#criminal minds gift exchange

[cumulo-stratus]

Flashback

Pairing: dad!Spencer Reid x gn!Reader

Summary: spencer discusses his thoughts around having kids with his spouse after putting their daughter Diana to bed.

Warnings: mentions of drug abuse/addiction, mentions of cannon typical violence, discussions of having kids(obviously), poor insecure Spencer 🥺🥺

A/N : this was written for the @cmgiftexchange!! I wrote this for @omgbigfluffwriting, I hope you enjoy it and that I did your prompt well!! Merry Christmas <33

wc: 1.7k

The sound of giggling filled the Reid household as you chased the mini-Reid through the kitchen and into the living area. When you finally caught Diana you slipped your hands under her arms and swung her up onto your hip with a cheer. When you both finally caught your breaths you made eye contact with your husband who had a scolding look on his face, but there was still a smile twitching at lips at the scene he had just witnessed. “You know she has to be in bed in- 15 minutes!” Spencer paused and looked down at his watch to emphasize his point about how close it was to Diana's bed time. You just sighed dramatically and addressed your daughter “Well, I think your dads right- we gotta get you to bed- it's a school night!”.

After much kid wrangling and only one bedtime story bribe, Diana was sound asleep and safe- leaving you and your husband for some alone time together. After so many years of being together, you and Spencer dont find there's a need to fill the silence you're often draped in. 

But that night the silence got Spencer thinking. Thinking about you, thinking about Diana, thinking about the life he's built for himself. If he was being honest with himself he never thought he would be here. A spouse and a child, a house. It was more than 23 years old Dr. Spencer Reid, new BAU agent could have possibly imagined. A spouse, let alone a child. 

Those thoughts were even more discouraged when he was kidnapped by Tobias Hankle. Spencer considered that one of his lowest points, he had been tortured and drugged- how could it not be. That's not even to mention the addiction that followed. He was in pieces, mentally and physically. Even after he got clean, Spencer often told himself that he wasn't worthy of children. That he would be worse than his own dad. And without you there to reassure him as you often did after you met, these beliefs solidified in his mind. 

“Y/n?” You looked over at Spencer from where you were lying across from him on the couch. Your questioning look was enough of an answer for Spencer so he continued, “did you always want kids? I used to think I didn't deserve kids”. You gave Spencer a look of pity, you hated when he had thoughts at his own expense. And he knew that. But Spencer couldn't help himself. 

“First of all, Diana loves you and you're the best father for her- full stop. Second of all, I always wanted kids, I think you did too”. Spencer nodded, he had always wanted kids- it was his mind that told him not to. 

“I didn't really start believing that kids were a possibility when I met you”. Spencer smiled warmly when he spoke, his eidetic memory not failing to remember any details from when you first met.

——

Spencer was sat his car that he rarely drove, going to the supermarket, which he rarely did. But it wasn't often that he spiraled into a depressive episode after seeing his girlfriend murdered in front of him, so he thought a change of pace might do him some good. Or more like penelope garcia thought it would do him some goo

That’s how he ended up strolling through the public park on a Tuesday afternoon in april. It was sunny and warm, a stark contrast to the sunken purple bags under Spencer's eyes and the wrinkly shirt that probably should’ve been washed before leaving the house. 

But you- in spencers eyes you were a beauty unto yourself, regardless of what you were wearing. That was one thing that hadn’t changed since he met you, and he swore never would.

To be honest, it was by luck that Spencer had run into you; you were with your nephew as babysitter for the day when he started bothering spencer. Needless to say you were very apologetic.

“Tom, no! leave that man alone! i'm so sorry sir, he doesn't mean it”

You were extremely apologetic, ushering your nephew away from the stranger. Spencer was flustered but understanding, red evident on his cheeks.

Skip to a few hours later and Spencer had spent the entire time with you. It was the best Spencer had felt in weeks, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. 

That night he couldn't stop thinking about everything that had happened; walking around with you, talking with you, meeting your nephew and sister. Spending time with your nephew, it got him thinking. Spencer had tucked away the idea of having kids far into a little nook into his mind, and spending time with Tom dredged it up from the depths of his brain. 

Despite still reeling with the death of his girlfriend, Spencer still couldn't get the thought of having kids and being a dad out of his head. It nagged at him all the time, and the thoughts got loud when he was with you. Picturing you as a parent during your coffee dates. 

Although Spencer Reid has an IQ of 187, and an eidetic memory, it still took him weeks to realize why he couldn’t get the thought of children out of his head; because he wanted to be a dad. He wanted to care for someone, knowing that they rely on him. 

——

“Spencer? Spence?” 

Spencer is pulled from his thoughts of when the couple first met by your soft voice. You had a small look of concern on your face at your husband's lack of awareness of the current reality. Spencer hummed in response to ease your worries. “What's got you with that Spencer Reid Far Off Look ™ in your eyes huh?” you asked. Spencer chuckles, and responds, “Just thinking about when we first met… after Maeve died- it's what got me thinking about having kids you know-”. it's your turn to chuckle now, remembering the embarrassment of having to usher away your nephew. Though your eyes held a sympathetic look at the mention of maeve, it would always be a bit of a sensitive subject. 

“Ya, we have tom to thank for that. But I didn't know that's when you started thinking of kids- I thought it was later, when you first talked to me about it”.

——

It was 1:03 am, and Spencer was still awake, to be fair he had just gotten back from a bad case. It was always bad when it involved kids, Spencer couldn't get the face of the little girl they couldn't save in time out of his head. Thoughts raced through his head, but he would never tell you about them- after all you had only been together for a couple months. Spencer couldn't risk being that vulnerable with you.

