#Penemily fanfiction

[darcyfangirlsfrequently]

if you are songoftardis on ao3 please know i love you

thank you for the long comment it was so lovely

[imagining-in-the-margins]

🏖️ Summer Sunshine Fics

Hey everyone! I want to start by saying thank you so much to everyone who participated - it was so much fun to write alongside you all, and I can’t wait to share everyone’s hard work. You are so appreciated, and the diversity only makes these events better.

Without further ado, here are all of the entries + recs for the Summer Sunshine Challenge! ☀️

☀️ SFW S.R./Reader ☀️

Sleepy Sunshine by @ssahopelessly: [Fem] After time in the sun, Reader wants a nap, but Spencer is more concerned about the signs of heat exhaustion.

Check You for Ticks by @andiebeaword: [Fem] Reader gets set up to share a tent (and a sleeping bag) with Spencer.

Embarrassed by @babymetaldoll: [Fem] The annual FBI beach trip could be the perfect place to make things even more awkward between Spencer and Reader.

Little Miss Reid, Entrepreneur by @/babymetaldoll: [Fem] Spencer and Reader help their daughter with her lemonade stand. So does the BAU.

Heat Stroke by @0and0its0doctor0: [Fem] Reader is self-conscious about the scars on her arms so she wear long sleeves in the heat.

Beach by @c-m-stuff: [Fem] Reader and Spencer are married. They have a beautiful daughter, and they all are going on vacation.

Pyrotechnics by me: [GN] Reader has a hard time on Fourth of July, and Spencer helps them fall in love with fireworks again.

Summer Nights by @foxy-eva: [GN] Summer may come to an end but the kisses Spencer shares with you will not.

Check below for more Spencer Reid fics, as well as Hotchgan, Penemily, Temily, and several Gen fics!

☀️ NSFW S.R./Reader ☀️

Sunscreen & Statistics by me: [Fem] Reader asks for Spencer’s help putting on sunscreen (and rinsing off). 

Lost Time by me: [Fem] Reader and Spencer spend mandatory leave on the vacation Spencer never had.

Nude Beach by @foxy-eva: [Fem] Reader finally convinces Spencer to go to the beach with her. Turns out it's a nude beach. 

Summer in the City by @/foxy-eva: [Fem] Having a nearly naked roommate made the heatwave much more tolerable for Spencer.

In This Diary by @fortheloveofwonderland: [Fem] Spencer was hoping to relax before his started his new job at the BAU, but best laid plans often go awry.

Summer Heat by @/fortheloveofwonderland: [Fem] The BAU must undertake a team building hike in the woods. Reader and Spencer get themselves lost and have to find a way to pass the time.

Summertime Service by @pinkiceee-prose: [Fem] Reader throws the BAU team a summer barbeque feast. Spencer is moved by her hard work and decides to show his gratitude.

Popsicle Love by @reidmotif: [Fem] Reader and Spencer are at a ridiculously hot precinct and getting on each other's nerves. Reader realizes she can get back at him using a certain sweet treat.

Spencer Reid Doesn't Know How to Swim by @reidsfav: No one knows that Spencer doesn't know how to swim and Reader is willing to help him keep it that way.

Just Hanging Out by @reiderwriter: [Fem] Reader finds herself at Rossi's mansion for a big summer barbeque. A hammock catches Reader's eye.

Everyone Looks Better in a Sundress by @/reiderwriter: [GN!AFAB] The AC at the BAU breaks during a heatwave, and Reader decides the FBI’s dress code is merely a suggestion.

☀️ Other Pairings ☀️

The Shape You Take by @masterwords: Hotchgan. Hotch is dwelling on an empty nest. Morgan has just the ticket: sea, sand, food and naps. While exploring a nude beach one night they find a little more than they bargained for.

July by @gaelic-symphony: Temily. The couple takes a trip to the beach.

August by @/gaelic-symphony: Temily. The couple rides out a summer storm.

Watermelon Sugar by @putting-the-bi-in-bau: [NSFW] Penemily. Emily has spent her vacation trying - and failing - to keep her eyes off Penelope while she walks around the house in nothing but her underwear.

Pool Parties and Secrets by @alicewonderao3: Spencer/Fem!OC. Swimming can be both fun and scary all at the same time.

☀️ Gen/Platonic ☀️

A Very Serious Fight by @alluring-andraya: Platonic. The team is very lighthearted, but one thing they do take seriously other than their jobs, is water gun/balloon fights.

Scars by @codename-mom: Hotch. Jessica offered Aaron to come to the beach with her and Jack, but there is something she doesn't know that stops him.

Baseball and Barbecue by @writing-till-i-run-out-of-time: Everyone went over to Rossi's for a family fun day of barbecue. Then something happens to Spencer.

Lemon-aide to the Rescue by @/PandorasDreaming [Ao3]: Henry, Michael, and Jack make their first lemonade stand but disaster strikes. They have some pretty important friends backing their first business investment!

Happy reading!

[blackbird-brewster]

Hey, I saw you're taking requests and I would just love to see a bit more of Penemily in the word!

Maybe Emily being completely head over heels but too scared to ruin their friendship until she sees Pen dating a woman and angsty/chaotic jealousy ensues ?

<3

Mending Emily/Penelope || Rated: General || WC: 750

A/N: Okay, truthfully, I had already been working on a similar idea as your prompt for a different ship, so this isn't quite what you requested, because I changed your idea a little bit to not repeat the plot of my other WIP. Still, I hope you like it! ------------------------------------------

Emily's tongue was firmly pinned between her teeth, furrow in her brow, as she concentrated on piecing Garcia's beloved unicorn mug back together. It's demise had been an accident, naturally, but with everyone under so much stress lately, Emily couldn't stop thinking about how upset Garcia was when the mug was broken.

If Emily had learned anything in all her years at the BAU, it was this, above all else, above the cases, above the profiling and killers, the single most important key to keeping the BAU team from falling apart completely was to make sure Penelope Garcia was happy.

Without Garcia's nonstop bright and cheery demeanor, this job would have swallowed Emily up years ago. No matter how awful their cases were, she always knew she could count on Garcia's smile at the end of the day and that alone was reason enough for her to be hunched over her desk, piecing together ceramic fragments in order to fix Penelope's mug.

Tara gently knocked on the open door, "Hey, Em, I'm getting ready to head out for the night. Saw your light still on and....," she leaned against the door frame with a perplexed smile as she fully registered the pieces on Emily's desk. "What are you doing?"

Emily didn't look up from her delicate operating procedure. "Oh, Garcia's mug broke."

"And?"

Emily glued the final piece in place and nodded triumphantly as she inspected her work. She glanced to Tara, "And I fixed it."

Tara hummed under her breath while shaking her head. "Mhmm, of course you did."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Tara replied. "Nothing at all."

Emily, now curious about Tara's implying tone, tilted her head with a suspicious look. "Seriously, Tara. What's up?"

Tara chuckled and came to sit on the edge of Emily's desk, so she could get a closer look at the newly fixed mug. "I didn't mean anything by it. You're a great Unit Chief, Prentiss, but you're an even better friend. I mean, it's the end of, yet another, extremely long, stressful day, and instead of going home, you're sitting here trying to glue this $5 mug back together, just because you know how much it means to Pen."

"Well, she was really upset about it and I just thought it would be a nice gesture."

"And is that all you thought?" Tara teased.

Emily rolled her eyes. "Yes, that's all, Tara."

"Well, it looks great, Em. She's going to be ecstatic," Tara made her way back to the door, "Goodnight. Don't stay too late, you need sleep just like the rest of us."

Emily waited until the glue dried, carefully inspecting every crack to make sure everything was sealed, then tested her repairs by filling the mug with water. When it didn't spring any leaks, she wiped it down and placed it on Garcia's desk before heading home for the evening.

The next day Garcia burst through Emily's office door, the bright colours of her outfit seemed dull compared to the smile on her face. "Was this you?! You fixed my mug!? But, I threw it away!"

Emily tried to act casual, even though internally she was vibrating with happiness at Garcia's reaction. "Yeah, I uh, saw it in the trash and figured I could probably put it back together."

Penelope closed the distance from the door to Emily's desk in three quick skips. She pulled Emily out of her chair and pulled her into a hug, nearly crushing her from gratitude.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Emily melted into the embrace, smiling as her chin rested on Garcia's shoulder for a moment. It was embarrassing how her stomach filled with butterflies at nothing more than a few seconds of physical connection with Garcia.

Garcia's phone interrupted the special moment and she huffed, as she checked her messages. "Ah, no rest for the magnificent oracle of Quantico. I better get back to my office."

She gave Emily one more quick hug. She grinned back on her way out the door, newly mended unicorn mug in hand. "I love you, Emily Prentiss!"

Alone again, Emily plopped back into her chair with a heavy sigh. She knew Garcia's sentiment wasn't anything more than loving her good friend, but it was still nice to hear it. There was no way she'd ever confess her true feelings to Penelope, so in lieu of that, Emily simply muttered a quiet reply to her empty office: "I love you too."

[hopelesspedantic01]

The Plus One

This is a fanfiction I've been working on for a while, inspired by a post by @justalesbianwithsomegayshit. It's a political au where Emily starts bringing Penelope as her plus one to dinner parties to prove a point to political bigots and adorableness ensues. I hope y'all like it!

[spencerspecifics]

Hi! I just read your pride fanfiction and it's so cool! I was wondering if you maybe would like to write Moreid Penemily fanfic where Morgan and Prentiss go to the florist to buy flowers for their significant ones, but they obivously had no idea about flowers while Penelope and Spencer care about it a lot.

Have a great day!

This is the sweetest ask I’ve ever received omg of course you can get that!! I love getting requests thank you so much for asking❤️

Sort of TW /// there's flashbacks to a child abduction case the team was working, also Garcia is mad at Prentiss (and Morgan is just worried about picking the wrong flowers lol)

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Flowers

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Morgan and Prentiss were similar, almost too similar- they were both leaders within the team, strong willed, and not scared of saying what they thought.

They were driving forces in the team, they did their jobs and they did them damn well. They were both confident in their jobs, but sadly, that’s where both of their confident aspects ended.

When it came to relationships, Emily and Derek were also too similar- they were nervous disasters. They didn’t know how to act, what to do or say- they practically had to dare each other to get themselves to ask out their respective crushes. They couldn’t bring themselves to do it without the other pushing them along, urging them to do it.

So, it should have been no shock when Derek pulled open the door to the small flower shop Spencer raved about so much- and saw Prentiss standing awkwardly to the side, scanning the example flowers splayed out on the small table next to her like she actually understood anything about floristry.

Morgan couldn’t help but shake his head; of course, Spencer was always telling Garcia about his favorite things- she probably fell in love with this flower shop, too.

“Well, well, look who we have here.” Derek joked as he walked towards Prentiss, she barely looked up at him, instead still scanning the flowers as she spoke; “I don’t wanna hear it. This is Penelope’s new favorite place, and I’m doing my girlfriend duties.”

“Funny, I’m doing the same thing myself.” Derek replied, “You’re doing girlfriend duties?” Prentiss shot back, Derek ignored her, instead turning back around, towards the front of the shop to look at the flowers they had displayed up front.

He was still standing next to her, however, so he spoke up again; “What’re you getting Garcia flowers for?” “I can’t just get her flowers?” Prentiss sniped, clearly something was putting her on edge, and now Derek had to know what.

“Pump the brakes, Em.” He told her, she looked down towards her feet, then looking at the small table, before looking back towards him.

“She’s mad at me.” Was all Emily said, before turning her back towards him, looking at the displays hanging nearby on the wall. Derek decided to leave her at that, at least for now. He knew why Garcia was mad.

~

“How long are you going to stay here for?” Reid asked Garcia curiously, sat next to her in her den of computers and fun little figurines surrounding her. Spencer had ended up burning the midnight oil yet again, and decided it was better to spend that time with Garcia, rather than be alone in the dark emptiness of the bullpen.

Penelope had finished her work hours ago, but was refusing to go back home- back to her shared apartment with Emily, because she was mad, she was fuming, she was frustrated, and she was close to being heart broken, even if that was dramatic to say; that’s how she felt.

“I don’t know.” Garcia said simply, clicking on another youtube video of kittens being adorable. She needed to focus on something simple right now, something sweet, something that didn’t make her feel like she was going to cry and hyperventilate at the same time.

Spencer stayed quiet, sitting in the desk chair next to her as he flipped through the manilla file folders in his lap. Boring case work, it could be done by anyone on the team- and it didn’t need to be done that exact day, it wasn’t due to be turned into Hotch for a while. So Spencer left it on his lap, shutting the folder as quick as he had opened.

“You know, everyone does stuff like what Emily did-“ he started up again, trying his best to reason with Penelope about the events that had transpired that day, but she wasn’t going to hear it, she was deciding to tune him out; turning the volume up on the youtube video, watching kittens chase fake mice and play with feathers on strings. It was cute, it was sweet, it wasn’t upsetting.

Reid took that as his cue to be quiet, at least for now.

~

Derek had left Prentiss to her own devices within the small flower shop, going to the other side of the store to give her some distance, and to peruse the many kinds of flowers and small knick knacks they had for sale.

It made sense why Spencer loved this shop, why he raved about it; firstly, it was small, it was quiet, it was simple. It wasn’t flashy in decor, rather letting the flowers for sale be the decorations to fill up the store. Not to mention the soft classical radio station that was playing through the small speakers by the cashiers desk- which also doubled as a bouquet making table.

It was small, it was a small slice of art that Derek could picture Spencer walking down, looking at the beautiful flowers lining the shop on small tables and hanging on the walls. Spencer loved beautiful things, and he was the most beautiful person Morgan knew.

Which is why Derek was struggling on what to get Reid, he wanted to get his boyfriend something as beautiful as him, something he would love. Morgan knew realistically that Spencer would be happy with almost any kind of gift, but Morgan wasn’t listening to his painfully boring realistic side. He was listening to his romantic side, the side that wanted to buy Reid the Smithsonian Museum, the side of himself that wanted to build his boyfriend a greenhouse; so they could finally start on that home garden Spencer wanted so badly.

Derek wanted to do something to make Spencer happy, because the case they had dealt with today ended badly- worse than normal. It had taken a toll on everyone, Garcia, Prentiss, Reid, himself, Hotch, and even J.J. and Rossi.

It was rare a case hurt them as much as this one had, but every once and a while, there needs to be a fresh cut alongside the healing and fading scars. Something to bring them back to the painful reality of life.

~

It was a child abduction case, those always hit the team the worst. Whether there was a personal connection to the team members or not, it was hard when an innocent soul gets taken away.

Thankfully, the team was able to recover the missing child, a seven year old girl named Savannah Rogers. The team was quick to figure out this was the abductors first, so there were errors, there were mistakes. There were holes in the plotline the team could poke through and reach into, to find the necessary answers.

It came at a price, though, it always did.

~

"She likes colorful things." Derek spoke under his breath as he passed by Prentiss, she didn't turn around (though she clearly heard him as her eyes darted his way for a moment), still staring at the racks of freshly made bouquets and wreaths that had yet to be bought. Derek didn't say anymore past that, instead just standing next to her, staring at the same floral arrangements.

He needed something as pretty as his boy, would Reid like roses? Or would he think that's too cliché? Derek wasn't totally sure. It had to be just right for Spencer. Maybe a mix of roses with something leafy would be best.

"You know what you're getting Reid?" Emily asked him, her voice quieter than normal. It was clear the stress of the situation was getting to her, it hurt Derek's heart to see her like that.

He shook his head simply, "Nah, I'm not sure. What about you?" Emily drew a breath in, "I don't think any amount of flowers will make her forgive me." She said, a shaky laugh coming out after, as if the humor was to make the situation normal. But none of this was normal.

"Em, you did what you had to do. She needed our help. Garcia knows that, she's just upset because she was worried sick."

Emily just nodded, a signal that meant ‘I hope you’re right’. Derek knew he was, it was just going to take Penelope a second to breathe, to calm down; to understand why Prentiss put herself in harms way. To understand why Prentiss almost got shot just a few hours earlier.

~

The specifics of a child abduction case always boil down into two ways; either the child is taken from a place of safety (school, home, etc.), or is taken while in transportation from one place to the next (walking home from school, taking the bus).

For the case of Savannah Rogers, it was the former. She was playing in her front yard with her barbies when she was seemingly snatched.

Her mother was inside on a phone call, she had just stepped away from watching Savannah for a minute to answer the phone- and when she looked back, her daughter was nowhere to be seen.

The team figured out quickly who could’ve done it, the school nurse from Savannah’s elementary school- the nurse had recently been fired due to allegations of verbal abuse from the students themselves. The fact the feds weren’t involved sooner was the most surprising thing, the nurse was a walking poster boy for someone who shouldn’t be working in a school. But somehow, he had the job for some time.

The nurses name was Daniel Blake, he was an unsub with narcissistic personality disorder- he was raised off grid by his mother who had a narcissistic personality as well, and a belief that society was doomed from the start. So, he was raised with the belief life was better away from everyone- he was raised in a cabin, then escaped away for his college career.

He was seemingly normal, until his mother died a few weeks earlier. It was common to see an unsub stable, normal- not exhibiting any terrible ideology. But then, there’s always that trigger- something that shoves them over that edge they’ve been precariously balancing on for far too long.

His mothers death reminded him of the way he was raised, he was convinced he needed to take a child and raise them the same. Savannah Rogers just happened to be the closest to where he was.

~

Spencer and Garcia were sat in silence yet again, Reid had no reason to leave and Garcia simply refused to. She didn’t want to see Emily.

“I almost lost her, Spencer.” Was all Garcia mustered up to say, before looking down from her computer monitor- instead just staring directly at her keyboard.

Spencer didn’t react right away, he wasn’t sure what to say. He took a deep breath in before speaking, “Morgan and I argue about this too.”

Garcia looked up from her keyboard to shoot Reid a sideways glance, her way of saying ‘go on’. So, he did.

“We don’t argue about you and Emily,” he stuttered over that obvious clarification, “but we argue when the other shoves themselves in the way of danger. Him and I have almost died too many times, every time we go out into the field I do have a part of myself that asks; ‘what if this is the last time I’ll see him?’. And it scares me.” Spencer paused, swallowing some of his rambling down, not all of what he was feeling and sharing was helpful. He was just vocalizing his fear.

He continued on after a second, “I don’t want to lose him- he’s my everything you know, he’s-“ Spencer’s voice started to crack in the way that only cracks when you’re close to expelling your emotions way too publicly. He took a breath again, deciding to redirect where his story was going.

“But I also know that, he’ll always be okay. I trust him to do his job, and that’s the difference between being boyfriends and co-workers. I have to trust my co-worker, Derek, to do his job right. And I have to trust my boyfriend, Derek, to come home every night like he promised he would. And he trusts me to do the same.”

Reid stopped talking after that, going back down to staring at the manilla file folders on his lap.

~

The team had cornered Daniel Blake in a warehouse set to be demolished towards the outskirts of town, Savannah was with him, locked in a giant crate meant for a large dog. His whole plan wasn’t well thought out, was he going to raise this little girl in a warehouse? It didn’t matter in the end.

The team got to him, like they always did with unsubs. The one thing the team wasn’t aware of was that he had a pistol in his inner jacket pocket- and while Prentiss moved towards the dog crate to get Savannah out, Daniel made a move.

He grabbed out his pistol and was trying to aim at the dog crate that Savannah was in- if he couldn’t have her, he didn’t want anyone to. The only thing stopping Savannah Rogers from being dead right then and there was the fact J.J. had shouted out at Emily to cover the crate, which she did instinctively.

The bullet missed the crate, but it hit Prentiss in the bullet proof vest, right in between her shoulder blades. If she wasn’t wearing the vest, she’d be dead.

After that, Derek tackled him to the ground and made sure he had no other weapons. Savannah was then returned to her family, and the team made their way back to the police station. Case closed, almost.

Penelope was in the teams ear, monitoring the whole ordeal when she heard J.J. yell at Emily to cover, and the gunfire going off. Then she couldn’t hear anything, her heartbeat was drowning out any words that were being said. She was petrified.

~

EMTs checked out Savannah and Prentiss, Savannah was in shock and had a few minor injuries, but nothing too stressful. Thankfully the same could also be said for Emily, she felt the bullet push through the fabric of the vest when she was shot, the bullet barely stopped before slowly pushing up against the more inner layers of the vest.

It was a sharp pain, it would leave a bruise, it knocked the wind out of her for a second. But she was alive, she was okay.

That’s what Morgan told Garcia through the earpiece as soon as he got Daniel Blake in the back of a cop car. He just kept saying it, “Garcia, she’s okay. EMTs are looking at her now, she’s okay.”

Whether Penelope fully heard him by that point, he wasn’t sure.

