat. He didn’t even raise his voice, and yet they’re both pretty much shaking in their boots. You did not mess with the boss, and you absolutely did not mess with the boss’ partner.
“I’m sorry boss, it’s just that-”, the guy starts.
“Don’t apologise to me, apologise to her”, Spencer interrupted. The man turned to look at you, fear prominent in his eyes.
“I’m so sorry ma’am. It’s just that you caught me by surprise, and Sam had to think fast to help me and-”, the man stuttered out his apologies, desperately trying to avoid your lover’s wrath. He went quiet immediately when you raised your hand to stop him.
“It’s fine. Just make sure it never happens again. And please take care of your hand”, you add when you spot the irritated red colour that has overtaken the skin where you bit him.
Spencer’s eyes drop down to look at it as well, grinning at the sight. He gently coaxes you to lean into him before leaning in to nuzzle into your neck and whisper: “that’s my girl”.
You turn your head a little to look into his eyes again. His smile matches yours as you bring your hands to gently thread through his curls, feeling a shiver of delight run through him. You bring your face close to his again.
“That’s my genius”, you whisper before pulling him into a slow, passionate kiss once more.