So here he was, tossing and turning at one am over a case he couldn't get out of his head- trying not to wake up the sleeping figure beside him. He couldn't stop thinking about if that little girl had been his little girl. What would he do then? Spencer didn’t know if he could handle having another human rely on him so heavily- what if he let them down. What if he became like his own father, something he swore he would never do. 

In all of Spencer's spiraling thoughts he hadn’t noticed that you had woken up from the constant shifting of the bed, which was caused by his  incessant tossing and turning in bed. You noticed the look in Spencer's eyes was one you knew well, it was a look that said the gears were turning a little too fast in that big beautiful brain of his. 

But before you could say anything, Spencer got to it first. “Would I- would I be a good dad?” You were caught off guard by Spencer's question, not expecting him to bring that up. But you could tell Spencer had been thinking about it for a while, if the worry crease between his eyebrows was anything to go by.

“I think you’d be a great dad spence- your kind, your caring, you have an amazing compacité to be there for other people, i think especially if it was your kid..”

You speak in a quiet, comforting tone in order to release at least some of the anxiety your boyfriend is harboring. In an effort to punctuate your point you give Spencer a small squeeze on the arm, hoping it would provide at least a little bit of comfort.

Spencer offered a nod in response not quite knowing what to say to his partner's kindness. Instead of speaking Spencer just rolled from the other side of the bed into your warm embrace, which contrasted the cool breeze from the open window.

——

Spencer comes back from his thoughts by the sound of small feet pitter pattering on the hardwood floors. you don't comment on your husband's spacey-ness that evening, instead opting to sit up and find the source of the sound. 

Which you find out to be the small feet of Diana Reid, who had woken up from a bad dream and sought out the comfort of her parents. Her small frame struggled to climb onto the large bed, so Spencer lifted her up by her armpits and placed her between him and you.

“Cant sleep?”

You ask though the dark, soothingly running your fingers through her curly hair.

“ya.. i had a bad dream and couldn’t fall back asleep”

Her voice is small, the six year old still a bit embarrassed at needing to sleep in her parents bedroom, but Spencer's calming hand running up and down her back helped ease some of the embarrassment and helped her sink into her loving parents arms.

“That’s okay, you can always sleep in here with us if you want”

Spencer says as he kisses Diana's head, and the little girl is already falling asleep in the couple's arms. Both Spencer and you look down at your daughter, now fast asleep in between you, and it puts a smile on your faces. And you can't help but lean over and place a haste kiss on spencers lips and say;

“You know I told you you’d be a good dad”

you had a bit of a sly smirk on your face as Spencer chuckled, and he responded “I guess you were right huh”. And that's how the Reid family fell asleep, contented in each other's arms.

The End

[cargopantsprentiss]

Had a few enquiries about whether I’m hosting @cmgiftexchange again this year so thought I’d make a post explaining why I’m not.

Running a gift exchange is very time consuming, even beyond setting up the exchange itself, assigning everybody partners (I have a spreadsheet system but it takes hours to figure out), the last couple of years I also had to spend a lot of time chasing up people who not only hadn’t finished their works but weren’t responding when I asked for an update, meaning I ended up writing extra pieces, and some participants didn’t get gifts at all. On top of that, I had a lot of messages asking for help, or updates on when they’d receive their gift (which is understandable!) etc.

Please don’t get me wrong - I have enjoyed hosting this event and there’s been so much good come from it, I’m not letting it get overshadowed by some of the negatives. I just wanted to be honest.

This year, I don’t have the time to dedicate to this venture. I want to spend this Christmas with my wife and have her and my family be my sole focus. We’ve had a very hard year, and this Christmas is going to be an important, albeit difficult, one for her.

If anybody would like to take over the reigns at @cmgiftexchange, I would be more than willing to hand over the user details, the spreadsheets etc. I’ll even participate! I just do not have the wherewithal to run it. Next year, who knows? Maybe I’ll have more time.

Also, just wanted to add that I know I didn’t complete the master list last year, and it needs updating. I will work on having everything linked by December, in case anyone wishes to check out the festive goodies of last season.

X

[ssahopelessly]

Gift Exchange

Synopsis: It’s the holidays at the BAU and that only means one thing - Secret Santa gift exchange.

Prompt: “Character only wanted to reveal that they are someone's Secret Santa at the BAU Christmas Party but they end up confessing a lot more than that.” from @imagining-in-the-margins Office Party challenge. {A.N. I did not see this prompt until AFTER I wrote this but close enough.}

Warnings: Spencer Reid x fem!reader, work-place crush, Secret Santa, Spencer is dumb and scared of his own feelings. It’s basic fluff. [let me know any I missed]

Word Count: 4.5k

Masterist

You had only been at the BAU for a few months when suddenly it was the end of November. Thankfully, there hadn’t been a case, so you were able to slip away for an extended weekend to relax and renew before the workload of the final month of the year. Derek had taken you under his wing in a way, and upon your December return, warned you that normally December was the unpredictable predictable month. “What does that even mean?” You had asked while walking into the roundtable room one Monday morning.

“Kid, the period between Thanksgiving and Christmas is notoriously crime ridden. People lose their minds between financial stress and familial stress, and- look, all I’m saying is don’t make any solid plans for the month of December.” With Derek sitting two seats to Spencer's left, you squeezed yourself into the space between them, careful not to bother Spencer’s personal space as you brought yourself closer to the edge of the table.