~

“It’s just hard. I feel like I’m the odd one out, I’m not at the scene with you guys. I’m a million miles away.” Garcia spoke through a shaky breath to Spencer.

“I can’t see what happens, unless you strap a camera to your face and send me live feed. I’m scared every time you guys go out there, that something bad is gonna happen. And I’ll be the only one left.” She said, her voice hushed and shaky still.

Spencer stayed quiet for a moment, the only thing heard in the office was the kitten videos still playing on Garcia’s monitor, and the distant clicking of the clock on the wall.

“You’re never going to be alone. I know our line of work is a lot, and it is. But we can handle it. We’re as prepared as can be, and the truth is we could get hurt just the same walking down the road. We could get hit by a tornado, or a drive by-“ Reid kept going on, Garcia looked down at her keyboard before looking at Reid.

“Bad things can happen to us anywhere.” Spencer stated simply, watching Garcia’s tired, bloodshot, and teary eyes staring at him. “But we’re never alone out there. We protect each other. And you- you protect us!” Spencer spoke with a tone of energy. He had a strong point coming and he knew it, but Garcia didn’t. She scoffed, blinked, and didn’t say anything more. A cue that Spencer can continue.

“You protect us just as much as we protect each other, you get us the information we need, you contact everyone we can possibly need for a case. We’re nothing without you. It doesn’t matter how far away you are, you have our backs, too.”

Penelope sniffled, a small smile tugging on her lips.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice cracking. Spencer nodded, he could tell she was tired, as was he.

~

The shop was closing soon, Prentiss knew it, Morgan knew it, and the old woman sat up behind the counter, reading a thick old dusty book knew it too.

“Are you two stuck on what to get?” The old woman asked, looking over the top of her book to give Morgan and Prentiss a glance.

“Just a bit,” Derek admitted suavely to her, he knew Emily wasn’t really in the mood to talk so he took lead on this conversation. “I’m getting a gift for my boyfriend.” boyfriend, boyfriend, Spencer was his boyfriend. No matter how many times Derek got to call him his, he still never got over it. He never got over the excitement, the happiness, the rush of ‘oh my god, I get to date him?’. It was an amazing feeling every time.

The old woman nodded, “Do you know what kind of flowers he likes?” She asked, setting her thick book down on the table in front of her. Derek thought back for a moment, every time he’s seen Spencer bring flowers home from the shop they weren’t big bouquets. There was a lot of greenery, a lot of whites and yellows, natural earthy tones. Nothing flashy or bright.

“He always has a lot of green in the bouquets he gets,” the woman nodded as she listened, hopping off of her stool and going around the cashier counter to Morgan to show him the collection of flowers she thought would match that.

“I’m also thinking roses, though. Is that cliche?” He asked her, she smiled happily, “Not at all, dear. Roses symbolize love. Are you thinking the standard red, or would you like to look at our other colors?”

Derek nodded yes, excitedly, he felt like he was finally figuring out what to get his pretty boy, and it was going to be just as pretty as him. The woman whisked off to the back room to get the freshest roses they had, assuring him and Emily that she’d be right back.

Emily had stayed silent through the entire interaction, staring at the wreaths lining the wall. Derek noticed, it was his job to notice.

“Prentiss, I know you’re dealing with a lot. But one thing at a time, alright? Slow your mind down, all you can do right now is get her flowers.” Emily nodded, she understood that. She knew that was true, she was just nervous and tired and frustrated. She wanted to do the right thing, and she had. It just came at a price.

“I know,” she nodded again, “I know.” “So, what flowers are you thinking for Penelope?” Derek asked her, trying to move her forward.

“I might have to follow your lead and see about the roses.” Emily replied, a small (not entirely truthful) smile forming on her face. She decided to follow Morgan’s lead. Flowers first, everything else later.

~

Spencer and Garcia left the bureau building together, “You want a ride home?” Spencer asked her as he dug his car keys out of his messenger bag, Penelope nodded. “I’d like that.”

~

So, they drove in amicable silence, the radio in Reid’s car was switched to a pop station for Garcia, and she appreciated that. She hummed lowly to the songs playing through. But past that, no words were said.

Spencer rolled his vehicle to a stop outside of Garcia and Emily’s shared apartment, “Do you want me to walk you up?” He asked her, already reaching to undo his seatbelt. Penelope shook her head, causing Reid to stop.

“No, thank you though. What you said meant a lot. I love ya, Spencer.” She said, reaching forward over the center console to embrace him in a hug, Spencer smiled and did the same, hugging her back tightly.

“Of course. It’s gonna be okay. You just have to talk to her.” Spencer told her, they were still in a tight embrace, and Garcia nodded. “I know. I won’t be scared.” She mumbled, pulling back from the hug after a moment.

Spencer smiled, “That’s good, you shouldn’t be. You love her, that’s all that matters.” Penelope smiled softly back, thinking back to Prentiss, how much she loved her- how much she loved being with her, kissing her, talking to her. Just being with her. She loved it. She knew Spencer was right.

All Garcia did was say a final ‘thank you’ before unbuckling, grabbing her purse and exiting the car, shutting the passenger door behind her. Reid waited until she disappeared into her apartment building to drive away, and then he started his journey home.

~

Spencer hadn’t thought much of the day, other than the obligatory obvious that the child abduction case had put everyone on edge- Garcia and Prentiss especially, and for good reason.

Spencer was a bit foggy in his mind as he pulled into the drive way of Derek and his’ home. The fog in his mind was for a few factors, the post stress feeling of finishing a high stakes case, and also that it was just late and he was so, utterly exhausted. He let out a small yawn as he put the car in park, he noted that Derek’s car was already parked in his usual spot- hopefully his boyfriend hadn’t been waiting up for him, he’d feel terrible depriving him of his sleep. He knew Morgan was just as tired as him.

Spencer exited his car, locking it quickly and walking up the front stoop, fumbling with his keys to get the right one to unlock the front door. He got the right key after a moment, slid it into the lock, and opened the door. He pushed it open, shutting it quickly behind him. He tried to shut the door as quietly as he could, but the hinges squeaked at a volume a bit too loud for Reid’s taste. Spencer cringed at the noise, hoping it wouldn’t wake Derek up.

The hallway lights were on in their home, not an uncommon occurrence, as their work schedules were always so bizarre that they usually ended up working late nights; at home or in a hotel somewhere across the nation.

Spencer made his way inside, setting his messenger bag down on the kitchen table, and stood in a moment of silence. God, today was a lot. And Penelope being so worried about Emily, it reminded him of his anxieties, his fears, his worries about himself and Derek. He knew they couldn’t catch every unsub always. He knew some unsubs would shoot their way out of dealing with cops. He knew people got hurt in their line of work.

He was terrified that it would catch up to him and his boyfriend one day. And that the happiness and love and hope they shared would be smashed. Spencer let out a deep sigh, he couldn’t keep thinking about this all and run his mind in circles. Spencer walked over to the cupboard where their glasses were stored, opening it and grabbing a glass, then going to the tap and filling it with water.

It was then that he heard footsteps, coming from down the hall to the kitchen.

“Pretty boy?” Derek’s voice called out, before he turned into the kitchen. He was still in his work clothes, and smiling excitedly as he had his hands behind his back, as if he was hiding something.

Spencer smiled softly at him, taking a sip of his water, “Hey,” he took note of Derek’s preppy demeanor this late in the evening, he immediately knew his boyfriend had been up to something. “What’s going on?” He asked curiously.

“Close your eyes.” Derek said, his grin somehow splitting even wider as he spoke. Seeing his boyfriend somehow so full of joy, this late in the day, after all the bad they had seen; it made Spencer smile. So Spencer nodded, setting his glass down next to him on the counter, putting his hands over his eyes.

Reid heard his boyfriend stepping closer, and some kind of rustling he couldn’t correctly identify.

“Open your eyes, baby.” Derek said, Reid put his hands down, blinking his eyes open to see what was in front of him.

It was Derek holding a bouquet out in front of him, it had daisy’s, white and yellow roses, a bit of baby’s breath, as well as lots of greenery and leaves.

“Derek, is- is this for me?” Reid asked, he already knew the answer as Derek wordlessly handed him the bouquet, and Spencer started examining it further.

“I wanted to get you something special,” Derek started explaining bashfully, “you mentioned that flower shop around the corner, so I checked it out and I got some help from the old lady behind the counter. I wasn’t sure what to get you, do you like it?”

Spencer couldn’t stop smiling, he mentioned that flower shop in passing to his boyfriend once or twice, and Morgan remembered. And it was a perfect bouquet, some people would’ve disliked the amount of leaves or usage of daisy’s or whatever the hell else- but to Spencer, it was perfect. It was beautiful.

“I-“ Reid’s voice cracked in a way he hadn’t meant it to. He was feeling overwhelmed, overemotional. “I love it. I love you.” He said, he felt tears prickling at the corners of his eyes as he looked up to meet Derek’s gaze.

“Baby, are you alright?” Morgan asked him carefully, stepping forward. Reid nodded, “I was just with Garcia- she was so nervous about Emily. It just got me thinking, about us and our work.” Derek nodded wordlessly, taking the bouquet from Spencer and setting it down on the counter, before pulling his boyfriend into a soft embrace. Spencer melted into the feeling.

“It’s never going to be easy. But it’s worth it to me, I love you and our work, baby. I love you so much.” Morgan said, emphasizing his words by giving Reid a small squeeze. Spencer smiled softly, pulling back to make eye contact with Morgan again before leaning forward, giving him a small kiss on the lips.

Spencer stepped back out of the hug, picking the bouquet off the counter. He couldn’t stop staring at it.

“This is beautiful.” Spencer said absentmindedly as he looked around for a vase to put the flowers into.

“Not as beautiful as you,” Morgan complimented, Spencer felt the heat rush to his cheeks as he smiled. He located a vase in a nearby cupboard, moving back over to the sink to fill it up with some water.

“I was sat in that flower shop for, like, an hour. Baby I kept running around in circles.” Derek continued on, “I knew you’d like anything I got you, but-“ he smiled awkwardly. Spencer had this way of getting Derek stupidly romantic, he just wanted to do everything he could to make Reid as happy as possible. He couldn’t get over how damn lucky he was to have this genius in his life.

Spencer eyed him as he unwrapped the flowers from the wrapping, setting them up in the vase. Derek continued; “I wanted to get something as pretty and as perfect as you, Spencer.”

Spencer melted at that, he knew Morgan was usually so confident in his choices. The thought of his boyfriend confusedly wandering around the flower shop, looking for just the right flowers for him, to express his love; it made Spencer feel blessed.

“Just knowing you went out of your way to do this, it’s…” Spencer smiled softly, looking back and forth between the bouquet and his incredible partner.

“It’s amazing.”

~

Penelope had gotten up to her apartment, entering quickly and locking the door behind her. A majority of the lights in the apartment were still off, indicating that Prentiss was still out, wherever she was.

Garcia went through the apartment, turning on their lamps and lighting a few candles to help her de-stress from the days events. She decided to clear her mind by taking a shower, heading into the shared bedroom and grabbing clothes out of her dresser, before heading down the hall to the bathroom.

She shut the door softly, turning on the shower and undressing slowly as she waited for it to heat up.

After she showered, she was going to wait for Emily to get home so they could talk.

~

Prentiss entered their apartment not long after Penelope had, Emily had stopped from the flower shop to get a box of chocolates for her girlfriend before finally heading home. Prentiss heard the water running in the bathroom, and figured Garcia was in there showering.

She decided to wait in their bedroom, chocolates and flowers sitting in her lap as she waited, sitting on the edge of the bed eagerly. She felt terrible, she hadn’t meant to worry her girlfriend so much, but she knew she hadn’t had the foresight to think of Penelope when she made her choice to stand in between the little girl and the bullet.

It was noble, sure. But it was incredibly stupid.

~

Garcia finished showering quickly, she stepped out of the shower and changed into the clothes she had brought with her into the bathroom.

It was a matching pajama set, that ironically enough was a gift from Emily. It was covered in small hearts with arrows through them. It was a Valentine’s Day surprise, and the other part of the surprise was that Prentiss had an identical set. Emily usually wasn’t one for showy displays of affection, she was a private and simple person. She would joke and tease to show her love, but she knew Garcia wasn’t like that and enjoyed honest, sentimental gifts.

Penelope smiled at the pajamas, thinking back to the gift and how much it meant to her- how much it still means to her.

Penelope stepped out of the bathroom, towel still wrapped around her hair to help it dry as she made her way back to the bedroom.

~

The bedroom door opened, Prentiss watched as Garcia entered- but Garcia didn’t see Emily right away, instead making her way to the small closet and putting the clothes she was wearing into her hamper.

Garcia then turned around, and that’s when she saw Emily, and it was a surprise, as Garcia almost practically jumped.

“You- Oh! Emily! God.” she sighed, clearly taken off guard.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you, I,” Emily started, taking the chocolates and flowers out of her lap and setting them down on the bed next to her as she got up to be closer to Garcia.

“I’m sorry love, I didn’t mean to scare you.” She repeated, Garcia huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, you did.” She said with a small pout on her face.

“Can we- can we talk?” Emily asked carefully. Last she had seen Garcia, she was mad, couldn’t even look at her. She didn’t want to end up sleeping on the couch tonight, she wanted to work this out. To her surprise, Penelope nodded slowly.

“I’m sorry, Pen..” Garcia said nothing as she stood and listened to Emily, Prentiss gestured for her to take a seat on the bed next to her. Garcia obliged and sat down.

“I know it’s scary when we go into the field, because anything can happen. And I hate myself for not thinking ahead and my actions hurting you, that’s the last thing I want to do. You matter so, so much to me.”

Silence sat over them both for a moment. Emily wanted to reach forward and hold Penelope’s hand, but she didn’t want to push it. Garcia sniffed, the sound breaking through the silence.

“I know you didn’t intend to hurt me, Em. I know a little girl’s life was on the line. I just- it is scary, it just is!” She said, exasperatedly. Not sure what else to say or how else to phrase her thoughts.

Emily decided to push it, reaching forward to hold her girlfriends hand between her own. “This job is hard. It’s bad at times. But it’s where I met you, and it’s where we fell in love. It’s the one job we know we’re good at.” Prentiss spoke softly.

Garcia nodded as she look down, putting her other hand on top of Emily’s. She smiled softly. “I’m sorry. I’m not mad, I get scared is all… you know with my family, they just were gone one day and-“

Garcia’s voice cracked a little, the emotions were still incredibly raw. “I just don’t want to lose you.” Emily nodded. She didn’t want to lose her either.

“I will always come back to you, in this life- in the next. I will fight anyone who stands between us, I love you, and I hope you know that. I would do anything to see you and be with you.” Prentiss said as she squeezed Penelope’s hands tightly. Garcia knew she wasn’t messing around with what she said. Emily was fiercely loyal, she stood by every word she ever spoke.

Penelope smiled, “You saved a little girl’s life today,” she looked up to meet Emily’s gaze.

“I’m really proud of you.”

~

The chocolates and flowers quickly became an afterthought for Emily, as her and Garcia relieved each other of their anxieties and reminded the other how much they loved each other. It was only when Penelope stood up from the bed to take the towel off of her hair that she saw them on the other side of the bed.

“Oh- are those, are those for me?” Emily looked back, remembering the gifts and grabbing them.

“Yes! They are! I- I know that flower shop you like so much… I had some help getting these, I wasn’t sure what you’d like.” Prentiss explained, offering the flowers to Garcia first so she could look them over.

Penelope smiled excitedly as she took them from her, looking them over, there were white and red roses, baby’s breath, and some blue bells. It was gorgeous.

“Do you… like it?” Emily asked apprehensively as she stood up. She knew it was dumb, but her and Morgan really were out of their elements in that flower shop. And as much as the kind older woman helping them reassured them that their partners would love it, she was scared. This gift had to be perfect for Penelope. And she knew Derek shared a similar thought for Spencer.

Penelope couldn’t stop her beaming smile, “Love, they’re perfect.” She set them down on the dresser next to her and leaned in to give Emily a sweet kiss on the lips. Emily smiled, grateful that she was able to help mend this wound between her and Garcia. She couldn’t survive if she didn’t have her in her life, Penelope was everything.

Prentiss wrapped her arms around Garcia, holding her in a loose hug for a while. Penelope didn’t mind as she rested her head on Emily’s shoulder, sighing contently.

“Thank you.”

———————————————————————

[5raysofsunshine]

In the Kitchen with Penelope - Emily Prentiss x Penelope Garcia

Hi friends! Who wants to read about Emily and Penelope baking together (and flirting and being a tad bit chaotic)?! This takes place around the beginning of Emily being there, like mid-late s2. They be developing crushes on each other!

Written for @sweetprentiss 's birthday bingo: Cooking or Baking Together

Rating: G

Word count: 2065

Tagging @ssaagentemilyprentiss @dalexandriag16 @its-soph-xx @143bc (if you want to be tagged in future fics lmk!)

Enjoy! 💖

---

“Emily.” Penelope says, staring at the so-called ingredients Emily had said she bought for the cake they were going to make.

“Yeah?” Emily asks, already knowing that Penelope is disappointed with what she sees.

Penelope gestures towards the kitchen island counter, “That is a cake in a box.”

“Yup!” Emily said confidently. Sitting on top of Emily’s kitchen island is a small blue rectangular box with a stylized photo of a perfectly baked yellow cake with chocolate frosting and a cartoon mascot smiling widely. The ingredients and instructions for the premade cake mix are printed on the back of the box in simple wording with small illustrations to show the steps visually.

Penelope rolls her eyes, “You told me you had cake ingredients!”

“I do! All the dry ingredients are already mixed together and then it calls for water, eggs, and vegetable oil! Which I have!” Emily argues back.

Penelope shakes her head back and forth, “No, no, no! Emily, I came over here because you said you wanted my help making a cake, and THIS is what you need help with? Are you telling me you can’t follow simple back-of-the-box instructions?”

“I don’t want to screw it up! You’ll help me not screw it up!” Emily pleads.

Sure, Emily can bake the cake pretty easily, if she pays attention to measurements and doesn’t forget that she already added something, and if she doesn’t forget to set a timer for the oven. This is why Emily invited Penelope over. The blonde had offered to help Emily if she ever wanted to bake something, since Penelope often bakes sweet treats for the team on holidays and when she hosts little get togethers at her apartment. And to be perfectly honest, Emily would use any excuse she could to spend some quality time with her new friend.

“Emily, how the hell can you-” Penelope begins to ask, but Emily interrupts.

“You must think very highly of me, because I can assure you that I will absolutely mess this up somehow if I tried making this by myself.” It’s true, she could and most likely would if Penelope wasn’t here.

Penelope sighs, “I actually do think very highly of you, Emily. Always have... but now I’m starting to think I shouldn’t.”

“Oh come on, PG!” Emily exclaims. “I’ve always struggled with baking. And cooking, for that matter. I am useless in the kitchen, and it’s literally so... embarrassing.”

“Well... don’t worry, my sweet. A badass intelligent sexy woman like yourself doesn't need to be skilled in the kitchen as long as you’re skilled in... other areas.”

“Ha, tell that to my exes.”

“Oh screw them, they probably didn’t deserve you anyway.”

“Aw, thanks.”

Penelope sighs deeply, grabbing the box of cake mix and putting it away in one of Emily’s cabinets. “Okay, screw this cake mix. Emily Prentiss, I’m going to teach you how to make a cake from scratch!”

“Really?” Emily asks, already doubtful about how well this will go.

“Yes!” Penelope says confidently, “As long as you have all of the ingredients we’ll need.”

“Like what?”

“Well, what goes into a cake?” Penelope asks, quizzing Emily to see if she at least knows the basic ingredients.

Emily taps her chin as she hums in thought. “Hmm... well we still need water, vegetable oil, and eggs, right?” Penelope nods, gesturing for Emily to continue. “Pretty sure we’re gonna need flour, sugar, butter, and... frosting? I bought lots of frosting!”

Admiring how cute the brunette is when she gets excited about the fact that she has plenty of frosting, Penelope smiles and her bottom lip pouts just a little. “Okay, those are very basic cake ingredients. But we’ll also need baking powder, baking soda, some salt, and vanilla extract. Do you have those things?”

Emily nods, “Um, I think so.”

Penelope grins and claps her hands together, “I’m going to search your kitchen.”

---

“So, how come you struggle with baking?” Penelope asks as she cracks a couple eggs and dumps the insides into a large mixing bowl.

Emily shrugs, plugging in an electric hand mixer in preparation to mix the cake ingredients together. “I never really learned how. You know, usually a kid is taught how to cook or bake by their mom or their grandma. But, I never had that opportunity.”