“What about New Years?” You had tried to ask him, running the potential for an end of the year getaway in your head.

“Actually,” It was natural Spencer cut in, never able to miss a chance to share the information he knew, “the month of December mostly sees crimes revolving around material and monetary gain, crimes like theft and larceny increasing by 20% according to the National Crime Victimization Survey. The summer is when studies show the most violent and heinous crimes occur, specifically on the hotter days.” Derek rolled his eyes, beginning to flip through the small collected pile of paperwork he had carried into the room with him.

“Good morning Spencer.” You chose to greet him, already feeling the easy joy that came from being in his presence.

“Good morning.” It was an effort to not notice the way his voice shrunk back in on itself as your knee accidentally bumped him under the table, not quite catching the side glance Derek was giving you both either.

Unbeknownst to you, there was a running pool in the office. Just a small wager of $50, Derek had bet Emily that Spencer wouldn’t make a move before the New Year. Emily, ever confident in Spencer, insisted Spencer would make some gesture if the proper environment had presented itself. They were both coming up empty handed against the running clock as it had been a few months and neither you nor Spencer seemed to want to push anything further than coworkers, maybe friends.

What they had somehow missed though, were the small lunch runs you two would do for the team, or the few times Spencer had lended you his coat in the colder states, or the way he stayed late in the office with you to help with paperwork. They had missed the moments alone with Spencer that had meant everything to you. Well everything, if having a crush on your coworker wasn’t completely unprofessional and if you also weren’t always surrounded by the people who should be able to read that truth out of you.

The rest of the team had filed in, Penelope the last one to enter, just behind Emily and JJ though. “Okay my lovelies, before I present your next adventure, a small side quest!” Penelope put her things down on the table before picking up a small gift bag, rattling its contents around to your confusion. She clocked it before you could say anything and motioning her hand underneath the bag, motioned to everyone around the table. “Secret Santa!” There was a small groan through the room that was then met with a stern glare from Penelope herself before she returned to presenting the festivity. “I’ll pass the bag around so you all can draw your people. The gift limit is $25 so, no pressure.” She passed the bag to Aaron who, without much ceremony, pulled his drawing out and quickly read it as he passed the bag to Derek. Derek however, closed the bag at its opening and shook the contents before drawing his pick, trying to keep any emotions from his face as he passed it to you.

“What happens if we draw ourselves?” You asked as your hand slipped into the bag and felt around the slips of paper.

“Then put it back, draw again.” Penelope offered as she watched you try to make your drawing. And you tried not to think too much about how you wanted to draw Spencer’s name. Surely if you had asked, he could give you the odds of that right now. But also, the longer you took, the more attention you were drawing to yourself and it was just a work gift exchange anyway, you could always find another time to give him a gift later. Your fingertips graced over one slip for the final time and pinching it between, you drew it out of the bag. Leaning back in the chair you opened it to see one name singularly scribbled in her favourite glitter gel pen: Penelope.

“Not me!” You cheered with minimal enthusiasm, passing the bag to Spencer. There was a slight tremble to your hand when your touch graced his, but you tried to ignore it as you slipped your pick into your work folder, trying to push the small let down from your mind.

“Can I request no home made gifts this year?” Rossi had asked from his spot across from Aaron, leaned back in his chair as the bag continued around the table.

“Are you talking about the homemade socks I got you last year?” Penelope whispered out, small upset hanging off her jutted bottom lip.

“The socks I helped her make last year?” Spencer chimed in with reflected upset. Dave looked like he regretted his request but persisted.

“Kids, look, I love the thought and effort that went into them but they’re not really my style. They were ithcy and- not all of us can show up to crime scene with silly socks and be taken seriously.” Spencer smiled and shrugged at the allusion to his fashion sense. Eventually the bag made it around the table and Penelope delivered her case, with Hotch giving the room the standard wheels up in 30 order, everyone quickly dispersing to collect their things for this new case.

As everyone made their way out of the room, you tried to linger in an attempt to talk to Spencer. “Who’d you get?” You asked when it was just you two in the room, keeping your voice low so only he could hear.

“What?” He hadn’t given you his full attention, mind focused on getting his things into his satchel precisely how he wanted them, a task you had seen a few times before.

“For Secret Santa?”

“Oh. I- I can’t tell you that.” His attention still didn’t fall to you as he closed his bag and started making his way down the few stairs to his desk. You stayed hot on his heels, wanting to discuss secrets like you were a kid again. But he still didn’t pay you any attention, making himself busy with the things on his desk, moving what he could to the drawers as if that would help the clutter that always lingered on the surface. .

Purposefully putting yourself in his way, you took a seat in his desk chair, offering your best pleading eyes as you looked up at him, “Please?”

“It’s a secret! What if I told you and then you told them?” Spencer finally did look down to you, and for the first time you saw a bit of irritation in the way he was looking at you, but his voice still stayed low in the near whisper you had been maintaining.

“I wouldn’t. You know I wouldn’t.” You tried to reassure him.

“I know but…” You were distracted by the way he bit lip before shaking his head, hair falling from behind his ear. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“I’ll tell you who I got.” Was your offered bribe, to level the field of secrets. But Spencer was firm in his decision, shaking his head as he reached for his go-bag. “You’re no fun.” The words seemed to have no effect on him, a small soft smile still pulling at his lips.

“Sorry.” Letting your smile reflect his, you rolled your eyes before going back over to your desk to get ready for the jet, trying not to think about how the anticipation of who got you was going to consume your thoughts.

-

A month had come and gone and five days before Christmas, just as you had returned from what was thankfully a short case, the team managed to hold their little holiday party at Rossi’s. Your gift for Penelope had been something you picked out after a week of consideration and kept put away in a nice gift bag at the back of a drawer that should’ve been full of paperwork.

You weren’t supposed to profile each other, but as the days passed you grew only more curious about who had pulled your name. No one paid you extra attention, no blatant ‘what’s something you want for Christmas’ and in the same way, Spencer never said anything more about Secret Santa or who his pick was. You tried everything to get him to tell you, but he remained firm in his practice of keeping this one thing from you.

It was unanimously decided that Rossi would host the get together like he did all big team events, the team slowly trickling into the house after only having three hours between getting off the jet and agreeing to be there. Once everyone was there, and had their share of snacks from the provided buffet, Penelope gained control of the room like it was the roundtable room all over again. “Okay, this year, whoever has worked in the bureau the longest gets to go first.”

“Oh, wow. Thanks Garcia.” Dave didnt even have to move far, passing a small box to Aaron. You could’ve sworn a “Merry Christmas” was grumbled out, only evidence of so being the smile and laughter that pulled at Aarons mouth as he took the lid off the hand sized box.

“Wow, a gift card to Sutton Suits.” To his credit, Aaron did actually sound excited, which seemed to lighten Rossi for just a minute.

“Tell Oscar I sent you, and he’ll slip a quality cigar into your purchase.”

“Noted.” Their laughter died amongst them as Aaron then passed a red plaid gift wrapped object to Spencer, a sense of wonder settling over the room. Spencer was smiling though, now on the edge of his seat as his fingers slipped along the surface of the gift wrap, looking for a seam.

“You’re my Secret Santa?” He asked in a way that a laugh came out, gently tearing the paper away to reveal another book for Spencer’s collection.

“It’s a compilation of the ranked, most challenging published crossword puzzles from the last 35 years. I thought you’d enjoy.” Aaron explained to both Spencer and the team, your attention captured by Spencer as he pressed his thumb along the edge of the book, flipping through the many crossword puzzles that lined the pages. That one smile you’d grown fond of pulled at the corner of his mouth before he looked back at Aaron, full smile overtaking his face.

“Thank you, Hotch.”

The rest of the exchange went a little something like that. Derek got JJ some gift certificates to a new gym that was opening near her house, and JJ in turn got Derek a bulk bag of door hinges since “you don’t seem to know what those are” but then added he could use them in his house renovations. Penelope got Emily a scrapbook of photos full of Sergio and all the adventures she missed while in WITSEC and Emily got Dave a bottle of whiskey, which he thanked her for getting “the right kind” but then scolded her for spending too much on a gift.

By the time it was your turn, you had realised two things: Spencer hadn’t gone, and no one had given you a gift yet. And you surely hadn’t pulled your name but when you looked over to him, to suggest he go so you could confirm your new forming theory, he wouldn’t look at you. “Has Spencer gone yet?” You asked more so to Penelope, who had essentially made herself the leader of this whole exchange. The puzzled expression of her face held as she looked over to him, a small pout forming on her lips.

“No, no he has not.” The anxiety was creeping up the back of your neck, and just when you thought he had been caught, that you would get your answer, ever the gentleman he was.

“It’s okay, you can go.”

“But you’ve been at the BAU longer.”

“It’s fine. Go.” His voice softly encouraged you from where he sat, next to David’s Christmas tree. Pulling the bag from the side of your chair, you passed the glitter covered gift bag to Penelope, who beamed like she just won the lottery.

“You’re my Secret Santa?” She seemed genuinely excited, weighing the bag in her palm before tearing away at the tissue paper.

“Surprise!” You watched as her jaw fell, hand pulling out the first item. A pink bedazzled stapler, tiny pink rhinestones covering the whole surface.

“Shut up!”

“And there’s pink staples inside, just for you.” Your voice grew quieter as she still seemed ever so thrilled to be opening a present.

She pulled the matching tape dispenser out before finding the pink legal pad and new pink poof pen, one that lit up when the ink was pressed to write. “Where did you find all of this? My dreams?”

“I have my ways.” Putting everything back in the bag, she got up to give you a hug, pulling you tightly into her arms as everyone around you laughed and cheered. Their applause died down when she sat back down, all the attention falling to Spencer.

“Alright lover boy, your turn.” When you watched him then, you could see how nervous he had become, a slight tremble in his hand as he pulled the massive bag from its hiding spot, a bag that stood up to his knee height from the floor.

“You probably figured it out by now.” He whispered to you as he brought the bag closer.

“What’d you get her? Your heart?” Derek remarked from where he sat next to Emily, who was quick to elbow him in the side. Spencer must have registered his words as he had a jerk reaction to it like he briefly choked on something, but he was quick to return to his normal behavior, avoiding your eyes as he returned to his seat. From there though, he seemed more comfortable to make eye contact with you, lips curling in to lick them before trying to find his words again.

“What is it?” You beat him to it, but the smile that had formed on your lips seemed to put him at ease as he reflected it to you.

“Just open it.” Was his simple instruction as he leaned back in his seat, knee bouncing in subtle anticipation. Prying the sealed gift bag open, you were met with a familiar black fabric, though without the pilling that you were almost used to. With both hands you pulled it from the bag on the floor, up into the air to get a better look at it. It was a new black peacoat, your size and everything. Bringing it to your lap, you immediately looked to Spencer who was biting his lip, waiting for your response.