Penelope frowns. “Why is that?” She suspects it’s because of how Emily grew up. Living in foreign countries and not being well connected with family. But she still asks, because she genuinely wants to learn more about her new friend, despite knowing the basics of Emily’s life through the personal research she did when the brunette agent first arrived at the BAU.

Two beater attachments click into place before Emily responds, “See, my mother wasn’t much of a kitchen person, and I must admit I was pretty spoiled with private chefs while growing up. Even when I was living on my own in my university days, I could barely make a decent meal for myself. I mostly lived on food that was served at the restaurant I worked at.” Penelope nods, remembering that Emily had once mentioned she was a waitress when she was going to college. Whether that was undergrad or grad school, she’s not sure. Emily continues, “I try to follow recipes, but I somehow always forget something. Whether it’s an ingredient or I leave it in the oven for too long, or I didn’t use the right amount of flour-”

Penelope’s palm lands on top of Emily’s hand that is resting on the counter. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that now, my sweet. Not while I’m here.”

Emily smiles at Penelope’s words and removes her hand, only to place it on top of Penelope’s in return. “Thanks.” She says, gazing into Penelope’s brown eyes with her own. “I really appreciate it.”

Penelope grins and removes her hand from underneath Emily’s and places it back on top, patting the back of the brunette’s hand a few times. “I’m happy to be of service. Now, hand over the mixer so we can put this batter in the pans.”

“No way, I wanna mix it!” Emily says with a grin, holding up the hand mixer like a gun and turning it on for a brief second before turning it off again.

“Woah,” Penelope says giggling before stepping back. “Be careful where you point that thing! Put it in the bowl, missy! In. The. Bowl.”

---

“I swear to god Emily if you keep eating the batter there won’t be enough to make the damn cake!” Penelope complains, softly whacking Emily’s hand to stop her from reaching in the mixing bowl for another taste. As soon as Penelope’s hand pulls away, Emily quickly dips her finger into the batter and brings it to her mouth. Penelope scowls, “Emily!”

Emily giggles as she sucks her finger clean, “I’m sorry! It’s just so tasty!” Penelope rolls her eyes, continuing to butter her cake pans. She’s trying hard not to smile, but the corner of her lips begin to betray her. Emily smirks, “I bet it’s so good because you made it with love, huh?”

Penelope purses her lips, “Well, all of my baked goodies are made with love, so this is no exception. It’s also made with uncooked eggs! So stop it! You’re gonna make yourself sick!”

Emily holds the mixing bowl over one of the cake pans, pouring the batter into the round container. “So what? I’ve been through worse than salmonella.”

Penelope frowns, curious as to what Emily meant by that comment. She decides not to ask, despite really wanting to, and instead exclaims, “Emily Prentiss, that is sooo not the point and you know it!” Without thinking too much about it, Penelope brings the spatula she was using to scrape the inside of the bowl and taps Emily’s cheek with it. The batter splatters as it makes contact, leaving droplets on her nose, mouth, and chin as well as her cheek.

Emily’s mouth falls open in shock, immediately bringing her hand up to wipe some of the batter off her cheek. As Penelope cackles, Emily places the mixing bowl down on the counter with a clatter. “Garcia! What the hell!”

Penelope’s laughter subsides into giggles. “I’m sorry but you totally deserved it.”

“I deserve cake batter on my face?”

“Well, since you love eating it so much now you have your own little supply to enjoy while these go in the oven.”

Penelope quickly scrapes the rest of the batter into the second cake pan by herself as Emily swipes her finger across her cheek. Emily stares at the glob of yellow cake batter on the tip of her finger, “I thought you said you wanted me to stop eating the batter.”

“I do. So here, wipe it off.” Penelope tosses Emily a rag, the brunette catching it with one hand.

“But isn’t that a waste of batter?” Emily teases.

“Shut up, you goof. Clean your pretty face.” Penelope teases back.

After Penelope places the two cake pans in the oven, she turns to Emily, who is doing a poor job at removing all of the batter off her face. Penelope shakes her head, “You still have a bit on your cheek.”

“Where?” Emily asks.

Penelope steps closer towards Emily. “There’s a bit on your chin so... here.” She grabs the rag out of Emily’s hands and brings it up to the brunette’s face, gently wiping Emily’s face with the cloth. The women’s eyes lock on each other and they quickly look away, both embarrassed and nervous about being so close together, though neither of them step back. “And...um... here.” Penelope continues, wiping a batter splatter from the corner of Emily’s mouth while trying very hard not to stare at the brunette’s parted lips that look so pretty and soft.

“Am I... um... did you get it all?” Emily asks in a quiet whisper. Penelope’s eyes suddenly widen in surprise, having just returned to reality from daydreaming about what it would be like to kiss her co-worker.

“Yes! Yes, you’re- um... all good! Look at that pretty face!” Penelope says, immediately stepping away from Emily and tossing the dirty dish towel on the counter.

“So, I know you compliment, like, everyone. But I just hope you know how much I appreciate it when you compliment me. I should compliment you more in return.”

“Well, who’s stopping you?” Penelope teases, looking back at Emily with fluttering eyelashes. “Go ahead. I’m all ears.”

“Oh. Um. I-uh...” Emily stutters, heat spreading across her face as she tries to form a coherent thought. “I think you’re really pretty too. Very pretty. And very smart- like, you’re incredibly sharp witted, which really is a big compliment coming from me because I don’t often meet my match. To my wit, that is. Because, you know, I’m... witty, too. I think.”

“You’re really cute when you ramble.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Emily apologizes, the blush finally showing in her cheeks.

“No need to apologize, sugar. You’re totally fine.” Penelope says with a wink.

“How about I open a bottle of wine and we wait in the den till the timer goes off?” Emily suggests.

Penelope gasps, “Trying to get me drunk, Prentiss?”

Emily rolls her eyes playfully, “Red or White?”

“Red. Like that cute shirt you’re wearing.”

Emily chuckles, glancing down at her own shirt. “Oh, thanks! I’ll meet you over there.” The brunette nods her head towards her living room. She watches as Penelope walks out of the kitchen and into Emily’s living room, her chunky heels clunking on the tile before the sound of her steps is muted by the carpet. Emily smiles to herself, admiring how cute the blonde looks even when she’s walking away. Suddenly she shakes her head to rid her brain of an inappropriate thought. She can’t deny that there are several things about her coworker that are extremely attractive: her beauty, her intelligence, her confidence, her charisma. The ability to leave Emily scrambling for words when the blonde opens her mouth and effortlessly flirts.

Now Emily understands what Derek had told her in regards to Penelope, ‘That woman will make you fall in love with her without even trying.’ Because here she is, pouring a glass of wine for the most remarkable woman she has ever met, and falling for Penelope Garcia, just a little.

[spencers-renaissance]

you look after everyone, but who looks after you?

Summary: Penelope is sad and lonely and thinks nobody can see her struggling, but Emily does. When she shows up at her apartment unannounced, one thing leads to another, and soon a miserable evening turns into one of the best in Penelope's life.

Tags: hurt/comfort, sad penelope, angst w a happy ending, cuddling, tooth-rotting fluff, getting together, first kiss, friends to lovers

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Penelope Garcia

Word Count: 1.7k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

I'm imagining s5/6 penemily for this one!

Penelope's small and bright apartment is her only source of comfort tonight, and although she does absolutely everything in her power to maximise the cosiness, to feel as safe and warm as possible inside its protective walls, it still doesn't feel like enough.

She's sad, and she's tired, and a larger part of her than she'd like to admit is bitter, which is an icky emotion, and she hates more than anything that it exists inside of her but tonight, it does, and there isn't anything she can do to stamp that stubborn little flame out.

She has always prided herself on the way she acts towards others. She makes sure that people are okay, and she bakes homemade muffins and puts them on their desks with one of her colourful toys when the bad stuff is getting to them, and she gives out hugs like there's no tomorrow; that's who Penelope Garcia is, and it's something that will always be important to her, no matter what.

But sometimes— sometimes she wants her own Penelope Garcia. It's easier to cheer other people up, to make them smile on a sad and rainy day, than it is to pick herself up out of her own all-consuming, utterly inexorable funks that creep up on her every now and then. And because happiness, colour, and bright smiles are who she can't help but be, people don't always see through that facade when it's no longer an instinct but a mask.

And because she would never dream of putting her bad mood or her sadness or her heavy, weighty grief on the shoulders of anyone else, she's left on her own.

When the last candle is the living room is lit, and her favourite lamps are on; when she's taken a hot shower, and she's put on her favourite pyjamas; when she's placed the order for her dinner-for-one, she sits down slowly on the sofa and pulls her knees up to her chest, staring at the inky blackness of the one window she forgot to draw the curtains over. As she stares, the inky blackness she feels on the inside only grows until it consumes her, swirling aggressively until tears are streaming down her face, and she's choking back sobs that threaten to rip her chest in two.

She's only brought out of her miserable, desolate stupor when the intercom buzzes with a visitor that she supposes is probably the delivery man with her Chinese order. She'd fancied Indian, but it reminded her too much of the team dinners Spencer always dragged them to, and that was just a little too painful for a lonesome night like this.

"Come on up," she says into the intercom, not bothering to hide the tiredness in her voice from a stranger she'll never see again, and without waiting for a response, she sits back on the sofa, staring at the purple walls of her apartment until there's a soft knock at the door.

Almost on auto-pilot, she stands up and opens the door, and her eyes widen as she stares in shock at Emily Prentiss standing in her hallway.

"You're not the delivery man," she whispers, still staring at her with wide eyes.

Emily chuckles sadly. "No, Pen. I'm not."

Penelope nods, blinking a couple of times, very unsure of what to do next or why the woman she's secretly in love with is standing in front of her at 10pm on a Tuesday night.

"Can I come in?" Emily prompts.

"Oh, uh— yes, of course." She opens the door wide enough for Emily to slip into her warmly lit living room and takes the opportunity of Emily's back briefly turned to scrub fruitlessly at her makeup-less, tear-stained face.

"This is cosy."

"Yeah, I just reread my favourite book about Hygge."

"Hygge?"

"It's uh. It's a Danish thing." Usually, she jumps at the opportunity to talk about Hygge and all the things she'd learned from her trip to visit her Danish friend last year, but right now, she's far too tired.

Emily nods, dropping her handbag by the door and walking over to take a seat on the sofa. "Come sit."

Penelope obeys and curls up in the opposite end to Emily, pulling a blanket over her lap and cuddling into it in another vain attempt to cheer herself up. Still, when pretty candles and the promise of takeaway can't make her happy, there really isn't much hope.

They stare at each other for a couple of minutes before Emily speaks, leaning forward a little. "How are you feeling, Penelope?"

Penelope blinks. "I'm fine."

Emily smiles, and again, it's sad. "No, Pen. How are you really feeling?"

She continues staring but doesn't say anything in response.

Emily scoots a little closer on the sofa. "Listen, I've watched you over the last couple of days. I know you're having a hard time, and I know that you won't say anything to anyone because you're brave and strong and quiet in your suffering. You look after everyone, Penelope, but who looks after you?"

Immediately at hearing those words, her face crumples, and she descends into the tears she'd only just managed to stop moments earlier. This time, though, the sobs she'd been choking back spillover, wracking her shoulders as she hugs her knees to her chest, desperate to hold herself together as she completely falls apart.

"Oh, Pen." Emily moves even closer and pries Penelope's hands away from her knees until she's able to guide her into a hug. Penelope usually tries to keep her physical distance from Emily, too scared of what she'll do if given a chance to touch her, but right now, she can't help but bury her face in her neck and cling on to her for dear life as Emily holds her back just as tightly.

"Shh, you're okay, honey," she soothes quietly, running her hand up and down her back gently as she lets Penelope fall apart in her arms. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

She says everything Penelope needs to hear as she cries herself out, sobs eventually receding to tired sniffles as she pulls away from Emily slightly, a little embarrassed of her actions.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cry on you like that."

Emily brings a hand to her chin and lifts her face gently until she's looking directly into Emily's warm, kind brown eyes. "You have nothing to apologise for, okay? I'm just sorry you've been having such a rough time and haven't had anyone to talk to about it."

Penelope nods, still embarrassed that she fell apart so easily but feeling soothed and comforted by Emily's warm words and gentle hands.

Just then, the buzzer goes again. "That's, uh, that's my dinner."

"Ah," Emily says, nodding in understanding. "Is that who you thought I was?"

Penelope looks away sheepishly. "Yeah."

"That explains the abrupt invitation upstairs," Emily says, smiling at her as she gets off the sofa and buzzes the courier up. "You mind if I stick around while you eat?"

"No! Please— please stay," she says, hating the desperation that bleeds into her voice.

"Okay, I'll stay, of course I will," Emily promises, rushing to soothe her again as she hears the agitation and distress in Penelope's voice. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

Penelope nods gratefully. "You can even have some of my eggrolls," she says, managing a little smile as she references the well-known fact that Emily despises eggrolls and makes such a big, dramatic deal out of it every time any of them order Chinese.

Emily laughs, her head tipping back a little. "You're so generous."

She opens the door for the delivery man and takes the bag from him, before bringing it over to the coffee table and laying it out in front of Penelope.

"You should eat up, sweetie," she says in that kind, concerned way of hers as she comes to sit next to her on the sofa, "I'm sure that crying took it out of you, hm?"

Penelope nods tiredly and tucks into her dinner as Emily flicks through the TV channels before settling on a rerun of Will & Grace. They sit in comfortable silence for a little while as the familiar sound of a 90s laugh-track sitcom fills the room and Penelope eats her dinner.

"You need another hug?" Emily asks once she's finished her food and is inching closer on the sofa, and Penelope might be delusional but she swears she sees an inkling of hope on her face, so she doesn't hesitate in nodding.

Emily beams and pulls her closer, arranging them until they're lying horizontally on the sofa, comfortably tangled up in one another, idly watching the TV while they enjoy the comfort of one another's company.

"Pen?" Emily whispers, after a good couple of episodes; after most of the tealights Penelope had lit earlier have burned themselves out. "You know I love you right?"

There's something in her voice that makes Penelope feel brave. "Yeah," she whispers back, burying even closer into her side. "I love you, too, Emily. More than you know."

The last four words are uttered with a weight the fragile air in the room can't hold, and they crash back down between them, making Emily shift to look at her properly. Her face is a myriad of earnest emotions, and Penelope can't look away.

"When I say I love you," Emily says, nerves and anticipation and hope in the whisper of her voice, "I mean it. I don't— I don't love you like a friend, Penelope. I love you more than that."

Penelope stares at her, her heart pounding in her chest as she looks at the woman lying next to her, anxious, hopeful features illuminated by soft candlelight.

"I love you more than that, too."

Emily's nervous features smooth into something warm and eager and happy. "You do?"

Penelope nods, and she's sure her face holds a similar expression. "I do."

"Can I kiss you?" Emily whispers, lifting her hand to rest in Penelope's blond, tangled hair.

"Please," she whispers back, and not a second later she's being kissed like she's never been kissed before; like the ocean's dried up and she's the last gulp of water to be found; like all the world's oxygen's disappeared, and she's the only gasp of fresh air left behind. She's kissed like she is Penelope Garcia and that is enough for Emily Prentiss, she's kissed like she doesn't need anything else but to exist in this moment, right here, right now.

She doesn't want it to end, but when it does, when they've pulled away and their faces are inches apart and they're breathing heavily, when she looks into Emily's eyes and sees everything she's always wanted to find in them, she's glad it did, because the first kiss ending means that they can do it again.

Yes, I'm gonna keep writing that Penelope is very invested in Danish culture okay, it's my fav headcanon, leave me alone. I hope you liked this one! <3

taglist: @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @hotchseyebrows @temily @enbyspencer @criminalmindsvibez @suburban--gothic @reidology @spencerspecifics @hotchedyke @marsjareau @oliverbrnch @physics-magic @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @reidreids @sapphic-stress @wifeyprentiss @cmily @notevanbuckley (add yourself to my taglist here!)

[derekluvbot]

alright my masterlist should he back up and running now

completely forgot that when you change users, you have to update all your links, so the links to masterlist, ask box, and request guidelines has been unusable for months lol

[criminalshminds]

Prompt #16

#16: “I’m going to kiss you now.” Pairing: Penemily (Penelope Garcia/Emily Prentiss) Rating: G - All Audiences Words: 1,350

Thank you Anon for this request, I wanted to involve the whole team this time, but the ending is what I think fluffy with a focus on Penemily.  I hope you like it <3

***********************************************************************

           Christmas time at the BAU used to hold very little fanfare before Penelope Garcia walked through those glass doors.  As soon as the first leaf falls in the autumn, she gets ready to spread some cheer. This year is no different.  The team just finished a case and are currently flying somewhere over the middle of America on their way home.  Penelope knows she has some time to get the decorations up to surprise the team when they come back into the office.  Humming to herself, she grabs the two giant boxes she stashed in the back of Esther this morning.

            Turning around after closing the trunk she jumps as she sees a figure standing right behind her.

           “Sorry Garcia.  I thought you heard me.”  Grant Anderson stood there with an apologetic smile on his face.

            “No, I’m sorry, all spaced out thinking about all of these decorations and how they won’t get hung up by themselves and how I’m going to get them up at some of the tricky spots.”  She rambles on as she bends down to grab the two heavy boxes. Anderson bends down as well, grabbing the top box.

           “Here let me help.  And if you want, I can help you hang them.”

           “You’re just trying to get on my good side again?” She glares at him slightly but letting him continue hold the box and walk with her to the elevator in the parking garage.

           “Maybe.”  He sheepishly says as he presses the button to the main floor.

           “You get the lights all situated and we’ll see.” She huffs slightly, before turning her head to him.  “But you learned your lesson, right?”

           “Yes.  I’ll never enter your office without knocking first.”  He shudders, remembering the scene he walked in on 2 weeks ago.  Nothing too scandalous, of course they were at work, but the last 2 people he thought would be making out in the Bureau were Penelope Garcia and Emily Prentiss.  The latter of the two scared the hell out of him before this encounter, but now he scampers away from both women.  Seeing that Penelope was in a good mood was the only reason he walked up to her in the parking garage.

           By the time the team landed at Dulles, Garcia and Anderson turned the bullpen from its normal sterile look to a Christmas wonderland. Garland wraps around every raised flat surface, some with colorful lights strung through and others with red bows. Wreaths hang from every office door, Hotch’s has little gold and silver bells, Rossi’s has red bows, and JJ’s has small candy canes.  Little fake trees sit on the corner of every desk, each with a little note for each profiler welcoming them to the holiday season.  Anderson managed to string the lights on every hanging fluorescent light, making the ceiling have a colorful display.  Even with the overhead lights off, the bullpen is still lit bright from the number of lights there are.  The final touch was a small sprig of mistletoe nestled above the double glass doors of the main entrance to the bullpen.

           The ding of the elevator alerted Penelope and Anderson of the team’s arrival, causing the latter to scurry off to the steps to go home. As much as he respects the BAU, he keeps his distance from Agent Hotchner after the incident with Elle years earlier.  Penelope rolls her eyes at the squirrely nature of the Agent that helped her make the place festive.  She stands in the center of the room, ready to welcome the team.

           One by one they all make their way through the glass doors, each of them with a tired expression on their face.  Derek was the first through the door, not even hiding a smirk knowing what time of year it was.

           “I thought I was gonna help you with the decorating this year Baby Girl?”  He walks up to the smiling blonde, engulfing her in a big hug.

           “I wanted to make this a surprise.”  Penelope smiles up at him still in his arms before moving to smile to the rest of the team.  “Surprise.”  She moves her arms to make small jazz hands.

           “I love it PG.”  Emily says with a smirk on her lips.

           “So festive.”  JJ agrees, with Rossi nodding his head along with her.

           “It looks good Garcia, I forgot it was close to the holidays.”  Hotch says. He’s the one that breaks up the clump they have by making his way to his office.  Making it to the steps, he calls out behind him, “just get some paperwork done tonight, you can all finish in the morning.”

           “But it’s only November.”  Reid mumbles before taking off his shoulder bag.

           “Duty calls.”  Derek rolls his eyes.  The team slowly makes their way to their prospective desks to try to get out of the office as fast as possible.

           “Oh Em!  I have some treats for Sergio in my office.  I’ll go grab those.”  Penelope goes to scurry towards her office as a hand catches her arm.  She looks up to see her secret girlfriend of 6 months gently holding her forearm.

           “I’ll come with.”  Emily smiles at her before removing her arm to not appear too touchy feely. No one would bat an eyelash at Penelope holding Emily, but the other way around would have raised some eyebrows. They walk side by side and make it to the glass doors before Derek calls out to them.