“Thank you!” Were the few words you were able to come up with, the simplicity seeming to make Spencer relax again

“Well come on, try it on for us!” Penelope called from her seat, reminding you that the whole team was watching this gesture in action. Standing, you unfasted the buttons and slipped your arms into the satin lining, already imagining how warm the cold weather cases were going to become.

You tried not to think of the first time Spencer let you borrow his jacket, how it was still warm from his own body heat. How the scents of his cologne and laundry detergent wafted around you like a scarf, forcing you to smell and think of him despite trying to focus on the crime scene you had been visiting that day. How the second and third cold weather case you had again asked for the jacket, but by the fourth and fifth case and so on he had offered it to you, always smiling when you slipped it on. “Borrowing your boyfriends jacket?” Derek had taunted you one day, in earshot of Spencer who failed to fight the blush on his cheeks. It was such a simple thing, but knowing you had your own black peacoat, and that of all people, Spencer, had been the one to get it for you meant everything.

Slipping a hand into a pocket, you felt a piece of paper, small and folded hiding within. Immediately looking back to Spencer, he just offered you a smile and a wink, patting the same spot on his cardigan as if he knew what you were about to say.

“Ooo la la, why have we seen this look on you before?” JJ asked more to the room than you specifically, and again you looked to Spencer, who seemed to be in his own thoughts, a small blush rising to his cheeks.

“Because she always borrows my jacket, I thought she should have one of her own.” There was something in the way he was looking at you, a gentle fondness that you had only ever seen from him a handful of times.

“And all for $25?” Emily added to the questioning. “Where did you get such a deal?”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Aaron tried to spare you both and reign in the team. “That is a nice coat though. Well done.” The blush had stayed on his cheeks and while you slipped the coat off your arms, you made sure to reach for the note before slipping the coat back into the bag.

“Now, we eat!” David cheered over the room, everyone vacating their spots to head towards the kitchen. You lingered in an effort to read the note, opening it in the palm of your hand.

“I need to talk to you.” Scribbled Spencer’s hand writing before signing off on it with a singular S.

“Are you coming?” His voice caught your attention, unaware he was beside you this whole time.

“Spencer, I-“

“Later.” He was quick to cut you off before motioning with an extended hand for you to walk in front of him towards the dining table.

-

After dinner, night started to fall noticeably over the Rossi Mansion. All conversations had lost their focus and everyones laughter was bordering into delirious bouts of nonsense. Before anyone could leave, Dave asked that people either make leftover plates to take home or help clean up the dishes into the kitchen so all he really needed to do was wash them (or load the dishwasher, whichever one happened first).

With everyone winding down and getting ready to say their farewells for the evening, you tried to get Spencer alone for just a second, yet he always seemed to find something to do. It wasn’t like he was avoiding you, he kept looking at you, smiling that same soft smile, but he also made an effort to not be alone in the same room as you. “Everything okay?” Derek had asked as you watched Spencer and Penelope clean up the wrappings and trash of the Secret Santa gift exchange.

“He’s avoiding me.”

“What?”

“He bought me this nice ass jacket and now he’s avoiding me.” You mused aloud, never bothering to actually look at Derek, still watching how Spencer would bend down to reach between the chairs for scraps of torn gift wrap. “Why would he do that?”

“Listen, we are profilers,” Derek started, now also watching Spencer, “but there’s no science for what goes on in his mind.”

“I-” Were you really about to air out your inner thoughts to Derek, surely the one person on the team who would give you advice if not for the cost of also holding those same thoughts over your head later? “I need to talk to him. But he’s…” Your words fell short as you watched Spencer look around the living room, confirming all the trash had been picked up. He started pulling on his sweater before he looked at you, saw Derek, and immediately turned to Penelope and Emily to offer his assistance in loading their cars. “Avoiding me.”

“It’s not you.”

“What?”

“He’s avoiding himself.”

“It’s Spencer. He-” You thought about how forward everything had been. The jacket, the note, the concept of the present itself. How one minute he was confident and charming and the next second he was unsure and slightly distant. “Why would he do that?”

“Say the first part of your sentence again.” A chuckle came from Derek’s lips as you thought it over: It’s Spencer.

“Why would he do that?” You repeated, hoping to maybe get a different answer from him.

Taking too much enjoyment in the obvious pining, Derek just laughed, “Back to the first answer: there’s no logic, rhyme or reason.”

“It’s Spencer.” You concluded aloud now for your own understanding, hoping everything would start to make sense.

“You got it.”

Spencer had come back inside just for Dave to start corralling everyone out of the house. “You don’t have to go home, but you cannot stay here.” He had said as everyone started to say their final goodbyes for the night. There were hugs all around, many variations of holiday wishes for the extended weekend everyone was about to embark on.

“Hey, can you give Spencer a ride home?” Emily had asked as she pulled away from her goodbye hug.

“Excuse me?” He called several feet away from where he had been on the fringes of a conversation between Aaron and JJ.

“Is everything okay?” You had asked her, looking her once over as if the answer was somewhere on her person.

“Yeah. Penelope ordered something to my address and I’m supposed to drop it off at her apartment after and, well I forgot. Besides, don’t want to keep Reid out past his bedtime.” She had tried to joke but he crossed over to your conversation now, slight upset over his face.

“I don’t have a bedtime!” He had tried to protest.