           “Hey, Baby Girl, Princess.”  He couldn’t contain the smirk on his lips.  The two girls stop and turn to look at him unamused.  He doesn’t even say anything, just tips his head up for them to look up.  Simultaneously their heads look up to see the mistletoe hanging up between them.  Both of their cheeks turn slightly pink as they make eye contact.

           “I’m sorry, I didn’t think that anyone would actually get caught under it.”  Penelope whispers.  Her words are barely decipherable as she rushes to get them out.  “I know we never agreed on when the team would know.  Do you think it’s too soon?  I know that they will make us stay here until a kiss happens. And by they, I mean Morgan and he’s not gonna let a cheek kiss slide.  I don’t want you to feel –”

           A finger to her lips stops her mid-sentence.  Emily moves her finger slowly before whispering back. “I’m going to kiss you now.  Okay?”  Emily waits for the nod of approval before slowly leaning forward. 

          She meant for the kiss to be chaste, but the second their lips touched the world around them shifted.  Gone was the bullpen, and all either of them could think of was each other.  Emily had her hands all wound up in Penelope’s hair and Penelope’s hands found their way linked to the belt loops of Emily’s jeans. They would have kept going, but the clearing of someone’s throat managed to break them apart.  They both slowly opened their eyes to see the rest of the team just staring at them.  Some with their jaws hanging open, some with giant smiles on their faces.

          Penelope lets out a small squeak as Emily slings her arm around her shoulder. “Uh, surprise?”  The blonde said meekly as her cheeks start to heat up. At those words, Morgan and JJ start cheering before turning to the other three agents.

          “Pay up! Told you so.”  JJ dances her way over to collect her money.

          “No fair, they must have told you something during all of your girls nights.” Reid pouts as he slaps a 10 dollar bill in the two hands in front of him.

          Emily glares slightly as the money is getting exchanged.  “You bet on us?”  Before she could get started on interrogating the team, Penelope lightly squeezes her hand.

          “It’s okay.  That just means that the drinks are on them.”  Pen whispers to her girlfriend before shooting a wink to Morgan who overheard and started complaining.

           “Hm, I like the sound of that.”  Emily whispers back before finding her lips again.

[reidselle]

[unmitigatedsuperiority]

Cold Hands, Warm Hearts

Summary: One particularly cold night, Penelope gets locked out of her motel room. Luckily, Emily is there to keep her warm.

Pairing: Penelope Garcia x Emily Prentiss

Word count: 2.6k

Category: Fluff

Rating: T

Warnings: Mentions of smoking, referenced alcohol use, getting locked out

Ao3 Link

This fic is for @sweetprentiss' birthday celebration! The prompt is: "Your hands feel good in mine."

-

Bitter cold nipped at Penelope’s cheeks as she desperately rubbed her hands together, seeking whatever little heat the motion could create for her. Her fingers long since gone red and tingly from the freezing temperatures, making it desperately difficult to feel any iota of warmth. Stupid motel. Stupid winter. Penelope would give anything to time travel back to earlier that morning, hold the cool metal room key in her hands. But time travel wasn’t real. And her key laid solitary on the bedside table just beyond the door she’d given up on trying to break into. Instead, she buckled herself in, mentally preparing for what she could melodramatically declare as the worst night ever.

“Shit,” Penelope mumbled under her breath, succumbing to the bitter cold, resenting freezing temperatures and locked doors. She huddled into herself, trying to retain warmth while thinking up a plan. That lasted all of two seconds before a figure approaching from the right caught her eye. They smelled of jasmine and smoke, an achingly familiar perfume. Penelope knew in her gut exactly who it was before they even came into view.

“What are you doing out here?” Emily asked, crease in her brow, as she stopped before the shivering figure before her. Penelope groaned.

“I left my stupid keys inside.” Emily chuckled and Penelope glared at her in return, which only made her smile widen further. And, well, Penelope couldn’t bring herself to be mad about that. Emily sighed, her exhale visible in the frigid air. After a few moments of comfortable silence, Penelope wrinkled her nose at an acrid scent wafting in from her right. She sniffed once, twice, to be sure her nose wasn’t betraying her. She turned to Emily.

“Emily Prentiss, were you smoking?” Emily grimaced as she sat down on the curb next to her, hardly a breadth of space between them.

“Don’t tell Hotch, he thinks I quit,” she answered. Penelope smirked in response. The lingering smell of cigarettes slightly sweet.

“Well, I won’t tell if you won’t,” she quipped. It made Emily smile, a flash of white against the dimly lit night. Emily shoved her hands in her jacket pockets as she settled in. Penelope shifted ever so slightly closer to her. She heard Emily’s coat rustle and convinced herself it was because the other woman was also scooting in close. That’s the reality Penelope had decided on, just for now. Just for this moment.

“I thought you all weren’t supposed to be back yet,” Penelope said, not making any sudden movements. Emily turned to face her.

“What can I say? We caught the bad guy.”

“My hero,” Penelope teased, consciously aware of the redness of her cheeks. It was just cold, that’s all. Not that Emily could say anything, a vibrant pink hue at the tips of her ears.

“Hey, you’re shivering,” Emily pointed out, concern lacing her voice. It was true, Penelope realized. She knew she was cold, but hadn’t realized just how much until that moment. Talking to Emily was like that sometimes. It made everything else, everything unpleasant, fade away.

“It’s more my hands than anything else,” Penelope reassured her. Emily didn’t look swayed. The subtle shivering Penelope was now trying to suppress didn’t help. Emily reached out; a questioning look in her eyes. Penelope cautiously pulled her hands out of her coat pockets, held them out in front of her.

Emily cupped her shaking palms, pressed them together.

“Your hands are cold,” Penelope breathed. Emily smirked, continuing on.

What Penelope didn’t mention was that when Emily’s hands wrapped around hers, Penelope felt time slow down. As though something monumental was happening. Emily glanced up once, unreadable. Slowly, she tilted her face down between the two of them and exhaled hot breaths onto Penelope’s fingers. Heating them up, one by one. The warm air puffed into her hands helped with the cold but sent an entirely different kind of shiver down Penelope’s spine. There were no words to describe what was running through her mind, through her body, at the strangely affectionate gesture. Penelope couldn’t bring it in herself to put a stop to this, though. This sudden intimate moment. Emily kept on, warming up every part of her hands.

After several heated breaths from Emily, bated breath from Penelope, time resumed at its normal pace. Penelope blinked once, twice, willing herself back into reality. Once she did, she found Emily staring at her. Not moving.

“Come back to my room. Please,” Emily softly spoke. “It’s warm there,” she explained. Penelope looked up at her, studying her features. She could never find it in herself to say no to Emily Prentiss, even when she wanted to. Good thing she wasn’t planning on refusing the offer.

“Okay,” Penelope agreed. Emily thinned her lips, a silent agreement as she stood up, Penelope’s hand still in hers. She pulled slightly to help her up. Penelope took in the sight for a second, the light from the overhang basking Emily in an ethereal glow, bringing out the subtle brown highlights in her hair. Penelope then shook her head, pushed herself off the concrete, reluctantly dropped Emily’s hand. Her palm felt empty without the weight of Emily’s in it.

Of course, Penelope was used to this feeling. Well, not this specific physical feeling. But rather the achy loneliness that came after any semi-intimate moment with Emily. If JJ could see her now, she’d be slapping her upside the head for not making a move. And normally, Penelope would. With anyone else, she totally would. She thrived on being in control, hated in-betweens and uncertainty. But that’s where she and Emily were destined to lie. In this vague gray area that Penelope wasn’t even sure the other woman was aware of.

The walk back was short and silent. Penelope could hear the whistling of the wind, feel the cold slicing into her cheek. The icy chill reaffirmed the practical decision to go to Emily’s room with her. It wasn’t just her giant, hopeless crush talking. This was a logical choice. The only choice, really.

Emily stopped in front of a faded green door, dug around in her coat for her key. Penelope felt a pang of jealousy at the flash of silver. Must be nice to have a room key. She couldn’t complain, though. Time with Emily was never a bad thing.

The two of them stamped in, kicking snow off their shoes before shedding their layers, piling coats onto an empty armchair. Penelope settled onto the bed. Full size. Roomier than most government-sanctioned motel rooms provide. Not that she had much experience traveling on cases, but this seemed like best case scenario. Well, up until she locked herself out, of course.

“Do you want to warm up a bit and then talk to the manager about letting you into your room?” Emily offered. Penelope shook her head.

“He’s gone for the night. He’ll be back in the morning,” she explained. Emily hummed. A beat passed.

“That’s kind of a stupid business practice,” Emily pointed out. Penelope laughed, Emily joining in with her.

“Yeah, it kind of is.” Penelope agreed. Emily looked around, as though mulling over options in her mind.

“Alright, you can stay with me for the night, then,” Emily said, decisive. Penelope smiled.

“Like a slumber party!”

Emily laughed. “Like a slumber party,” she affirmed, flashing Penelope a wicked smile that made the other woman’s palms sweat. Penelope suddenly felt woefully unprepared. She hated being unprepared.

“You’ll need something to change into,” Emily mentioned. “Uh…” She trailed off. Uncertain. Emily rummaged around in the black duffle before chucking a lump of fabric at Penelope’s face. Penelope chuckled before unfolding the cotton shirt, her throat suddenly dry. As though someone had sucked all the air out of the room.

This was her shirt. In Emily’s bag.

“Do you…” Penelope started, unable to finish the sentence. She wanted to ask if Emily always kept Penelope’s clothes in her go-bag, but the answer was evident here. Penelope’s presence on this case was last minute. This wasn’t planned. This was just something Emily did. Penelope felt her insides thaw out, a tingly kind of warmth creeping in. A floaty feeling. Penelope turned the shirt over in her hands. It was an old one. Oversized. Familiar. Why did Emily have it? Penelope wracked her brain for a few seconds before realization crept in.

“I gave you this when you came over to help paint my apartment,” Penelope spoke, soft. Emily looked down. She looked…sheepish. Penelope nodded, confirming her own story. “So that you wouldn’t get paint on your clothes…” She trailed off. All the memories flooding back to her.

“I’m here, and I come bearing gifts!” Emily yelled out as she let herself into Penelope’s apartment. It was the first time Emily didn’t get lost trying to find it and she was quite proud of that fact. Penelope now peered around the corner, dressed in her most ragged overalls, paintbrush in hand. She huffed a laugh when she saw what Emily was holding.

“Emily Prentiss, you better not get drunk while painting my apartment. I’m trusting you with this paintbrush,” she thrust it towards her, bristles out.

“I’m not going to drunkenly paint your apartment, don’t worry,” Emily reassured the fretting blonde as she set the bottle of wine on the counter. “I’ll only be tipsy. The drunkenness comes after.” She flashed a devilish grin. Penelope rolled her eyes, unable to be frustrated with the woman she’d grown to love. Her best friend.

“Just come help me. I’ve already started…” Penelope trailed off, gave Emily a once-over. “Please tell me you brought other clothes to change into.”

“No, I didn’t have time to stop at my place. I figured I could just borrow something from my incredible, amazing friend.” Emily laid it on thick. That same smile. Penelope could never resist that smile.

“Ugh, anything for you, my incredible, amazing, pain in my butt,” Penelope grinned, already turning around and walking towards her bedroom. She pulled out one of her drawers, rummaged through until she found a ratty old hackathon t-shirt. “Here,” Penelope called, tossing it Emily’s way. Emily just barely caught it, holding the shirt up to inspect the design. Emily laughed at what was printed on, turning it around to face Penelope and reading the saying out loud…

“Hack to the Future,” Penelope mumbled, fingers tracing over the bright blue letters.

“That’s one of my favorite memories,” Emily spoke, quiet. “I’d only been with the BAU for a few months, but you didn’t make me feel like an outsider. You became my best friend.”

Penelope felt the exact same. She’d had the inklings of a crush—since the moment they met, really—but at that point everything was still new and exciting. There was still hope. Until Penelope did something incredibly stupid, of course. She fell in love with her best friend.

“It’s one of my favorite memories, too,” Penelope breathed, clutching the shirt, thinking back to a smiling, laughing, decidedly drunk-not-tipsy Emily Prentiss with paint smeared on her cheek. It was unavoidable, really. Falling in love. But they were already cemented in their friendship by then. Penelope wouldn’t risk it. Couldn’t risk it.

“You know…” Emily started. Sighed. Penelope placed the memento beside her as she listened for her next words. “I’d never do anything to ruin that. Our friendship is too important to me,” Emily whispered. Penelope’s heartbeat pounded in her ears as Emily slowly walked closer to her, a painstaking pace. An unreadable expression. The shivers returned at the impending closeness.

“Em…” She whispered as Emily paused, standing directly in front of her. Penelope remained seated as she looked up into Emily’s eyes, basked in her gaze.

“Just,” Emily spoke. “I’m a hypocrite, okay? But let me try something…” She placed a finger under Penelope’s chin, featherlight. Penelope felt her cheeks burn at the touch. No more worries about being cold, Penelope was burning up under the scrutiny of Emily’s stare.

Penelope kept her eyes open until the last second, not wanting to forget a thing. Emily did the same, only closing her eyes once she had closed the gap. At that small brush of lips, Penelope thought her heart was going to burst out of her chest, fracturing every piece of her until she was a jagged mess at Emily’s feet. But that didn’t happen. Instead, the slightest spark of static electricity when Emily placed her other hand on Penelope’s leg—for balance—propelled her into motion. Penelope lifted her palms up to cradle Emily’s face, thumbs tracing over her cheekbones as she returned the kiss, eagerly.

Emily tasted like cigarette smoke and the mints she carried to hide the smell on her breath, but Penelope couldn't bring herself to care. The two moved in tandem, finding an easy rhythm. Gentle, slow, desperate. It never progressed any further, but Penelope held on tight, trying to convey every overwhelming, passionate emotion into their kiss. Emily slid her hand from Penelope’s chin down to where her neck met her shoulder. Penelope shivered at the touch, the cold hand on her neck, before moving to grip Emily’s waist. Penelope attempted to drag her down even closer despite the awkward angle. She couldn’t bear the thought of letting Emily go.

Emily held firm on Penelope’s thigh, shaky in her balancing act. It wasn’t enough though, as the kiss was broken by Emily falling on top of Penelope, an ungraceful oof as she landed in the other woman’s lap. Emily caught her gaze, and all was silent for just a moment before the pair burst out into laughter. Uncontrollable, tear-inducing laughter. Penelope helped pull her further onto the bed, so the two sat side by side. She continued giggling at the ridiculousness of the situation, watching Emily’s face light up as she did the same.

Penelope couldn’t help but be in awe of the woman before her, the radiant sense of comfort she felt in Emily’s presence. She thought she was in for a cold, lonely night ahead, but Emily Prentiss defied expectations. She disseminated an easy warmth that melted even the coldest tundras, the largest glaciers. It might just melt Penelope’s heart.

The giggles slowly faded, giddiness with it. Eventually the pair laid down together on the bed, facing each other. Penelope intertwined their hands. She was determined to hold on to this moment. Hold onto Emily. They stayed like this, comfortably quiet, just savoring the moment and each other.

“As much as I would love to keep doing…this,” Emily gestured between the two of them with their linked hands. “We should probably get some sleep. Early start tomorrow. We can ask the manager to let you into your room then.” Emily went to get up, fingers slowly stretching out.

Penelope didn’t let go of Emily, though. Emily sent her a questioning look but didn’t make any further moves to pull away. Penelope looked down, up.

“Your hands feel good in mine,” She mumbled. Emily beamed in response, brought up their joined hands, kissed Penelope’s knuckles. She broke out into a grin.

“Your hands feel good in mine?” Emily teased, no malice in her tone. Penelope let go of one hand to swat her on the arm, playful.

“Yes. And my hands are cold!” Penelope whined.

“So are mine!” Emily laughed, settled back into her space as she squeezed their hands once, twice. Eventually, they’d have to get up. Get ready for bed. Talk about what all of this means. But right now? It could wait. All that mattered were Emily’s hands in Penelope’s. The gleeful expressions on their faces. Penelope was suddenly grateful for locking herself out. Who needed a key to their own motel room when you could share one with your best friend? In this moment, Penelope decided that maybe tonight wasn’t the worst night ever. Cold hands, warm hearts, and maybe—just maybe—it was the start of something beautiful.

-

taglist: @ropoto @reidactually @dalexandriag16 @honeyreid @reidselle

masterlist | join my taglist

[bentforkent]

how soon is now?

penelope garcia x emily prentiss

angst, fluff

word count: 1892

TWs: emily is suffering from some very real depression that manifests in self-loathing and mean thoughts about herself. if that is triggering, please do not read! (also trigger warning for gun violence)

also moreid is canon here. duh. <3

also also shoutout my darling forever @hotchseyebrows for being the first to read & reassuring me that omg, i actually can write sometimes :D

- - - - - -- - -- -- - - - - - -- - -

When Emily feels the unfamiliar flame of jealousy lick her insides, she doesn’t know where it’s coming from. It’s a Tuesday, a regular day, and she’s taken her regular seat on the jet next to her regular seat-partner Derek. It’s all so painfully normal that the strange jealous feeling is amplified. And Emily doesn’t know where it’s coming from, but she knows she shouldn’t feel this way.

Derek, acutely aware of the sour mood of typically cool Emily, tucks his phone into his front pocket.

“Okay, what’s up? You’re tense,” he points out.

“No, I’m not,” Emily replies, stubborn.

“Yes, you are, Prentiss.” Derek narrows his eyes, peering at Emily. “I called Penelope, took my eyes off of you for half a second, and now you’re all pissy.”

Penelope.

The unfamiliar jealous feeling, then, has a source.

Emily, embarrassed as ever, tugs her headphones over her ears, silencing Derek with a half-playful side-eye. She’s grateful he chooses to drop the subject there. How would Emily explain to him that the reason she’s upset is the absolutely petty fact that she wants to be the one to call Penelope and tell her the team is safe and on their way home?

Emily knows it’s irrational.  Derek is always the one to call Penelope on the jet, always the one to reassure her that everyone is alive and well and we’ll see you soon. He gives her a few flirtatious remarks, and through the static of the phone, Emily can usually make out Penelope’s coquettish replies. She imagines a big grin on Penelope’s face as she twirls her shiny, soft blonde hair and flirts with Derek. Just once, Emily wishes Penelope was flirting with her.

And, okay--Emily isn’t normally a sap. But Penelope makes her feel different. Makes her feel...tender. As much as Emily hates to admit it---it makes her feel like a teenager---she has a crush on Penelope.

As she blasts her music loud enough that her headphones rattle, sinking lower into the comfy leather jet-seat, she recognizes this crush. She feels a bit conflicted about it, actually.

Save for the fact that the word “crush” itself feels like a cyanide pill in the corner of her mouth — Emily feels ridiculous for even having feelings toward Penelope. She’s so good, so soft and good-natured...and Emily is rotten, complicated, closed-off — Emily stops before she can think of any more mean words about herself.

How could sweet Penelope ever look twice at her?

Emily lets out an audible huff, causing Derek to turn towards her.

She sticks her tongue out at him like a child, tugging her worn fleece blanket up over head as if it makes her invisible.

------

When Emily Prentiss gets shot in the field during a case, it’s entirely her fault.

Well, to everyone else, it’s not, but to Emily it is.

Her fault for being distracted, her fault for not protecting her legs enough, her fault for not apprehending the unsub sooner, her fault, her fault, her fault.

She feels like she’s floating through the hospital halls, bright lights causing spots in her eyes. The room they put her in after her surgery is clean, too clean.

The wing she’s in doesn’t even carry the same sadness one expects from a hospital —- it’s called the recovery unit. It feels like hope.

It makes Emily sick.

It smells like Clorox wipes and sunshine, and Emily desperately wants to smear dirt on the walls or track mud into the room.

Maybe then it would feel like she deserved to be there.

Her teammates congregate outside of the door, thinking Emily is still asleep. She can hear them, murmuring about who should drive her back to Quantico. Spencer offers to, with brightness in his voice, and after a beat of silence, Emily hears Derek make a light-hearted joke at Spencer’s expense. The sound of them laughing together is comforting enough to break Emily from her self-deprecating cycle of thoughts.

“Come in,” She calls out, voice hoarse from a period of disuse.

Her friends file into the room quickly. Spencer is nearly shaking with excitement, pushing past Hotch to find Emily’s bedside. He hugs her to the best of his ability while remaining hyper-conscious of her injury.

“Hi, Spence,” Emily murmurs, clutching his sweater vest in her hands tightly. They embrace for a while, long enough to make the others in the room uncomfortable, but Emily doesn’t mind. Spencer is so good, so kind, and if Emily hugs him long enough she thinks maybe she could be good too.

When they finally part, Emily steels her gaze at Derek, mentally preparing herself to switch from her terrible mood of self-loathing into a more casual, socially acceptable one.

“Derek,” she starts, and he’s looking at her like she’s telling the secrets of the universe, “I heard you tell Spencer that gay people can’t drive.”

Any residual awkwardness in the room pops like a bubble, laughter rippling over the people in the room. JJ relaxes, leaning against the wall next to Rossi. Spencer takes a seat on the edge of Emily’s bed, Derek finding a seat next to him. Hotch sits in the chair closest to her, and it feels warm.

For a split second, Emily embraces the warmth.

But something, someone, is blatantly missing, and Emily is acutely aware of it. “Has anyone called Penelope?” she asks, scanning the room.

Derek and Spencer exchange a quick glance, and Emily pretends not to notice.

She’d told Spencer about her feelings for Penelope, naturally. It’s unsurprising the news had made it back to Derek. Emily wonders if Derek had known about it a few weeks ago, when he called her out for being upset on the plane ride home.

“I did,” JJ says, snapping Emily back into reality. “She’s upset you’re hurt, obviously, but she said she’s excited to hang out with you and Sergio while she quote, ‘nurses you back to health.’”

Emily tries to stifle her grin, to no avail. “Cool.” She attempts nonchalance.

She turns to Hotch, who’s lounging against the back of his chair, drinking in the casually wholesome interactions of his subordinates. He looks calm for once, Emily notes, and it makes her crack a half-smile. Here she is, laying in a hospital bed, bullethole in her leg, and Hotch takes this moment to be a human capable of emotion? “When can I get out of here, Hotch?”

“Whenever your co-workers decide who’s driving you back,” Hotch replies, bracing his hands on his knees and pushing himself up out of the chair.

Derek stands then, as well, ruffling Spencer’s hair. “I’m driving, and Spencer is insisting on co-piloting.”

Emily shakes her head, raising her eyebrow jovially. “You think I’m letting Spencer ride shotgun? Fat chance.”

- - - - -

“Just stay the night,” Emily says, tossing a stiff throw pillow in Penelope’s direction.

Penelope catches the pillow, clutching the deep red cushion to her chest. She pauses, pursing her lips in a kinesthetic attempt to help her find her careful next words.

“Well...no offense, but you aren’t particularly fun to be around right now, so I’m just gonna go home.”

There’s a moment where the air feels tight. Sergio’s tail whips around, the only sound in the living room.

Emily feels, quite frankly, like shit.

And this is the part where she, on any normal day, would throw her head into her hands, tug on her bangs, and absolutely wallow in any negative emotion she could find.

I’m so vile, she’d think, I can’t even be around Penelope without spewing disgusting energy out of my pores. I’m radioactive. One more second here and I would turn her into a pile of ruin, a pile of toxic dust.

Penelope had spent her past week driving to Emily’s apartment immediately after work to dote on her. She burst in the door with tote bags full of blankets on Monday, candies on Tuesday, and when Emily told her to please stop buying things for me, Wednesday was a tote bag of stuff for Sergio.

Penelope cooked a different soup each evening, made sure Emily’s water bottle was filled and ice cold, administered pain medications as needed, and was a light in Emily’s dull, dreary apartment.

Emily hated it.

Hated that Penelope was wasting her time hanging around her when she probably had better things to do. Hated that she was so helpless that she needed an aide. Hated everything about the situation, really.

And of course, she was grateful. In any scenario, Emily wants to be near Penelope, and she’s acutely aware of Penelope’s benevolence in taking time to care for her. But she’s not very good at expressing that, and instead of thanking Penelope profusely, she’s lashed out.

She knew it was wrong, and she felt like shit about it, but she had resigned herself to just being a terrible person so long ago that it was just so.

Emily is tired.

She’s tired, so tired, and she’s the worst, but Penelope is looking at her, begging to understand, and Emily cracks.

Penelope is peering intently at Emily. Treading lightly, she asks, “What’s wrong?”

Emily hangs her head.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “Sorry for being mean to you. I appreciate you being here.”

Penelope nods, leaning over to pat Emily’s arm. “I know you do.” Then she’s leaning over and wiping Emily’s cheeks and oh, Emily didn’t even realize she was crying.

Once she notices the tears, she can’t stop them. They flow down her cheeks like she’s never cried before, and for a moment she doesn’t believe she has.

Penelope is holding her, tenderly, like Emily is glass.

Stop being so nice to me, Emily thinks. I don’t deserve it.

Once Emily has calmed down, Penelope says, “I’ll stay the night if you promise not to be so pouty.” Her pinky finger sticks out in Emily’s direction, perfectly manicured.

Emily hooks her own pinky with Penelope’s and nods.

—--

Weeks later, when Emily gets in her car with a small grin on her face, Penelope asks, “How was it?”

“Really good,” Emily tells her, handing her a small stack of bright-white papers. “She wants me to work on my thinking patterns.” Emily points to the paper titled “Thinking Patterns” in big black block letters.

“So you’ll go back, you think?” Penelope asks casually. Emily puts the car in reverse and pulls out of the parking lot.

She hums. “Yeah, I’ll go back. I liked her.”

Penelope puffs her chest out a little, proud of herself. She was the one to find the therapist for Emily, after all.

“So thank you,”  Emily adds, as if she read Penelope’s mind.

There’s a few moments of silence. Penelope watches the trees whip past the car as they drive.

“Hey, can I run something by you?” Emily asks. Her voice is uncharacteristically shaky. Emily continues before Penelope can even react. “When I’m like, good at this therapy shit, and feeling better, can I, like” — she pauses— “like, take you out or something? On a date?”

Penelope smiles something radiant, reaching for Emily’s hand and interlocking their fingers.

“I’d like that.”

[sideblogforcrimpy-plus]

Title: Shape of You

Words: 16,109m and it's a oneshot (idk how to chapters)

Rated: General, there’s no smut. Idk, teen and up (rlly not expecting under-teens to be reading CM fic tho)

You can find this on Ao3, by the way

Summary: Emily is house hunting while the BAU has an ongoing case. The house that she buys may or may not be haunted. Is haunted the right word? Probably not, but let's not dwell on the semantics. Also Emily is in lesbians with Penelope and tryna be cool about it.

Besties this one tuckered me out in the best of ways. Ignore typos, I'm making this post at after 6am after a full night of writing and editing. Thank.

Emily's house-hunting was made easier by the fact that their current case was close to home. At least, it was initially.

A man -going by the profile- was attacking young men in bars, and had been for some time. He seemed too advanced with the victims list they were given in the beginning. Too experienced, too precise. Seeing the number of likely linked cases go from single to double digits after running details of the attacks through the NCIC was horrifying, but not a surprise.

Then, after Garcia and Derek hunted a little more online they were able to find a small number of incidents at bars in what seemed the unsub's initial hunting grounds. These incidents felt an awful lot like the small spark preceding a wildfire.

And it was right there in their home state, under their noses.

You’d think that while dealing with the stress of a case like this, looking for a home as a prospective buyer would be a nice break.

You’d think.

Walking around the house, fingers trailing along benches, tables, and walls, Emily was once again unsure. She knew she wanted to own a house, to not have to deal with the pain of scheduling repairmen through landlords adverse to both repairs and timely replies on top of her own terrible schedule. To be able to have a cat and not worry if the next landlord would kick up a fuss, or whether or not she could find another place suitable for said hypothetical cat.

This house, like the others she had looked at, seemed to offer her what she wanted, but she was constantly unsure. What if she wound up despising it? What if after she bought it she felt less like a ship safely anchored and more a ship ran aground?

Every time she walked through a house with the thought of buying as a possibility, she was plagued with these thoughts. And every time she had called to make an offer after thinking maybe she could see herself living there, she'd been told someone else had done so already.

She was tired of it, and this apartment was aged in a comfortable way -it was far from the stark whites and beiges she grew up with.

It was like she could see little bits of the previous owner in it. The house was coming pre-furnished, with some of the prior owner's belongings actually still boxed up in the spare room. As she made another lap through the house, she pictured a kindly, doddering professor that chose comfort over fashion, and she liked it.

The carpet, and what hardwood flooring was exposed, was well treated but also well used; scuffed and worn from use over time, but carefully cleaned. Even with the wooden flooring, it looked polished somewhat recently.

There was a reading nook that seemed nice in theory, but she knew she wouldn't get much time to utilise it. The couch was one she could picture sinking into at the end of the day, the fabric old and soft with cushions that were plush and inviting.

The kitchen was the least used, by the look of it. The appliances were cheap but serviceable and looked mostly unused, whereas other features of the house looked carefully selected. The wooden countertop that would work wonderfully as one you could use as a cutting board and sand down -an expensive feature Rossi wanted to use immediately when she'd showed him the listing- hardly had a mark on it.

All this and the stash of takeaway menus slotted down the side of the cutlery draw made Emily smile; she wasn’t one for the kitchen, either.

She concluded that that old house felt homely in comparison to the one she was raised in. It felt lived in and loved, warm and welcoming.

As a result, Emily put in an offer before she’d even left the house; if there was no time to think about it, then there was no time for her doubts to belay her. Regret started digging its claws in her the moment she sat in her car, the windows of the apartment above her looking like they were frowning down at her with the blinds half closed as they were. She debated going back in, likely interrupting the real estate agent’s call to the owner, but a text came in about a new case, so she hesitantly pulled out of the park and got herself into work mode.

Buying a house as a spur of the moment thing couldn’t really be done, given all the forms needing processing, finance information going back and forth, and an agreed upon settlement date among other things.

But Emily thought this was pretty close to it.

The search into their unsub regarding the attacks at bars and clubs had slowed down; it appeared the heat on the unsub after interstate attacks were linked and the FBI being brought in had halted the killings. It meant they were back to predominantly doing consults individually while the team as a whole worked on piecing together what they could on what was now their ‘main’ case.

While the reprieve was certainly good for those who would have been victims, it meant there was no new evidence coming in. It also meant that Emily had less distractions when it came to her potential new home.

Undecided on whether it was too long or short of a wait to hear the news after going through the motions in the following months, Emily got a call while boarding the jet that settlement had gone through, and she could pick up the keys whenever she had the time to from the real estate office. Conveniently, the peppy receptionist advised, it was only five minutes by train from her wonderful new home.

The joy she’d been told about when hearing settlement has gone through felt an awful lot like the dreadful familiarity of anxiety and regret, she found.

Coming home to an apartment half unpacked wasn’t Emily’s ideal way of decompressing after a frustrating day’s work, but at least she could leave it a bit messy with no repercussions in the form of upcoming rental inspections.

Their ‘main case’ unsub had recently started back up again, but with previously unseen fervour; it seems holding back as long as they did was a struggle, and they were making up lost time in the form of brutality and frequency.

Adding to that the anger of precincts not willing to share with the FBI now that they were linking more attacks across cities and everybody was getting quite fed up.

Emily crumpled up the packaging of the biscuits she’d just finished off, and dragged her feet on the way to the kitchen. She opened the cupboard beneath the sink and threw the rubbish in, frowning when she heard it hit the bottom of the cupboard instead of the bin.

“What the hell?” The open cupboard revealed an empty, bin-sized gap, and she tapped her fingers on the counter as she tried to recall what happened. 

“Must have washed it.” She mumbled under her breath, picking up the rubbish and moving to check the laundry. She stopped, however, when she saw it beneath the bench on the side of the living room, certainly not where she’d normally leave it.

She hesitated, lifting a hand to rub at her collarbone while her eyes cast about the room. They settled on a sturdy torch with a long, heavy handle. She couldn’t remember how it came into her possession, but she was suddenly thankful for it. Wielding it more like a bat than a torch, she walked around the house in a self-conscious way. If an intruder had been in here, the last thing they’d likely do is move her bin, so it felt a little ridiculous. All the same, the tense rigidity of her shoulders eased away as she circled back to the kitchen.

Angrily, and a little embarrassed despite there not being an audience, she shoved the bin beneath the sink again and decided she’d had enough of today. Besides, Penelope had gifted her beautifully soft bedding for a housewarming gift and she was eager to sleep in them.

“So you moved it, forgot, and then felt like you had to snoop around your own house?” Penelope’s grin was a balm to Emily’s embarrassment, even though it was because Emily was telling her how stupid she’d acted.

“Yeah, I... I guess? I mean, how else could it have happened?” Emily had pilfered a spare office chair, which she was now spinning in half circles on while the other woman clacked away at her keyboard.

“Well, everyone is tuckered out by this case, dearest, so a little forgetfulness is understandable. Although the image of you holding a nightstick while walking around your house is what I’ll picture next time the sandman mistreats me with bad dreams.” At Emily’s exaggerated sigh, the colourfully dressed woman beamed, an equally bright laugh making Emily force back a smile.

“My protector and my nightlight, what more could I want in a woman?” At this, Emily bit her tongue and jutted her chin in the direction of the analyst’s screens.

“Shouldn’t you be focusing on those?”

“Shouldn’t you be at the precinct doing some profiling and investigating magic so you have an excuse to call me and give me things to research?” Emily conceded, nodding her head.

“Yeah, maybe.”

While she was yet to host a house-warming party, Emily eased the pressure of holding one by planning to have Penelope over while Derek was there to help her fix some issues.

More accurately, she’d complained about leaky taps making it hard for her to sleep until Derek offered to come over and fix them. He’d tried giving her tips on what to do at first, but when he started talking about needing ‘only’ a flat-headed screwdriver and a spanner, she raised her brows.

“Derek, I’m the daughter of an ambassador. I’m flattered you think I’m capable, but I’m really not.”

He’d laughed, waving a dismissive hand. “Alright, princess, I’ll come help you out this weekend.”

“My knight in shining armour,” she rolled her eyes, “what would I do without you?”

“Lose your mind over a leaky tap, is my guess.”

She flicked a hand in his direction, shaking her head as she did. He was insufferable sometimes. He couldn’t take offence at her sarcasm on account of the obvious smile she was sporting.

-

Before Derek was able to come over, Emily had started losing her mind over a number of other small things. Truthfully, her regret had given way to joy at the house; it really did feel like a home instead of a house.

But.

There were just little things that caused hesitation, and maybe a little fear.

Thursday night, Penelope had decided to come over and check out the house. She used the excuse of wanting to be the first to see it, before even Derek that coming weekend. But it was Emily’s unease; the mostly but not entirely true smile she gave when talking about the house, that had prompted the self-invite.

Emily was still getting used to the house, occasionally misremembering where she placed the washcloth for the dishes, going to throw something in the bin and almost dropping it on the floor when the bin was by the darn bench again instead, or even pushing open windows she hadn't recalled closing to begin with. Maybe she should have adjusted to the house already, but it’s not like she was actually able to spend a lot of time there given their work.

After a tour of the house, Penny had immediately claimed the reading nook; she was so excited by Emily having one she turned down the more comfortable couch for the novelty. Emily wouldn’t fight it, because it meant she could lay down across the length of the couch without putting Penelope out of a choice seating spot.

With her eyes closed and arms crossed on her chest, she spoke to Penelope about it, about the feeling of someone, or something, moving things while she wasn’t looking. Subtly messing with her stuff but not enough for it to be a full threat. 

Penny mentioned she might have a ghost on her hands. The two laughed, but the teasing 'don't offend the dearly departed, my dear' Penny said before she left the house that evening sat uncomfortably in her chest.

Those words began stewing in the back of her mind; Penelope's ghost comment. Just quietly, as Emily dealt with true horrors and demons in her line of work, and didn't believe in ghosts, did she?

Did she?

Fear she tried to bat away slowly gripped her as she became less sure of her convictions regarding those no longer of the living.

-

“See? I told you, changing a washer takes nothin’.” Derek was washing his hands, and when he turned off the tap, he pointedly listened out for a drip that was no longer there. “Except these and a little elbow grease, I guess,” he gestured to the two tools he brought.

Penelope chimed in, “and a new washer.”

“And a new washer, yes.” Emily handed him a cup of coffee, and he dried his hands on his pants before taking it gratefully.

“Anything else troubling you about the house? Might as well offer more of my services since I’m already here.”

“What isn’t troubling me?” The words were more for her; a thought spoken aloud more so than an actual response. Still, Derek raised a brow.

“Bought more of a fixer-upper than you bargained for, Prentiss?”

“No, not that. It’s nothing. Well, actually, I did want to ask you about an exhaust fan in the bathroom?”

He stared at her for a moment, and in that moment she wished he wasn’t so good at his job as a profiler. “Emily. Is there something more on your mind than the exhaust fan?”

She squirmed, catching her bottom lip between her teeth as she debated telling him. He pulled the trick of staying quiet, patiently waiting for her to fill the growing silence.

“Promise you won’t laugh at me?” She felt so much more exposed sharing this with Derek than she did Penelope, but her discomfort was eased when Penelope nodded encouragingly.

There was a smile in his eyes when she described walking around the house with the light/nightstick, and he gave it an approving glance when she showed him. But he was concerned she felt unsafe in her own home.

“Show me your carbon monoxide detector.”

“My what?”

He was appalled.

While she was ushering her two guests out her front door, Derek was repeating himself about her newly installed CO detector.

“And remember that it can take a few hours for it to go off depending on the buildup. I installed a couple just to be safe. If they go off, call me again. If they don’t go off…”

Penelope patted his cheek before turning to Emily.

“If they don’t go off, invite us back next weekend so our hunk of delicious and protective muscle can install security cameras instead.”

“Guys, really thank you. Although I can’t see how someone would be getting into my apartment for this. Maybe I’m just being really forgetful.” The words were weak, and the other two looked at her knowingly.

“We’re here to help. Or rather, he’s here to help,” Penelope looped her arm around Derek’s, leaning her head against him. “And I’m here for moral support and oogling.”

“Is oogling and house maintenance all I’m good for?”

“Who said I was oogling you, sweet thing?” The lascivious wink Penelope gave Emily would provide sufficient distraction for the brunette tonight.

“Wait, I’m doing this hard work and I’m not even being oogled?” Derek looked a little offended, and Emily shrugged before responding.

“Sucks to suck. Thanks for today guys, I mean it.” She shut the door to the two of them laughing, and she felt lighter than she had in weeks.

When the alarms didn’t go off later than night, or even in the following days, Emily didn’t know how to feel about it.

The bonus was that she didn’t have CO poisoning to worry about. The negative was that it meant she had some other, mysterious thing to worry about instead. One that didn’t have a clear solution.

She was tired of feeling afraid in her own house, though. Her fear grew to hold a sharper edge.

Now, when the soap dish moved to the other side of the bathroom sink, or the cutlery sorted itself into different compartments that she knew wasn't done by her own hand, she felt the same thrill of fear but it now featured a side of annoyance.

"This is my house now, you haunting creep. I'll put things where I want and they'll stay there, you get me?"

She felt foolish, after her angry chastising, when an empty silence was her sole response. She gripped the bench, steeling herself and reaffirming she was the only person in this house, dead or alive, and she'd damn well act like it.

She might also, she thought, consider buying elsewhere.

-

Turning off the shower, Emily wondered if Derek really would come over again to install an exhaust fan in her bathroom. She’d never thought about them before outside of finding them noisy. Now though, she frowned at the thick fog of steam in the bathroom as echoes of ‘mould build-up’ in Derek’s voice bounced around her head. She hadn’t wanted to open the window as it’d let in bugs.

“Maybe I’ll get him to put in a fly screen while he’s here.” She stepped in front of the counter, an annoyed huff following her words when she saw she’d forgotten to bring in her clothes. The heat of the water seemed to have eased her muscles out of the day’s aches, and she rolled her shoulders while walking out to her closet.

Pyjamas on, she walked into the kitchen to turn on the kettle for a tea before circling back to the ensuite, then suddenly clutched the towel she meant to hang up to her chest when she pushed open the door.

        GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, SQUATTER

She pulled the door shut with a slam, beginning to push a chair beneath the handle to hold it closed before she remembered it opened in the wrong direction for that.

-

Emily awoke after not nearly enough sleep, but was still excited for a day off. Not because she had plans of going out, but staying in. She’d said she needed to unpack and sort out the house still, and while that was true, she had no intentions of unpacking on her first day off.

After opening the fridge, she let out a groan. There were no left-overs she could have for breakfast, and she’d be mad about it if the takeout last night hadn’t been so good.

Well, she could still be a little mad about it.

Turning to pick up her keys from the end of the bunch, she stopped in her tracks when she saw the takeout container -rinsed, now- sitting atop the recycling that had built up. Bewildering her further, was the little sticky note prominently left on the top.

WHILE A LOT OF PLASTIC ISN’T RECYCLABLE, THIS ONE IS. I’LL THANK YOU IN ADVANCE FOR DISPOSING OF THINGS PROPERLY GOING FORWARD.

She let out a surprised, half scared laugh, not much more than a glorified huff of air. Then, she laughed a bit more forcefully, a wave of indignance rolling over the building fear she could feel welling up in her chest.