All to be met with a “yes you do,” from the members of the team that were still left. The pout in protest pulled his bottom lip out from under his top, and he finally turned to look at you. His attention shouldn’t have felt like a reward, but being treated with an imaginary ten foot pole in his attempt to keep distance wasn’t a fond feeling either.

You tried to offer him some semblance of comfort but he just turned on his heels to grab his bag from Emily’s car, sulking back over to your car. “Good luck.” Emily whispered to you before turning back to her car.

Climbing into your car, you noticed how Spencer was content to sit completely still and rigid in his seat, his knee bouncing as he brought his fingers to press to his lips.

“Are you okay?” It was an attempt at bursting the bubble that had formed around you two, keeping you in separate worlds from the other.

“I’m fine.” He huffed, answer too short and to the point.

“You’re lying.”

“No I’m not.” You heard it then. The rise of an octave, the unbelievable deflection.

“You are.” He settled further into his seat as you drove out of the DC suburbs and closer to where your apartments were. “Did I do something wrong?” Your voice fell then, insecurity creeping in at the thought that maybe you had unknowingly done something to upset him.

“What?” His voice wasn’t high in pitch this time, but soft in tone as he snapped his attention to you. “Why would you think-”

“Well, you gave me a really nice gift and asked to speak to me later and then spent the rest of the evening avoiding me. So I thought maybe I just did something to offend you, so…”

“I’m not… offended.”

“You’re not?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

“I,” his head fell back, hitting the head rest before he blew out some air from his pressed lips, looking over to you to watch your reaction to his next words, “I like you.”

“Well yeah. I mean we’re friends, have been friends for quite some time now.”

“No, I mean… I like you, like you.”

“Oh?” A silence had settled as you both took a moment to take in his words, then hoping the other would say something to end the silence. “Are you sure?”

“Am I sure?” It offered him the chance to laugh. Not like he was insulted, but more he thought it was funny that you weren’t sure if he was sure.

“I mean- I think I get it. But why did you spend the rest of the night avoiding me?”

“Because,” you came to a red light while you waited for his answer, looking to him to see he had already been watching you, “I was scared you wouldn’t feel the same.” He started to shy away from you again, eyes avoiding meeting yours no matter how long you thought you’d been staring at him.

“What if I do?” You reached for his hand in between your two seats, fingers gently securing through his, waiting to see if he would pull away. This grabbed his attention, hopeful eyes finally looking into yours now. “What if I do, like you, like you?”

“Then I would be thrilled.” It was sweet, the feeling of understanding, of mutual endearment for the other while he held your hand there, paying no mind to the red light above you both. But like a sign from above, it turned green, reflecting off the interior of the car.

There were so many things you wanted to commit to memory, in the same way he would without half the effort. You wanted to remember the way he looked at you, the way it felt to be under his gaze with this new meaning. You wanted to remember the way it felt to hold his hand, or the way it felt to have his thumbing small circles into your hand. The way you couldn’t fight the smile as it took over your lips, or the way he seemed to feel the same way. But most of all, you wanted to remember how it felt to be in that moment with him, mind swimming with possibilities of what this would mean for the future.

-

Tell me what you think here.

[cmgiftexchange]

CRIMINAL MINDS FANDOM GIFT EXCHANGE 2023 • sign ups now open

Hello and welcome to year two of the Criminal Minds gift exchange! We had an amazing turn out last year, so let’s see if we can outdo ourselves in 2023!

Here’s a recap on what it is we do here:

Firstly, what is a fandom gift exchange I hear you ask? That’s simple. It’s like Secret Santa, but instead of receiving a candle that someone got from their grandma last Christmas and didn’t want, you get a fan creation made (or written) just for you.

Okay, so how does it work? Everyone will both receive a gift, and create a gift. After the 14th, you will get a DM from us with the details of your recipient’s wish list, so you can get started. There will be a week’s window to post your gifts - starting Dec 19th - and you can choose to do this publicly on tumblr or AO3, or via direct message.

Do I get to choose my own recipient/Santa? You will be assigned both a recipient and a Santa based on your answers to the form at the end of this post. You will be matched by the ships and characters you’re willing to create for/wish to receive works about, the content you’re able to create or wish to receive, and any other factors we think might be relevant. This is so you don’t end up having to write a story for a character you don’t like, or a ship you can’t tolerate. We’ll ensure that you also don’t receive anything that might be triggering, upsetting, or inappropriate in terms of rating - as these are all things you’ll answer about on the form.

Okay so what fan works are allowed? FanFiction (anything over 1000 words), fanart, video edits, fanmixes (min. 8 tracks) and creative gif sets will all be accepted as gifts - the important thing being you should present something you yourself would be happy to receive (in terms of quality, a finished piece etc.) In the form, you can select preferences for these, as well as letting us know what type of creation you’re willing to gift. We will match you to your recipient and Santa through this.

We are allowing NSFW content in this exchange, however, as minors will also be allowed to participate, please read the info of your recipient very carefully to ensure you don’t gift someone something inappropriate. Also be sure to use the community guidelines on tumblr, and the rating system on Ao3 (if applicable) to ensure this content is seen by the correct eyes!

Okay, this sounds great! I’m in! What next? Please fill out this form and submit it before November 14th - be sure to thoroughly answer all the questions. You will receive a DM from this page on the 15th assigning you your recipient, including all the info stated in the form. No personal or private information will be corresponded! If you wish, you could follow your new fandom buddy, but we recommend you don’t do this until submission time as it may be very obvious! From the 19th December, you can begin to post your gifts, or send them privately. Any publicly posted gifts should include a tag for this account so we can repost them for everyone to see. We will also be creating an AO3 collection so be sure to add your fic to that.

The deadline for posting your gift will be the 25th December - if you are concerned you may not meet this deadline, please DM us and we will try to help. We don’t want anybody going empty handed this holiday season, but equally, we all know life gets in the way and there may be reasons you fall behind which we can help with.

Please reblog/share this with your friends so we can make this the best holiday exchange possible! Please note, not everyone will be celebrating the same holiday, or the holiday season at all, so please only theme your gift around the season if specified! Our ask box is open for any queries or concerns you may have. Happy gifting!

[scorpsik]

Temily and Garvez

For @gaelic-symphony for the 2023 @cmgiftexchange

Happy Holidays to you, my friend xx

Emily and Tara. They're both mature people. Their date would be fun and sophisticated and full of innuendo laced flirting.

Penelope and Luke, on the other hand.......

[ideeylic]

‘I’ve got you. It’ll be okay.’

Hi!! I was part of the @cmgiftexchange !! This is my gift for @holybranches!! In the brief I got it said you love hurt/comfort, emphasis on the comfort, so I hope you like this!! Happy holidays!!

[gaelic-symphony]

And Kitty Makes Three

Written for my dear friend @blackbird-brewster for the @cmgiftexchange

Merry Christmas, Kit!!!! I love you so much and I had a blast writing this for you! 💕💕💕

Words: 1047

Rating: G

Pairing: Emily Prentiss/Tara Lewis

Warnings: None

Tara and Emily, now retired from the BAU, decide to expand their family by adopting a cat.

Read on AO3 or below the cut

               Since retiring from the BAU, Tara and Emily had a lot more free time and a lot more space and energy in their lives for new things.  At first, they didn’t quite know what to do with themselves.  Their lives had revolved around work for so long; their entire married life together had been spent traveling around the country and working long hours for the BAU.  Now, Emily was only teaching at the FBI Academy two days a week, and Tara was a freelance FBI consultant they brought in from time to time to do a psychological evaluation or testify as an expert witness.  They had all the time in the world to try new hobbies: Emily started taking guitar lessons, and Tara planted an herb garden in the backyard.  It brought them joy and kept them occupied, but they still wanted more.  They wanted to be needed.

               Children had never really been part of either of their life plans, and even if it had, they were in their fifties now, and the idea of parenting young children at this stage in their life just seemed exhausting.  But the idea of having someone else in their home that they could love and care for together seemed like the perfect way to round out their retirement life.  And so they went to the animal shelter one Friday morning to find their new baby.  They were greeted by a friendly shelter volunteer in brightly colored overalls.

               “Welcome!” they said, “I’m Kit.  What can I help you with today?”

               “I’m Emily, and this is my wife Tara,” Emily said, “We’d like to adopt a cat.”

               “That’s great!” Kit said, “Are you looking for a kitten or an adult cat?”

               “Um, maybe like a young adult?” Tara said, looking to Emily for confirmation.

               “Yeah, definitely,” Emily nodded, “Past the kitten stage, but still has a long life ahead of them.”

               “And do either of you have experience owning cats before?” Kit asked.

               “Um, a little bit,” Emily said, “I had a cat for a little while, but when I got a job overseas I gave him to my friend Penelope.”

               “Okay, well, we’ve got several cats that might be a good fit for your family,” Kit said, “Let’s go meet some!”

               They led Emily and Tara through a door to the kennels where the shelter kept the adoptable cats.  They stopped in front of one of the kennels and coaxed a little white cat to the door.

               “This is Winnie,” they said, “She’s one and a half, and she loves to play.  She’s very energetic—some of the shelter volunteers call her feisty, but I think she just knows what she wants in life!”

               “She’s adorable,” Emily said, holding her hand out for the cat to sniff, “What do you think, babe?”

               “Definitely a cutie pie,” Tara agreed, “But I think we should meet a couple more cats before we pick one.”

               “Of course,” Kit said.  They moved on to another kennel, where a handsome tuxedo cat was curled up in the back corner.  “That’s Mozart,” they said, “He’s very shy at first, but once he warms up to you, he’s the sweetest little guy.”

               “I think we were hoping for a friendlier cat that would get along with our nieces and nephews,” Tara said, “We’re not parents, but we have children over to our house a lot.”

               “Oh, okay,” Kit nodded, “I think I have the perfect cat for you.”

               They led Tara and Emily down to the end of the row of kennels.  A big, fluffy, orange and white tabby perked up as soon as he saw Kit.  He let out a raspy little mewl and trotted up to the door of the kennel.  Tara crouched down and let him sniff her hand.  He purred and rubbed his cheek against the bars of the kennel.

               “This is Sherman,” Kit said, “He’s three years old, and he loves to snuggle.  He might just be the friendliest cat I’ve ever met!”

               “Can we take him out of the kennel?” Emily asked.

               “Sure thing,” Kit said, “There’s a meeting room right through that door.”  They opened the door and picked Sherman up, and brought him into the meeting room to get acquainted with Emily and Tara.

               “What else can you tell us about him?” Tara asked.

               “Well, he’s been in the shelter for a little over a month, after his old owner moved in with a boyfriend who was highly allergic to him.  He got a clean bill of health from our vet, but he’s allergic to dairy, so we have to be careful about the treats we give him.  He likes to play with toys and climb up on things, but he’s pretty mellow, and most of the time he’d rather be snuggling with his people.”