“I’m going crazy. That’s what this is. I have carbon monoxide poisoning and the detectors missed it. Get out of my house!” She yelled the last bit, making herself jump at the vehemence of it.

“Actually, I was here first. You’re the intruder.”

She let out a shriek, stepping back to press her back against the fridge as she looked wildly around the space before her, needing a solid surface at her back to assuage at least a little bit of fear.

“Show yourself!”

“Your anger at your inability to see what’s before you shouldn’t be directed at me.”

“This is my house! I bought it, I’m paying a mortgage.”

“You got me there.” There was a resigned sigh, and squinting, Emily thought she could see the outline of a man on the other side of the kitchen bench. The longer she looked, the more defined he became. His hands were clasped before him, and he was looking down at them with a frown. She couldn’t quite see the details of him, the intricacies that would make him identifiable, but she could see enough to ensure she was thoroughly scared.

So scared that the world got quite dark around the edges, and she fell to the floor in a graceless heap.

“Emily! Emily, it’s okay! It’s okay! We’ll check the carbon monoxide detectors, and we’ll sage the house! We could burn some candles, spread some good intent, and I will be there with you every step of the way!” Emily was seated on the arm of Penelope’s couch, elbow resting on her crossed legs so her arm was propped up and allowing her to anxiously bite her thumbnail in comfort.

“Garcia, I-I saw him. Not all of him, or clear features, but I saw a strange, transparent man in my kitchen. I can’t go to work like this! Oh, I can’t go back there.”

“My beautiful badass, you have to go back there at some point. Even if you move, you have to pack, and move the packed boxes. An option that I fully support, but…”

“There’s a ‘but’ here?”

“But, did he have bad intentions? Did he feel evil?”

Emily’s hand dropped enough for Penelope to see her mouth fall open a bit, confusion creasing the brunette’s brows.

“He called me an intruder!” Her indignance was back.

“Well, I mean, maybe he,” she whispered, leaning in like she was sharing a dark secret. ”Maybe he died there.”

“Great!” Emily threw up her hands, “so I’ve got a dead man’s apartment and he’s mad about it? What am I supposed to do with that?” Penelope moved to stand beside her, rubbing the woman’s shoulders before wrapping her up in a comforting hug.

-

Penelope had sworn to secrecy; she was absolutely forbidden from telling Derek they were walking around her house, waving incense and thinking good yet uninviting thoughts for her unplanned roommate.

“Penelope, this is just making me sneeze.” She walked into the main bedroom where Penelope had wandered, talking still as she joined the other woman in the ensuite. “I dropped ash on the carpet, and I- Penelope?”

“Hey, Em. Uh, did you happen to write a little note for me about incense burning? You could have told me if you were that uncomfortable with it. I mean, I appreciate the non-combative approach, but it’s not your style.” Despite the joke in Penelope’s words, the tone was forced and brittle. Emily stepped up beside her, careful to hold the incense away, and bent to see a note on the counter.

WHILE OFFICIALS WITH THE U.S. FIRE ADMINISTRATION DON’T HAVE STATISTICS ON HOW MANY FIRE DEATHS ARE ATTRIBUTED TO THE BURNING OF INCENSE, THEY’VE SAID BURNING INCENSE IS VERY SIMILAR TO BURNING CANDLES, A PRACTICE THAT CAUSES ABOUT 18,000 FIRES A YEAR IN THE UNITED STATES. 

Emily and Pen were now both scared, but the note wasn’t threatening, and was also exactly what Emily would expect from a doddering old professor

Penelope nodded, as if affirming her thoughts in her head before sharing them with Emily. “See? He’s just protecting his- Your! Yours and his? House? Plus, also, he’s sharing fun facts!”

“Fun facts?” Emily picked up the note, tone taking on shrill notes and disbelief shaping her face as she pointedly shook the note in her hands. She did it exaggeratedly on purpose, to hide the unwilling, fear-borne shaking already there. “Fun facts from the U.S. Fire Administration about house fires?”

Penelope’s unwillingness to make eye-contact did nothing to help Emily, but she appreciated the effort.

-

Emily did start looking for a new house, but that dissatisfaction from the first time she was looking seemed to be back tenfold. Still, she wasn’t stupid enough to fight a ghost for a house. She’d seen enough scary movies to see that it never panned out well.

Still, when she and Penelope were next alone, the conversation swayed back to her house. Penny was sat at her computer, and Emily was spinning in half circles again on her stolen chair.

“He hasn’t like, he’s not- you know?” Penelope flapped her hands helplessly, unwilling to word the question she wanted to ask.

“You mean he hasn’t gone full Amityville Horror on me?” Penelope cringed at the wording, but nodded. Emily heaved a sigh, shaking her head. “No. Or well, I mean, he has asked me to leave the house, but I haven’t been violently ill, and there’s no swarm of flies.”

“Okay, well, that’s a great start. Does he seem malevolent at all?”

Emily laced her fingers together, planting her feet firmly as she looked down at her hands on her lap. She frowned in thought, then tilted her head to look up at Penelope.

“Actually? He seemed sad. Annoyed, yes, but mostly sad. If I wasn’t so scared I think I would have felt bad for him.”

Penelope tapped her manicured nails on the desk’s edge, and Emily didn’t have a good feeling about her expression -she was planning something.

“Hear me out.” Penelope uncrossed her legs and scooted her chair over to be in front of Emily. Emily watched the movement, marvelling that Penny went through the effort of nailart on her toenails. It made sense for her though, and they matched the orange heels that sparkled as Penelope used her feet to pull her chair closer to Emily. “I’m not saying ‘let’s have a seance’ -we’re not qualified for that even if I were saying that. But I am saying, why don’t the two of us try and talk to the guy?”

Emily couldn’t keep the scepticism off of her face, and Penelope clasped Emily’s hands in her own and gave them a comforting squeeze.

Emily ran her tongue over her teeth, giving herself a moment to think before firmly shooting the idea down. As she took a breath to respond, Penelope cut in again.

“Have you tried talking with him yet? Maybe he doesn’t-” she looked around like they weren’t already alone in her office, leaning in as she spoke quieter. “What if he doesn’t know that he’s dead?” Emily was a little lost, because Penelope was close enough to kiss right now, and it made the second half of what she was saying almost unimportant by comparison. At least for a moment.

In the end, she and Penelope had planned to try and have a chat with not Casper, the maybe not unfriendly ghost.

God, she was going to die like the girls in every scary movie she’d ever seen, but she couldn’t say no to an earnest Penelope.

Penelope had taken Emily’s hand, and the two of them were seated on Emily’s couch. She smoothed her thumb over Penny’s skin before breaking the quiet.

“Penelope,” Emily was hesitant to continue, and sheepishly kept her gaze from the other woman.

Penelope squinted at her tone, jutting her chin out. “I know my track record with secret keeping is spotty,” she dutifully ignored Emily’s small smile, “but I really didn’t tell anyone about this. Not that it was easy because this is straight up crazy movie stuff, but also…” She pushed up her glasses, and Emily didn’t fail to take note of the slight colouring of Penelope’s cheeks and neck. “Also, this feels like an us thing.” She paused, as if she was going to say more, but just squeezed Emily’s hand a moment instead as she looked away.

Emily nodded, bumping her shoulder to Penny’s in thanks. “So, how do we do this?”

Penelope laughed, “I would know this why?”

Emily shoved her shoulder then, scoffing. “This was your idea!”

“And this is your ghost! You decide!”

“It’s rude to talk about someone like they’re not there.” The man’s voice cleared their smiles away, their grip on each other’s hands tightening. “Also, I don’t think I’m a ghost.”

Despite her reservations, Emily squinted, leaning forward to peer at the armchair across the coffee table. Once more, the more she looked for him the more visible he became. Like she was willing him into sight.

She wanted to look at Penelope, to check on her, but she was worried if she looked away, he’d disappear again. Sure she could see him, but it was more like a suggestion of him. “Uh, hi. I’m Emily.” 

The words felt stupid to say, but how else are you meant to introduce yourself to a possible ghost in your house? No horror movie she’d seen had the ghost meet the new inhabitants like a roommate interview, so she had nothing to guide her.

Not that a horror movie should be a guide, and if it were, she should have moved already.

He seemed startled, and while she was sure that if she reached over that her hand would go right through him, he looked about ready to cry.

“Hi, I-I’m Spencer.” His breaths seemed shaky, his tone hopeful. “You can actually- you can see me? Hear me? Properly this time?”

Try as she might to keep that healthy fear around -fear keeps you alert and alive- he looked so much like victims she talks to at work that she smiled comfortingly at him, nodding. “Yeah, yeah I can see you. Spencer, who are you?”

He laughed in disbelief, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth. Emily felt Penelope lean forward, the woman beside her bringing their linked hands up to hug them to her chest.

Penelope spoke while it seemed Spencer was trying to get control of his emotions. “Sweetheart, how long have you been alone like this for?”

He shook his head in response, a few false starts with his words before he could properly respond. “I don’t know. I-I just,” he sighed, shrugging. He wiped at his eyes, lips pressed together while he thought. “I woke up, I think, some time ago. And- and I couldn’t-.” He leaned forward, leg bouncing as he rubbed his hands together.

It looked like thinking of how he got the way he did was stressing him out, so Emily tried to change the subject at least a little. She didn’t think she could handle a stressed-out maybe-ghost.

“However this happened, and however long ago it happened, it seems like we’re cohabitating now.”

He nodded, frowning a little. “Guess you can’t really give up your house for a- a spectre.”

Emily smiled, the kind of smile you give when something’s not funny, or even good, but you can’t do much else. “No, I don’t really think I can.”

“If it weren’t possibly detrimental to your very important job, your ability to sleep through alarms would be impressive.” Emily rolled her eyes and she leaned against the counter, the coffee machine working up the courage to even heat up, it seemed.

“Look, I didn’t get much sleep, alright? And it’s because of that very important job. Related topic, why did you get such a shit coffee machine?”

He scoffed. “I looked at the reviews online and watched videos about different machines, and this one seemed the best for my needs. There’s no waste from coffee pods, it doesn’t burn the coffee, and all the components are machine washable.”

Emily narrowed her eyes at him, not wanting to admit that this machine did indeed make some of the best coffee she’d had in a long time. “You know, it’s things like that, and your decor, that make me think you’re an old man.”

She thought she saw him press his lips together to hide a smile, shaking his head. “Researching expensive appliances to ensure they’ll give me what I want isn’t an old person thing. Surely.”

Emily held up a hand, frowning. “Hold on a minute; there’s not a computer here. Unless it’s packed away in the spare room?”

Spencer shook his head, a look of distaste seeming coming over him. Or maybe it was more of a feeling she picked up on. “No, I don’t have one.”

“You researched coffee machines on your phone?” While technically google became available on phones last year, she didn’t know anyone comfortably using it for research yet.

His distaste seemed to grow stronger, now mixed in with what Emily thought was actual disgust with hints of confusion. “What? No. I went to the library and used their computers. Phones can do that?”

Emily laughed, getting her mug from the coffee machine and holding it between her cold hands. “You really are an old guy, huh.”

He looked away, petulant. “No I’m not.”

“Cute. For an old guy.” She grinned at him on her way to her bedroom, getting ready for work with Spencer’s complaints about technology keeping her company.

She thinks she can believe him. He sounds young, younger than her even. But the house, his opinions on technology, and the brains on him? God, he could be Gideon’s age.

Hopefully, she’d be able to properly see him someday, rather than an almost tangible ghost.

-

Emily was sitting on the kitchen bench, the phone on loudspeaker beside her as she flipped through the fast-food menus she’d lifted from the cutlery drawer. They weren’t hers, but she didn’t think Spencer would mind her thumbing through them.

“Look, I’m not thrilled to be talking about work when I’m already home, but since it’s you? I’ll overlook it.” She smiled down at the phone when Penelope laughed.

“I just wanted to let you know that you might have to fly out tomorrow! I can come and see Spencer while you’re gone -if you’re gone- and look after the house.”

“Sometimes I think you’re just coming over to see Spencer and not me. Keep this up and I’ll get pouty.”

Penelope seemed to be considering her response, so Emily took a moment to read the Indian takeout menu in her hands. She jumped in surprise when she felt one of the menus beneath it in her hand get tugged out, and she must have made some sort of sound, because Penelope seemed concerned.

“Emily? Are you alright?”

“What? Uh, yeah. I think Spencer’s giving me dinner recommendations.”

“So that’s how it is, hm? You have the one and only, picturesque Penelope on the phone, but you’d rather some old brainiac take you out to dinner?”

Emily laughed, and she’s pretty sure she heard affronted noise from Spencer. She flapped the menus in the direction she thinks Spencer is, meanwhile cooing at Penelope.

“Aw, come on. It’s not like that, baby.” Even though they were joking around, she got a thrill at saying the words. “You’re the only one for me, you know that.”

“And don’t you forget it, dollface.” The two laughed, and that thrilled rush kept Emily feeling light after their call despite the fact that their unsub seemed to have crossed the state lines again, and she might be one of the people leaving to go after him. The whole unit wouldn’t be going, because there was still a relatively new crime scene close to home.

“Are you two dating?” The words seemed small, like something fragile held in careful hands.

She took a moment to get her head in the right space for responding; this seemed delicate all of a sudden. “No. But can you keep a secret?”

“Not only am I confident in my ability to keep secrets normally, but remember I’m currently not really uh, able to talk to many others?” 

Emily nodded. “Okay, point taken. We’re not dating, no. But I’d certainly like to. Why’s that?”

Silence answered her, but the more she peered into the space Spencer was, like before, the more visible he seemed to get. Not as much as he had previously, but there was a definite man-shape before her. Even with this limited sight, his shoulders seemed hunched. Burdened.

“Nothing. It’s just…”

“We’re both women?” She had a small smile. Once more, she seemed to feel his emotions rather than being able to parse them from an expression; hopeful yet troubled.

“Y-yeah. I mean, it’s not- well, it is common. The numbers are constantly changing, but the percentage of people identifying as things other than straight is growing based on more recent studies.”

“It is,” she tilted her head, friendly teasing in her tone, “you read that on the library computers?”

There was a sheepish laugh, and some of that troubled feeling seemed to bleed away. “Yeah, I did. I just. If you two started dating, I think I’d really like to see you happy like that.”

She felt the urge to hug him, and felt a pang of sadness upon realising that she may never be able to. Of course, if she’d thought about it earlier, she would have known that was the case from the beginning. When she started thinking of the fact that he might not feel any physical affection, friendly or more, she shook her head to clear it from her head.

“Thanks, I’d like that too. Changing to an equally important topic; takeout. Were you trying to tell me this place is better?”

Emily was laying on her back on the couch, and Spencer was sprawled over the armchair opposite her. It was late; she’d gotten back from work late, and had almost walked through Spencer in the kitchen. His corporealness seemed to depend on whether or not she was home for the most part, and how much they were interacting.

“Feel free to tell me to shut up, or mind my own business, but I have a question.” Emily had been debating on how much to ask Spencer. Was it invasive, or was it learning about a friend? Was Spencer friends with her because he wanted to be, or was it because he didn’t have much choice? Rather than continuing to overthink it, she figures she’d talk to the man himself.

“I’m not fond of how you’ve started, but yeah.”

She laughed. “Well, I wanted to ask about you. Like, when I can’t see you, are you still here? Or are you somewhere else?”

“I’m not too sure. Sometimes I’m here. But the times where I’m not,” he sighed. She could see that  he was fiddling with his clothes, but didn’t know if it was with buttons or a tie. “It’s like when you’re almost asleep. And when I do come back? It’s like when something startles you from that almost sleep.”

She turned to lay on her side, facing him. “Can you always pick up things, or are you more like Patrick Swayze in Ghost?”

“The end half of that sentence means nothing to me.”

They were grinning at each other; they’d yet to find an intersection in their movie interests.

He continued. “But going by the first half of what you said? No. Mostly when you’re here, and you mention me, or you talk to me. Then I can uh, interact with stuff around me. While you’re not here, I can’t always.”

“Partial Swayze confirmed. But while I’m not here, you normally aren’t either?”

“No, not normally.”

Next time Emily was away from home, anytime she talked about Spencer with Penny, or held thoughts of him in her mind, she took note of the time. When she was finally able to go back home, she asked him about it.

She was startled that he remembered the exact time, to the second even, but it checked out.

Emily started thinking about Spencer as often as she could to ensure that he was able to be in their house.

Emily brought up Spencer’s inability to manifest himself with Penelope not long after. It was troubling her, and she wanted to find some sort of resolution.

“Well maybe if we’re both thinking of him, it’ll help?”

Emily smiled, humming in agreement. “Yeah, I think so. And maybe uh, I was also thinking of doing something for me, that might benefit him.”

Penelope smiled knowingly. “Oh? What, prey tell, are you scheming?”

“Firstly, I don’t scheme.” She tried to look offended, but Penny knew better. “And secondly, I was thinking I might finally get a cat. I wanted to get one after I bough-” She was cut off but an excited squeal, and knew she would get the confirmation she was seeking.

“I was going to offer that I could visit while you’re on cases -which I’m still happy to do- but yes you should adopt a gorgeous little friend!”

“I bet that you’ll wanna go and visit now, just for my little cat. But I do want to ask for Spencer’s input as well.”

“Oh I hope he says yes.” Emily took in a deep breath, a little worried he’d say no.

After a brief debate, filled with facts and also warnings of illnesses cats can get or transmit, and the dangers they pose and that are posed to them, Emily and Spencer agreed on getting a cat. One that was already litter trained, and that would be strictly indoors.

Spencer was excited about the idea of being present in the home more with an extra set of eyes on him, and Emily was elated about finally getting a cat.

Emily came home feeling horrid. They’d followed up on what turned out to be false leads all day, and Derek going undercover at clubs and bars wasn’t ending up useful either. Really, they needed someone like Spencer on the team, since he seemed to fit the unsub’s type better.

Now hold on a fucking minute.

Emily paced outside the doorway, not wanting to be this ruffled when she went inside. She and Spencer hadn’t talked about how he got into his current state since they first sat down for a conversation. He grew anxious and unsure back then, frazzled.

If she were to ask him about it now, it’d be like conducting an interview, like a full cognitive interview, with a victim. Suddenly, she was very sure that Spencer was linked to their case.

But she’d also seen the photos of the victim’s what felt like a hundred times and definitely none of them were Spencer.

She leaned against the door and pressed her fingers to her temples.

“I may not be able to leave the house, but I can feel you thinking so hard about me right now.” Spencer’s voice from the other side of the door startled a laugh out of her. She headed in then, expression carefully guarded.

“You can, huh?”

“Yeah. And thank you, for thinking of me more often. I’m in the house more, and I-, I like it.”

Her expression softened, and she set her bag down on the kitchen counter. “I’m glad, I got Penelope onto it as well.”

“I imagine Penelope’s to credit for my being here nearly every hour on the hour, during standard waking hours?” 

Emily laughed, nodding. “Probably; I was wondering why she had an alarm going off so often.”

Emily felt a wave of gratefulness come from him, with a sure accompaniment of surprise, and she smiled at the shape of Spencer. “She’s really doing that just for me?”

“There’s not a lot our Penelope wouldn’t do for those she likes.”

The contentment coming from him soothed her anxieties about her sudden, but very late, realisation.

While she made her way to the fridge, sniffing out leftovers for an easy dinner, she called out to Spencer. “Maybe once I get time to get a cat, you won’t be so lonely in the house you’re present in.”

“Since I’m only really here when you two are thinking of me, it’s a little hard to feel lonely anymore.” Emily’s heart hurt. “But it would be nice to have something to do with my time other than pace around.”

Emily lifted her head in sudden surprise, and thoroughly hit it on the fridge since she’d been poking around in it for food. “What?” She rubbed at her head, cursing under her breath before continuing. “What do you mean? Can’t you, you know, interact with stuff sometimes? Since we’re thinking of you a lot and often?”

While she wasn’t looking at him, she knew what he’d be doing; that sheepish shrug. ‘I was inconvenienced but I didn’t want to tell you, so that you wouldn’t be inconvenienced either’.

She was going to bring him to the physical realm just so she could murder him for that.

“I feel like you’re thinking malicious things about me.”

“Don’t be silly.” She knew she didn’t sound convincing. It was too hard with her head hurting and her heart aching and she was so stupid.

“Spencer, have you just been wandering around the house, every hour on the hour, for days, without telling me that you couldn’t do anything?”

She turned then, to watch him tidy up the too often used takeout menus and placing them beside the too often empty fruit bowl.

She brought her hands together like she was going to pray -for the ability to slap a ghost going by her current thoughts- and pressed her fingers to her lips. After taking a deep, calming breath, she lowered her hands.

“Spencer, you’re an idiot. You’re a big brain, don’t get me wrong, but you’re an idiot.”

If she couldn’t feel that he was doing that shy little smile he does, he’d look insulted, she thought.

He tapped his fingers on the counter, the action noiseless. “I didn’t want to trouble you. It seemed trivial.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Permission to go through your boxes, Spence?”

“Permission granted?”

“With me, old man.” The nearly habitual ‘I’m not old’ followed her into the spare room, and she started pushing gently at the boxes in there until she found the heaviest one. “This one has your books in it, right?”

“Some of them, yeah. Why’s that?”

In answer, she opened the box and started pulling out the books in it, filling her arms with them before heading back out to the living room. “Is it that you can’t move anything, or that you can move little things, what’s the deal here? Because before I knew to think of you, you were shifting stuff around. And scaring the living daylights out of me, might I add.”

“You might add that, yeah.” 

She’d flick his ear if she could.

He was grinning, she knew, when he added, “I can sort of, sometimes, move little things. My guess is that it’s based on how focused you are on me when you’re out of the house.”

“This would be easier if you weren’t allergic to technology, I think.” She started leaving the books around the house, covers opened and held that way by whatever she could find; a paperweight on one, remote on another, and on the coffee table she left multiple books open; she opened each one, placing the next on the pulled back cover to keep them all open.

After placing them around the house, she smiled at Spencer. It wasn’t much, but it would leave him with something to do, and meant he’d have to focus less on lifting some of the heavier books. Come to think of it, most of them were heavy books.

He really was an old professor; he had to be.

“You think you’d be able to just turn the pages if you didn’t have to lift the books themselves?”

Again, that wave of surprised gratefulness hit her, and again she was sad at not being able to even grip his shoulder like Derek does her to give comfort.

His voice was the same quiet hers is when she thinks she might cry. “Yeah, I think I could.”

-

Penelope, while happy that her hourly Spencer Thoughts alarm was helping, was devastated that he wasn’t able to do much in the house alone. She commended Emily’s idea of leaving out the books for him, but said she’d be coming over to lend something of hers to Spencer.

Later that week, when they could plan it with work, Penelope brought herself, a dinner to share with Emily, and her gift for Spencer over.

Emily saw that Penelope moved to kiss each of Spencer’s cheeks in greeting. She stayed a hair away from the form of him; no one liked accidentally moving through Spencer, but he seemed to light up at it. Again, her heart ached.

Penelope put down the bag with their dinner in it, and Emily smiled when she realised what it was; it was from the restaurant Spencer had recommended while she and Penelope were on the phone and she was going through the menus. She’d been there a few times since and he was right, it was one of the best. She’d even since taken Penelope there, and Spencer seemed to like that they took his recommendations seriously.

Now that Penelope had only the gift in her arms, she turned her bright grin on Spencer. “While I know you’re not always able to manipulate your surroundings, I did wrap this. I can’t help who I am; I love wrapping presents. That said, I can unwrap it for you if you need.”

Emily was sure that Penelope could feel the glee coming from Spencer now, which only heightened after Penny set down the present - he was able to unwrap it.

He laughed, “a CD player?”

Penny nodded emphatically, taking it upon herself to plug it in as she talked. “Yes! So that you can put on music, or audiobooks, while we’re out! Emily told me about you silently moping about while no one’s here.” She waved an admonishing finger at him. “I get it; Gideon wasn’t overly active, and neither is Rossi when they’re left to their own devices, but you still need entertainment, stimulation, while you’re here alone.”

“I’m grateful but Penelope, are the two people you just mentioned older?”

She paused, surprised. “Yeah, hun, why’s that?”

Emily snorted at Spencer’s indignant ‘I’m not old!’ that followed. 

Penny looked mortified and cast an accusing glare at Emily. “Emily! You lied to me!”

Emily held up her hands, in surrender or as a placating gesture she wasn’t sure. “Hey now! What else am I meant to think? He doesn’t like technology, his home is styled like an old person, and his clothes consist of vests, sweaters, and neckties!”

Penelope smacked her shoulder, then turned to Spencer. “Sweetheart, how old are you?”

“27.”

“A baby!” 

Penelope’s aggrieved cry made Emily laugh. “What do you mean, ‘a baby’? He’s only four years younger than you.”

Penelope’s glare was back on her, and Emily shut up again.

Spencer was trying not to sound amused, “I’m not that young.”

Penny waved a hand at Emily before turning her attention back on Spencer. “No honey, you’re not. But you’re certainly younger than someone had lead me to believe.” She clapped her hands over her mouth then, and looked between the CD player and Spencer. “Oh no! Because somebody lied about your age -I went to Hotch and Rossi for music recommendations.”

Spencer laughed, and crouched down in front of the CD player. “I think that’s okay, I’m not too fond of more recent music. The neighbour plays the radio sometimes and I’m not that interested.”

Penny seemed to light back up and moved to sit on the ground beside Spencer. “Well, in that case!”

Emily left the two to talk about Penny’s multi-disc CD player (“And you don’t have to worry about not being able to handle discs all the time!”) as she moved the food onto plates in the kitchen, the house feeling more like a home in recent days than it had before. Than any house had before, she thought.

Emily would remember that night for the rest of her days; Penny had pulled the both of them into dancing to the older music. Spencer was hesitant, but after seeing the two women do silly moves together and laughing, he’d joined in.

Emily also noticed that that night, Spencer’s form was more substantial than it ever had been; he really did look youthful, even if still blurred.

After Emily had learned just how quickly Spencer could read -and subsequently getting mad at him again for not saying anything- she asked to rifle through his belongings again to get more out for him.

She took more time to look at them this time, and was surprised to see some in Russian. Rather than saying anything to him directly, she got Penelope’s help in looking for some Russian movies the two thought Spencer may like.

Sitting down in blankets on the couch, the two ended up watching some together, Emily’s contentedness doubled by being able to feel the same emotion coming from Spencer as well.

-

The day Emily brought home Sergio, Penelope was crushed she was caught at work assisting another department and couldn’t join in. Emily had promised many cat sitting nights to ease Penny’s expression down to just a pout. Still, while she was sad Penelope couldn’t be there as planned, she did want more of the focus on Spencer, so it helped her feel a little better about it.

She let out the slinky little thing in the laundry; the litter, food, and some water in there as it adjusted to the new environment. She’d made sure to spend some time with it before taking him on the trip home, so the friendly cat warmed up to her at least a bit before being brought here.

“Spence, come say hello.”

He was behind her in a moment, having come through the closed door silently.

“What if he hates me?” Having not heard Spencer come in, the cat startled. Ears flat and tail flicking, it inspected him for a long minute.

“Think you’re up to holding treats right now?”

“I hope so.”

She shook the little bag she’d been given to get the cat’s attention before tipping a couple into Spencer’s waiting hand. They both released a breath when the treats landed on his hand instead of falling through to the floor.

He knelt down, holding his palm out and flat for the cat to come up when it was ready.

“I forgot to tell you, but a lot of animals don’t seem to like me.”

“Get that negative attitude outta here; animals pick up on it. Sergio will love you and help to keep you present at home, and you can keep him company while I’m out on cases.”

Spencer laughed, his reaction reserved as he tried to look inviting to what was not much more than a kitten.

“Sergio?”

“Yeah, thought of it just now. But he looks like a Sergio, doesn’t he?”

Considering the cat for only another moment, Spencer nodded. “Yeah, he does.” After that, Sergio deigned Spencer good enough to accept treats from, the feeling of his whiskers ticking Spencer’s hand melting away any remaining fear he had.

-

Spencer seemed happy, and less transparent, since they welcomed Sergio into the house. Penelope was also there more often, and almost each time she came with some sort of treat for Sergio, as well.

Between one of Penelope’s visits and the next, Emily brought up with her the suspicion that Spencer was linked to their current case.

“But we haven’t seen any Spencers, let alone our Spencer, in any case notes.” Emily smiled at the ‘our Spencer’ Penelope said without hesitation, and nodded along.

“Still, I can’t shake this feeling. The house was on the market by the time we were on the case, meaning that- that something happened to Spencer earlier. Possibly before the unsub got enough practice in to be on our radar. There would have been time between when the listing was put up, and when whatever caused the house to,” she paused, pressing her thumb into the palm of her other hand as she stumbled around wording she didn’t want to use. “Not be in his hands anymore.”

Penny fretted, fingers drumming on her desk as she shook her head. “I don’t want to think of our sweet boy being tangled up in this, this horrible mess.”

“I know.” She got up from her chair to place her hands on Penelope’s shoulders, kneading slightly. It helped her with her nervous energy, and seemed to help ground Penny at the same time. “I hate the thought of it, but I can’t overlook it. What if it helps us with the current case?”

Penelope nodded, rubbing her hands together before placing them back down at her keyboard. “Okay, that’s a good point. Have you spoken to him about it?”

Guilt had found its way into Emily’s chest; she’d delayed asking only because she felt she knew Spencer wouldn’t react well. Like when they’d first been asking him.

“Not yet. But Pen?” The other woman turned in her seat to look up at Emily, and Emily prepared for her next words. “I don’t want to pry, and I don’t want you to pry, but-”

“You want me to find out who our sweet boy is?” Emily nodded and Penelope seemed to recoil from her keyboard. “It feels preemptively icky to poke into his life when he may not want us to.”

“I know,” when Penelope turned back to facing her computer, Emily leaned to place her chin on the top of Penelope’s head. “But I’d feel a lot worse if we didn’t look down this avenue and it cost more lives.”

Penelope let out an uncomfortable groan before motioning for Emily to leave.

“You’re right, and I normally love when you’re right, but I don’t like this. Don’t watch me snoop on our ghostly brain; it’ll make it worse. I’ll do it as soon as I can while working on the current case.”

Emily turned her head to press her cheek to Penelope’s hair, wishing she’d used her lips instead, then left the room.

-

Sitting in the back of the car on the way to a scene, Emily was regretting not saying yes to staying behind at the office. Hotch was driving, and also pretending like he wasn’t smiling, while Derek was grilling her unnecessarily.

“Come on now, I know you got some poor man hook, line, and sinker. You’re too eager to leave the office, and you’re actually early most days instead of late.”

“I don’t know if you’re aware, Morgan, but those two seem conflicting. Wouldn’t I be in late if I had someone taking up my free time like that?”

He held up his pointer finger, nodding. “See now that’s what would normally happen. But everyone knows you’re not a morning person. You’re too awake by the time you reach the office these days, and that’s got to be somebody else’s doing.”

She frowned at him, but thought better than to wish he wasn’t quite so good at his job. She frowned more when she noticed Hotch nodding along, as if saying ‘good work, Derek, we hadn’t considered that possibility’.

“I’m not in a relationship with some poor man, maybe I just value my time more than before.”

Derek turned in his seat, and Emily wanted to wipe that shit-eating grin off his face. “Okay, alright. Then you’ve got some sweet ladylove, don’t you?”

Again with Hotch’s agreeing nod. ‘Good deduction, Derek, we didn’t think of that as an option’.

Without meaning to, the image of Penelope relaxed and happy while sprawled out on her couch came to mind. On the heels of that was the memory of Penelope dancing along to Paul Anka in her living room with her and Spencer.

She was mortified to see Derek’s smug face when she came back to the present, and kicked the back of his chair.

In the voice Emily thought of as his ‘tired dad voice’, Hotch seemed to recite, “Now now, kids, if you fight in the car I’ll turn it around and we’ll all go right back home.”

Her only consolation was that it was Hotch hiding a small smile in the driver’s seat and not Rossi; she’d be pestered by two children at heart otherwise.

She kicked the back of Derek’s chair again for good measure, eliciting a laugh from him.

-

Emily noticed that Spencer is a tactile person. They spoke about it, and he said he wasn’t normally with touching other people, but for things he guessed he might be. He turns his nose up at Penelope’s computer when she brings it unless it’s showing the TV show they’re watching. He likes when they use his DVDs instead of Penelope pirating things.

“I thought you’d be against that given you work as a tech analyst for the FBI. Aren’t you catching wrongdoers with your computer skills?” He gestured to her hard drive of shows and movies that they’d been using.

“Spencer, my sweet baby genius, how do you think I got this job?” Spencer was horrified.

He loves Emily reading things out to him instead of audio books, but makes an exception for ones on CD that she hires from the library for him. She borrows from the library for when she’s away on cases so he has another way to read more when home alone, and they all go into Penny’s CD player.

After one of Penelope’s visits, she learns that Emily has been reading to Spencer, and immediately wants to be involved.

She reads the sci-fi Emily teases the two about while Emily’s away, and again, Spencer seems more there than he has before.

-

While she loved having the time she did with Spencer and Penelope, and was resistant to the thought of changing it, she felt selfish. She should want more people meeting and befriending Spencer for his sake, and it felt wrong keeping a secret so big from the team.

As a result, she made a decision she was scared she’d back out of. Before she could overthink it, she was thinking hard of Spencer and calling her home phone.

When it was answered, her victorious feeling squelched a little of the dissatisfaction she was forcefully trying to shove away.

“Spencer?”

“Emily! I didn’t know if I should answer or not, but since, well, I knew you were thinking of me, it seemed logical.”

“Look at that brain, hard at work.” She grinned, and heard his quiet scoff in response. “Look, I called you for a reason.”

“I put my big brain hard at work and guessed that too, did you know?”

“Alright, smart-arse,” she laughed, “I don’t know how you’ll respond to this question though.”

“Again, not fond of how you’ve started, but you can ask.” She thought she could hear the documentary she’d left in the dvd player for him in the background, and it eased her nerves further.

Emily checked the hallway outside the empty room she’d found, making sure no one would overhear her. “I think I want you to meet another of my team members.”

She cringed at the following pause, rubbing the back of her neck with her free hand.

Spencer was just as hesitant as she thought he would be. “What if- I mean. You and Penelope know me already, but what if- I mean they might not believe you, or if they do, they might think I’m a threat.”

Emily’s brows rose, hearing her own fears repeated back to her didn’t help. She nodded, then realised Spencer couldn’t see her. “He may do, but I don’t think it’ll take long for him to come around. He has a soft-spot for Penelope, and she adores you. Actually; you may remember him. It’s Derek, he came to the house and fixed the leaky tap?”

Again, there was a pause, but Emily didn’t know the cause of it this time. “Spencer?”

“Uh, y-yeah, I, I think um, I remember him.”

She felt her lips curve into a grin, and she bit her tongue for a moment before caving into the urge. “Oh, you remember him, huh? I don’t actually remember you being present in the house, so does that mean you were just watching him?”

“We weren’t talking at that point.” His response was so quick she couldn’t hold back a laugh. She knew that if she were there, she would feel shy embarrassment oozing off of him.

“Maybe you remember Penelope’s wording from that day; she and I might have been oogling each other, were you oogling him?”

“If you want to tell him, I have minimal reservations about it. Thanks for the heads up. I’ll see you when you’re home.” Emily thought she was actually cackling when the call cut out.

-

“Alright, Prentiss. You’ve pulled me away from the action and I’m a little concerned.” His voice had surface-level teasing, but Derek really did look troubled. Her obvious nerves on display as they sat across from each other probably weren’t helping the situation.

“Derek, I’m going to share something that’s uh, well, it’s pretty out there.” She rubbed at her jaw, and he raised a brow then gestured for her to go on.

“Do you-” She sighed. She’d agonised over how to discuss this and wasn’t happy with anything she’d come up with. “Do you believe in the afterlife? In anything after someone dies?”

He looked thrown, but took a moment to think about his answer before replying. “How can we be expected to know what’s waiting for us? People who have been revived tell all sorts of stories, and the ones that leave permanently can’t tell what stories they may have. People in comas report different things as well, so I don’t think we can ever know. I like to believe there’s more for us on the good days, but on the bad days?” He shrugged, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his lap. “When I’m laid to rest, I want that to be final. So, I don’t know. What’s prompted such a question from you anyway? You’re deeply rooted in the tangible, aren’t you?”

“I used to think so.” He looked worried, but she didn’t want him to get too comfortable in thinking that that was the right emotion, so she switched tracks. “So, I’m not hiding a romantic relationship.”

He clapped his hands, sitting up straighter in his seat. “Think I got a little whiplash from that change. But okay, you are hiding a relationship then?” At her nod, he smoothed his hands over his lap. “Alright, go on.”

“I want to preface this with the fact that Penelope already knows and adores him.”

“I don’t like that you feel the need to preface this relationship with information, and I’m getting a bad feeling.” He leaned forward, putting a hand on her knee. “Emily, tell me what’s going on.”

When she carded her fingers through her hair, he gave her knee an encouraging squeeze. “There’s a man living at the apartment with me. Well, he’s there with me, but I’m not sure he’s living there.”

“What the fuck, Emily, do you mean?”

She rushed to reassure him, placing a hand over his on her knee. “It’s- he’s like a ghost? We’re not sure.”

Disbelief creased his eyebrows, and started looking a bit like anger. Emily bit her lip.

“Emily, I don’t know how you expect me to react to this. But you’re not joking, are you?”

She shook her head, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I don’t know how I expected you to react, either. I got the wiggins when I first met him. I started looking for a new house, Derek.”

He stood up, throwing his hands in the air before bringing one of them to rest on the top of his head. As if he was physically pushing down this shocked anger. “You’re telling me you bought a house with a goddamn ghost in it, realised, then didn’t move out as soon as you could? Are the batteries still in those CO detectors I installed?”

She tried not to look offended. “Would it help if I got Penelope in here?”

The hand on his head closed into a fist. “So both you and Garcia are possibly in danger dealing with a haunting? That’s what it seems like you’re saying to me.”

“Haunting has negative connotations, I’m not sure it’s the right word to use. It’s- it’s more like he’s- we’re cohabitating.” She brought her hands together, lacing her fingers tightly as she struggled to give an apt description of the Spencer Situation.

“If I had any hair, it’d be grey right now.”

“Would you come and meet him? He’s just a kid, and he’s really sweet.”

“I thought you said it was a man?”

She waved a hand, sitting back in her seat now that Derek’s protective anger seemed to have subsided at least a little. “I mean, he is a grown man. But, you’ll understand when you see him. He’s almost thirty, but, you’ll get it.”

“I’m gonna die in a modern day haunting and you’re going to be the reason.”

“That’s the spirit.” She got up and patted his shoulder, hoping he knew she was thankful he didn’t call her batty right from the start.

They’d arranged it so Penny and Emily were already at the house, sitting with Spencer to try and help with his anxiety before Derek showed up. After a little wheedling from Emily, he was also bringing things to install an exhaust fan.

Spencer wasn’t leaving any steamed up mirror messages anymore, but Derek had scared her about mould build-up in a humid room now anyway.

When there was a knock at the door, all three of them seemed to jump in their seats despite the fact that they were expecting it; Derek was right on time.

Despite the fact that Penny, Emily, and now Derek were very conscious of Spencer, he seemed a little more faded than usual. His leg was back to bouncing, and Emily turned to face him fully.

“Spencer, whatever happens, he won’t try and hurt you.”

Penelope nodded, “And we wouldn’t let him even if he tried.”

He let out a stressed little laugh, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. “It’s not like he could if he wanted to. Can’t touch people, remember?” He had his hands pressed together between his thighs, stopping himself from gesturing as much as he usually did when nervous.

Not knowing how to respond, Emily inclined her head before getting up to open the door.

If someone had told her before buying the house that she’d be introducing Derek to her stressed out ghost friend and roommate not too long later, she’d have thought they had CO poisoning.

-

The meeting did not go well.

Derek’s fear after actually seeing a see-through Spencer translated into anger, and Spencer vanished.

While Penelope cried and looked around the house for him, Emily rounded on Derek.

“I invited you here to meet him! Not to brandish your fear at the unknown as anger like a weapon! He is a poor, helpless man that Penelope and I are trying to help!” She gestured at the empty spot on the couch Spencer was just in. She was fearful that with him disappearing like that he may not come back. The fear compounded her anger.

“Prentiss, are you serious? It’s great that the two of you are well-meaning. That you’re so willing to help those in need, and I love that about you two, I really mean it.” He pointed to the same, empty spot on the couch she did. “But you just showed me a real, actual ghost, that has been around you and Garcia for god knows how long, and expect me to be good with that?”

“Yes, actually, I did. How stupid of me. How stupid of me to think you would trust me.”

“You two could have been in danger. Danger we haven’t dealt with before. For god’s sake, Emily, he’s a fucking ghost!”

“You think I don’t know that already? Do you seriously think that I would leave myself in danger, for months, if I thought Spencer was dangerous?”

“We put ourselves in danger every day for this job. And you hide so much about who you are, what am I meant to think about you in a situation like this?”

Her breaths quickened. Fear, outrage, betrayal; they made her eyes sting and her voice quieting and stony. “You think that I would put Penelope in danger? You may think I’m reckless with my own life, but hers? Get out.”

“Emily, you have to understand, I-”

“I don’t have to anything! Get out!”

Both their chests were heaving, and both were holding back from saying more, or yelling more, but barely.

Penelope came back after her search of all the rooms, hands swiping at the tears in her eyes as she looked between the two.

“No more yelling, please.” Her voice cracked, and Emily thought she might scream instead.

Derek lifted his hand and put it back down in an aborted move towards Penelope. “Garcia…”

“Don’t. He’s gone now, and the way I see it? It’s your fault.” Derek recoiled like he’d been slapped.

“Penelope.” His voice was hurt now, and Penny clenched her hands.

“I mean it, Derek. He’s so sweet, and he’s so harmless, and he’s so fragile. And he’s never just, gone like this. And unless, and until, he comes back? I don’t think I can look at you without thinking some really hurtful things.”

Derek’s eyes took on a heartbroken sheen Emily hadn’t seen before. While she couldn’t imagine the pain of Penelope saying something like that to her, she knew it had to be tearing him apart.

All the same, she gestured to the door.

“You’re not welcome here.”

Penelope stayed over that night, and fell asleep crying in Emily’s arms.

-

The tension at work was off the charts, but all three remained tight lipped about the cause.

While they knew that sooner or later, Hotch would pull them into a room and demand an explanation, they could delay that happening as long as they didn’t let it impact the quality of the work they were doing.

There were well-meaning prods from Rossi to all three; Derek responded with anger, Penelope with sadness, and Emily with cold indifference.

Emily thought she might actually get fired due to being the perceived cause of a serious argument in the team where she was the newest member.

And it only made her anger at Derek worse.

Every night that she had to go home to her now achingly empty house, her resentment built up a little more.

Every day, she looked for little signs of Spencer. Like when she’d first moved in. She started putting recycling in the rubbish bin just to see if she’d get a passive-aggressive little note.

Penelope came over once to find her crying over the takeout menus with Sergio purring on her lap.

She was sick of it.

Sick of her empty home. Their empty home. Of seeing concerned glances from Hotch, JJ, and Rossi. Sick of seeing Derek’s guilty anger every day. And broken over seeing Penelope dealing with the loss of their friend.

She started reading his books aloud. She’d sit on the couch, reading them aloud and commenting on things like he was there. She’d talk in the house like he was listening. Point out funny positions she found Sergio in like Spencer was right there and able to see.

When that wasn’t working, since she felt she was already on the way to being seen as losing her mind, she figured she might meditate. It really wasn’t her thing.

She sat down on the floor of the living room, legs crossed and eyes closed, and thought about him.

She tried to think of nothing but him being in the house. From right when she first moved in up until the day he left. She was frowning, and could feel she was crying, and her legs were cramping, but she just dug her nails into her legs, gritted her teeth, and kept going.

“I don’t know why you’d sit on the floor and look so uncomfortable when there’s three chairs right nearby.”

Her eyes flew open, and she stood up so fast on cramped legs that she almost fell right back to the ground.

“Spencer! Jesus, where did you go?” She moved as if to hug him, pulling back at the last minute and wrapping her arms around herself instead.

He stood before her, hands in his pockets and shoulders hunched, with that silly little smile and overwhelming feelings coming off him in waves.

He shrugged, looking at his feet as his hair fell into his eyes. Hazel eyes, she realised. The image of him was so clear now it was like he was actually, physically there. No longer a suggestion, but a full person right there.

“I can see you. I can really see you.”

“Took you long enough.” She laughed, a sob escaping at the same time as she brought her hands up to her face, wiping at her tears.

“I have to tell Penelope, she’s been distraught.”

“Just Penelope?” He grinned, tilting his head to look closer at her.

“Yeah, just Penelope. I liked having the space all to myself, actually.”

Spencer glanced around the room; his belongings strewn about like she was going to summon him with them. “Yeah, looks that way.”

“I’m afraid if I stop looking at you, you’ll disappear again.”

“I hope not.”

“How did you come back?”

He cast his gaze around again, and Emily felt a little shyness from him. “I’m not really sure. It’s like, I was back in that almost-dream state. It was dark, and I feel like my ears were ringing? Beeping? But I think I could hear you. Did you read to me in Russian?”

“I tried.”

“Your Russian is getting better.”

She let out another sobbed laugh, stepping closer to him. She couldn’t stop staring; he seemed actually tangible and she couldn’t get over it.

He lifted a hand, almost bringing it to her face like he was going to wipe away tears, but closed his fist and let it hang between them instead. “The more you spoke to me, the more it felt like I was returning. I-I don’t know how to explain it. You were like a candle in a dark room, burning brighter every time you spoke to me. And then just before, it was like being, being suddenly yanked into, well, being.”

Without thinking the action through, Emily lifted her hand to hold it near his cheek, like when Penelope kissed his cheeks in greeting. Her breath caught when he felt solid. Not warm or cold, which was odd, but there.

Shock widened both their eyes, and they quickly pulled each other into a tight hug. Hands fisted in clothing like it was the only thing holding Spencer in place, and Emily was torn between elation that she could actually hold him and fear that if she stopped he’d be gone.

“I really, really need to call Penelope.” The words were muffled in his shoulder, but he nodded.

“I’d really like that.”

“You’re so tall. Have you always been this tall?”

“No. When I was born I was just as tall as a baby.”

She laughed, hitting his shoulder through blurred vision. “You idiot.”

“You love me.”

“I do.” She pulled back and took his hand in hers, her grip uncomfortably tight but he wasn’t fighting it. He revelled in the thought of seeing the impression of her fingers when she did let go; he was tangible.

She found it difficult to fish through her bag, get her phone, and call Penelope while trying to keep her eyes on him. But if she looked away and he disappeared, especially before Penelope got here? She really would break.

He laughed as he watched her, helping a little after she hit his shoulder again.

“Why are you smiling more each time I hit you?” She was grinning, and he shrugged.

“It’s nice that I can actually feel it.”

“Pft, masochist.” His response was cut off by Penelope answering her phone.

“Penelope, he’s back. Get over here immediately.”

“Oh god, I’m coming.”

They sat on the couch while they waited, and it felt surreal for Spencer to be correcting her on Russian grammar while they waited the 15 minutes it took for Penelope to get there.

She had a key, and didn’t hesitate to let herself in.

The first time Emily took her eyes off of Spencer, it was to see the relief and joy in Penelope’s eyes and she squeezed Spencer in a crushing hug.

They were all here, and whole, and Emily thought that finally, she might be able to forgive Derek only a little bit.

-

Emily and Penelope realise that this is the first time they’ve seen Spencer sleeping. Neither of them feel like they’re even capable of sleeping, which will really wreck them for work the next day.

“Hey Em, I know it’s late, but I was able to-” Penelope looks at Spencer, her whisper not even causing him to stir. “I was able to look into him.”

Emily lifted her head. The three were crammed in on Emily’s bed, but Emily and Penelope had wiggled up a little after Spencer fell asleep so they could see each other and talk.

Emily felt her body go rigid, not knowing what to expect. “What did you find?”

“Him. I found him.”

Emily brought her hand up to cover her mouth, making sure she didn’t wake Spencer with any startled noises. She needed to know what Penelope did immediately, but at the same time, was scared of what she might learn.

Penelope’s fingers were moving through Spencer’s hair. “He’s alive.”

Emily closed her eyes, tears of relief falling as she let out a shaky breath. “Thank god. Where?”

“He’s in a coma, in hospital. Not even a twenty minute drive from work.”

“Twenty minute like how Derek drives, or like how Rossi drives?” Hurt flashes over Penelope’s expression just as Emily realises what she’s said.

“We can maybe start to forgive him, now.”

Emily nods, eyes dropping to the peacefully sleeping Spencer between them. “I was thinking that, but it won’t be easy. For me, at least.”

“I get it.” Penelope nods, wetting her lips before continuing. “But that reaction, however bad, came from a good place. He was worried. He was scared for us.”

Emily clenched her jaw. “I know. But the lack of trust? The thought that, not only would I put myself in that much danger, but that-” She felt the angry crease in her brows, and her fingers tightened into a fist at her chest. “That he thought I would put you in danger having you here so often with Spencer? Pen, I wanted to hurt him just for thinking I might do that, let alone for how Spencer-” She cut herself off, closing her eyes to take a deep breath.

“His name is Spencer Reid, you know. It suits him, I think.”

Penelope graciously ignored Emily’s sniffling, and how she wiped at her eyes again. “Yeah, it suits him.”

“We could go and see him tomorrow?”

“I’d like that.”

Penelope looked a little uncomfortable then, and Emily held her gaze until the blonde continued.

“We should of course go there as his friends, but… I think you need to go there in an official capacity, too.”

“Oh.” Penelope nodded at Emily’s quiet, hurt ‘oh’.

“Hotch, you’re not serious.”

The stern glare Emily got in reply caused a twitch in her brow she couldn’t control. Hotch pointed at it and she could have hissed.

“That. That’s why. You’re all closed up about what happened between the three of you. I feel like pulling you into my office is as good as pulling the pin on a grenade, but maybe if you two are forced to actually work like a team, like you’re meant to be, maybe it’ll grease the wheels of conversation.”

“Did you record Rossi while he said that last part, or are you just role-playing as him?” It usually would have come off as a harmless joke, and maybe even earned a smile from him, but this time, Hotch glared at her.

She straightened her shoulders, not dropping his gaze as she conceded.

“I’ll let Morgan know that we’re going to the hospital together.” Hotch’s eyes changed from an angry glare to scrutiny that left Emily feeling exposed. She inclined her head and turned toward the bullpen to avoid it; he was too perceptive, though he’d never guess what actually occurred between she, Derek, and Penelope.

Her mood soured further when, at Derek’s desk, she saw Rossi probably giving Derek a similar stern talk as the one she just got from Hotch. Her suspicions were confirmed when the two of them looked up to see her, and Rossi looked caught as a deer.

The ride to the hospital was filled with the tense silence that had been building up for days. Emily knew now that with Spencer back, she could and should work on forgiving Derek. She knew Penelope would before she did, but she just didn’t know how to start.

She was driving, and when they pulled over, she locked all the doors to indicate she wanted Derek to stay put.

He could have unlocked his own door, but he took the action for what it was. A firm ‘please wait’.

“I don’t forgive you for what you did. It hurt. It hurt more than you bargained for, and I think you lost big.” She turned to see he was already looking at her. She could feel the gaze she was giving was glassy with unshed tears, but she didn’t let it get in the way of getting out what she needed to before going in there.

Before seeing Spencer in the flesh.

“Spencer is real. He is a real person, and Penelope found him.”

Shock blanked out Derek’s careful patience, and he opened his mouth to respond. Emily continued before he could.

“Shut up. He and I have been living together for months. Struggling to tether him here, for months. And you fucked up that effort in one fell swoop.”

Chastised wasn’t a look that was natural for Derek, it seemed. But right now, she liked it on him.

“Luckily for all of us, he was able to come back last night. Before that, Penny had been looking for him. The physical version. Unfortunately,” she had to stop. The thought of Spencer as a victim of their current unsub causing a heave in her chest. “He is very likely one of the first victims of our unsub. He’s been in a coma for a long time, so he may not-”

She covered her face with her hands, sobs shaking her body while she tried to be silent. When she felt Derek’s hand on her shoulder, she pulled away.

“Don’t. Don’t touch me.”

When she looked at him, he looked devastated all over again, and she was just, unmoored.

“What if he hadn’t been able to come back to me, and- and he doesn’t wake up, Derek? Oh god-” This time, when he pulled her into his arms, she let him.

His words were muffled by her hair, his grip tight and grounding. “I’m so, so sorry, Emily. I was so scared for you, and I acted terribly.” He started rubbing her back as she fought to compose herself. “Now I can’t go back and change the past, as much as I wish I could. But Emily I swear, I will do everything I can for you and that boy. We’re going to catch this unsub, and I’ll do your paperwork when I can if it means you get to come here and see him more. I’m so sorry.”

They stayed like that until Emily was able to compose herself, and she sat holding Derek’s hand for another minute after that.

“You ready to go see him?”

She took another slow breath as she looked up to Derek, helpless. “I have to be.”

Derek took the role of asking the nurse in the room about his injuries when admitted and ongoing care. Emily held her professional composure up until the nurse wasn’t facing her anymore then bit her knuckle hard to control herself.

Yet another deep breath, and she went from frozen with Spencer just in view to sitting at his bedside holding his hand with no memory of the movement.

“I thought I’d lost you, handsome. But look, you’re right here.” She bit her lip, looking him over and comparing what she was seeing with the version she saw in her house last night. In their house.

“You were so close this whole time. Aren’t you meant to be smart? You should have told me.” She smoothed his hair, laughing when it sprung back to what might be an unmanageable mess as soon as she moved her hand away. “I thought you were dishevelled because you were a ghost, but that’s your default, huh?”

She felt Derek’s arm on her shoulder, and he lifted his phone up in his free hand. “Hotch asked us to come back as soon as we can. Linking Spencer gave us a new location, from when the unsub was more of a beginner.”

“From when he was more likely to make mistakes.” She said what Derek’s words implied, and he nodded. 

An alarming amount of hope started to fill her chest and she tried to contain it. “Okay. Alright, we’ll go. And Derek?” Her gaze was intense, and he held it. “Thank you.”

He gave her shoulder a squeeze then left the room before her, allowing her another moment alone with Spencer.

She stood up, steeling herself to get back to work as she looked down at him. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay? And we’re gonna get him. I don’t want to promise it, but, I’ll do my best.”

She leaned in to kiss Spencer’s head, and if she’d still been holding his hand, she would have felt a twitch in his fingers.

When Spencer’s attack had first been looked into, it was a rush job. He’d come from a bar smelling of alcohol, and it was wrongfully assumed he’d been involved in some sort of brawl based on eye-witness accounts.

One witness had apparently seen so much that police were confident it was some stupid fight that had gotten out of hand, and ended with an unfortunate injury but no death.

The CCTV footage that Penelope got her hands on, however, showed a new side to that too-neat story.

Spencer had come out of the bar, looking bewildered and struggling. It matched prior cases where victims were plied with drinks stronger than usually served, who were then ‘shown out’ by bar staff where after they unfortunately were murdered.

In the footage, a blurry Spencer Reid stumbled out under the guiding hand of a staff member. While they were talking with him, another person wearing the same uniform came out, and seemed to relieve the previous person.

“Garcia, who is that?” Hotch’s eyes hadn’t left the screen; this was entirely new evidence that he and Penelope were undoubtedly going to watch many more times.

“No answer for you yet, sir, but I’m working on it. Believe me I am going to get him.” Her voice came over the loudspeaker, the audio quality not impacting her tone. The vehemence in her voice surprised him, but not enough to distract from the task at hand.

Rossi raised an eyebrow, though.

Horrified, Emily watched as this newer person forcefully led an unwilling, but incoherent, Spencer down the alley nearby. While the view was obscured from there, Penelope let out a pained little noise that matched the one Emily did.

Derek squeezed her hand, and Hotch’s analysing gaze didn’t miss that.

When Spencer had stumbled out of the alleyway not long after, the unsub behind him, there were a couple people around. It was clear despite the muted footage there was yelling, but Spencer stumbled away from an unsympathetic audience with the person dressed as staff stopped and spoke with the bystanders.

-

Emily worked late into the night, and considering the fact that she and Penelope had seen Spencer sleep for the first time last night, she figured that was why she didn’t find him in the house.

It set her on edge, but at least she knew from recent experience that if he really disappeared again, she’d be able to bring him back.

The next day, Emily found that Penelope had been in the office before sunrise, and had searched CCTV footage from all around the bar to find and follow Spencer’s attacker.

They didn’t have this opportunity with the later cases, because the unsub grew more criminally sophisticated after Spencer’s attack.

But Emily knew Penelope had him by the balls now, and her grip was unforgiving.

After such an arduous, truly horrific time of chasing him, they finally got their hands on one Paul Sunderland rather quickly after looking into Spencer’s attack.

Derek had a hand in keeping Emily from the takedown, and while Hotch didn’t understand why, he trusted Derek’s advice and had Emily back in the office with Penelope; seething.

Later, when Paul was in custody and being processed, Penelope received a call from the hospital. Emily had leaned in, pressing her ear to the side of Penelope’s headset to hear the muffled conversation.

“-released at 2:30pm this afternoon.” She bit her tongue to dam the outburst of anger; Spencer had been released from the hospital hours ago and they’d only just been called about it. How was he even moving? His muscles must have atrophied something chronic.

Penelope and Emily called Hotch together, citing a personal emergency with a close friend requiring their immediate leave, should he be able to grant it.

While they could sense he was sore at missing so much information recently, he let them go. In Emily’s car, with her driving scarier than Penelope’s could be, they rushed to Spencer and Emily’s house.

Penelope was on a rant the whole way, with Emily emphatically cutting in with agreements and outrage.

Emily wasn’t kind in her break when parking the car, but neither of them stopped to think about it as they made their way up the stairs. 

Her keys were already in hand when they two reached the apartment level, but Emily suddenly halted at the top, and caused a puffing Penelope to run into her back.

“Why-” She took a break, hand on Emily’s back, steadying her. “Why are we stopping?”

A pale, sweating Spencer was sitting on the floor, back to their apartment door, with crutches on the ground beside him. The two women rushed over to him, pulling him into their arms where he held them back just as tight.

“Spencer, what- what are you doing here? How’d you get here?” Emily pulled back to look him over, concern clear.

Penelope cut in before he could respond, running her hands over his arms. “Why are you on the floor outside, sweetheart?”

“It’s my house.” He was breathless, but gleeful. “Sorta sat on the stairs and worked my way up. What kind of building doesn’t have an escalator?” He took another breath, head falling back onto the door. “Crutches didn’t help. Locks have been changed.”

The two girls helped him in and onto the couch, fawning over him. He might not like this kind of attention usually, but soaked it up while it felt good and was available.

The night saw them wrapped in blankets on the bed, Emily conceding to watching old Doctor Who episodes while they drank Spencer’s tea.

Emily felt whole again. Restored.

Maybe she and Penelope weren’t in a relationship yet, and they’d have to go back to work the following day to a demanding and unwelcome amount of paperwork to finally close off and finally ditch Spencer’s attacker’s case, and Spencer had guaranteed grueling physical therapy to attend, but for now…

Just for now, Emily basked in the feeling of belonging, relief, and home.

[brillianthijinx]

Next challenge idea!!!

Thank you so much to the discord members who helped come up with this.

Animal + Theme + Ship

You will choose from a list of animals plus a theme (animal AU, pet, shapeshifter, daemon, etc.) and a ship.

And then I will assign one thing off each of those lists. The story must include the assignment in some way but you can be creative about how you do it! It might be a cat was key to solving a crime, a bird was how Hotch and Spencer finally get together, Spencer watched dog boy p0rn on his phone and wants to try some things…

The choice is yours! As usual for my challenges no Xreader and no OC’s so the focus remains on the CM characters and you must be 18+ to participate and ratings can be whatever you are comfortable with.

Ships will be -

HotchReid, Ralvez, No Pairing, Moreid, Jemily, Morcia, or Penemily, - you choose what you’re comfortable with so some pairing will have multiple and some might not get any if no one wants to write for them.

Here’s the form to sign up if you want!

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Call for CM Blurb Requests

I said it could never be done, but here I am… I’m doing it.

I am opening my ask box — for a very limited time — to blurb requests for…

Spencer Reid/Reader, but also…

Spencer Reid & Austin, Lila Archer or Linda Kimura

ANY BAU Character/Reader (platonic or romantic) (and yes, I mean any member of the BAU, but if I suspect you’re just trying to be funny, I won’t write it)

ANY Platonic BAU Ship

and the following romantic ships:

Jelle

Helle

Temily

Ralvez

Willifer

Garvez

Penemily

My normal Requesting Guidelines apply, which are:

I will NOT write requests for:

Non-con/Rape, CNC, Incest, or Child Sexual Abuse

Readers with specific physical traits

Anything I fear may romanticize mental illness

Anything involving anal

Anything involving self-harm

Purely MLM smut*

Fics revolving around issues of race

Secret Partner/Family fics

* I am okay with alluding to MLM smut, just nothing graphic. It makes me uncomfortable to write graphic MLM smut because I am not a man!

I am also unlikely to write: Eating disorders, Cheating, Insecure Readers, or Kidnapping.

All request must be something that can reasonably be done in less than 750 words, and obviously, I reserve the right to reject any request for any reason.

Check out my most recent reblog or this post here for request ideas, or send in your own original ideas here! I look forward to seeing what you send!