               At this point, Sherman had already curled up next to Emily, purring loudly as she scratched him behind the ear.

               “I love him already!” Emily said.

               “It looks like the feeling is mutual,” Kit laughed.

               “There’s no way we can leave him here,” Tara said, tickling Sherman under his little white chin, “This is our cat.”

               “I’ll go get the paperwork,” Kit said.  They went to the main office to get the adoption paperwork and Sherman’s vet records.  Emily and Tara were still doting on him when they came back.  Kit handed Emily a clipboard and a pen.  “I’ll just need you both to sign this,” they said, “And then he’s all yours.”

               While Emily and Tara read over the forms and signed them, Kit picked up Sherman and put him in the cat carrier Emily and Tara had brought with them.  With all the paperwork signed, Kit handed over the cat carrier to Emily and the vet records and some informational pamphlets for new cat owners to Tara.

               “Okay, Sherman,” they cooed at the cat in the carrier, “You’re gonna go home with your new moms now, buddy!”

               Tara and Emily thanked Kit and carried their new cat out to the car.  Emily held the cat carrier in her lap as Tara drove them both home.  She pulled into the driveway, put the car in park, and turned to look at her wife and cat together.  She smiled and leaned across the center console to give Emily a kiss.  This was their family now: Tara, Emily, and Sherman, and they had many leisurely years of love and joy ahead of them.

[putting-the-bi-in-bau]

For @chaotic-librarian for the Criminal Minds 2023 Holiday Gift Exchange!

You asked for: HotchReid secretly married and have rings but only wear them at home But Rossi/Morgan/[insert BAU member] comes by as a surprise after a case left Hotch/Reid (as applicable) hurt only to not only find the other man there but there are rings on their fingers and so they awkwardly come out to the visitor

I hope I delivered everything you wanted <3

Thanks again @cmgiftexchange for organising this awesome event for us all

[spencer-reids-adventures]

for @justiceforralvez, for the 2022 @cmgiftexchange 💕

prompts: ralvez, hurt/comfort, fluff, autistic spencer reid

---

in this world it's just us

one

The first time Luke sees it happen, he’s only recently joined the team. He doesn’t know Spencer very well yet, doesn’t know about his quirks and oddities, aside from no handshakes. They aren’t close yet. They aren’t together yet. The first time it happens, Luke isn’t quite sure what to do.

They’re at an unfamiliar precinct and the local LEOs are being insufferable, the weather is hot and muggy, and they’ve been working hard for hours with absolutely no leads. Spencer has been switching his time between geographical profiles and ciphers, and neither are leading to any satisfying headway. He starts to become overwhelmed with the entire situation, and though he can feel his throat growing tight, he ignores the sensation until it’s too late. As if there were anything he could have done about it anyway.

“Hey, you okay?” Luke asks, entering the room where Spencer’s sitting cross-legged on the table staring at a whiteboard and taking in his distressed face. “You look upset.”

Spencer opens his mouth but no words come out. Frustrated, he shakes his head and looks away. Then he signs, “Can’t speak,” but Luke doesn’t understand right away.

“I, uh, don’t speak sign language,” he says apologetically. “Are you—can you not talk?”

Spencer nods and stares down at his lap.

“Okay, hey, it’s okay,” Luke says comfortingly. “What can I do to help?”

Spencer shrugs and grabs a piece of paper and a pen.

Leave me alone for now, he writes. Please I’m sorry. I’ll explain later.

“You want me to put a sign on the door so no one else comes in?” Luke asks, reaching for the pen and paper. Spencer nods gratefully. Luke writes, Please do not disturb and grabs a piece of tape, jumping up and sticking the paper to the door of the conference room. “I’ll come check on you later, okay?” he says, and Spencer just nods.

two

That evening Spencer continues to communicate by writing notes, but the rest of the team doesn’t seem fazed. Luke wonders if this happens often, if they’re just used to this. He wonders if Spencer is used to this, if he ever could get used to this. More than anything, he seems embarrassed, and Luke hates to see him that way. He wants to do something, anything, to make it better.

They don’t really discuss it until months later, when they’re just beginning their relationship. They’re over at Spencer’s, watching documentaries on the couch, and Spencer has seemed tense all evening. All of a sudden, Spencer mutes the show and turns to glance at Luke.

“There’s something I feel like I should tell you,” he says. “You probably already know, but I’d rather it just be out in the open.”

“Okay,” Luke says easily. “You can tell me anything.”

“I’m autistic,” Spencer says. “That’s why I struggle with some things more than most people, and why I sometimes disappear on cases, and why I occasionally can’t speak. It’s all connected. The rest of the team knows, I’m pretty sure, though we’ve never really talked about it. Gideon knew, and I think he told them. But I wanted you to know, and I wanted you to hear it from me.”

Luke is quiet for a moment. “Thank you for telling me,” he says before it becomes awkward. “Thank you for trusting me with that information. When did you learn sign language?”

“When I was a kid. My mom and I both learned once she realized I went through periods where I couldn’t speak. She wanted to be sure we could always communicate with each other. We took classes together starting when I was five.”

“That’s amazing. Your mom is amazing.” He pauses. “Are you feeling okay about having told me all of this?”

“I think so. Just, please don’t treat me differently,” Spencer begs in a small voice. “Somes people talk to me differently, or treat me like a baby, and I’m not, I’m not any different, I’m just—it just is what it is. That’s the real reason I’ve never outright told the team. I don’t want them to treat me differently.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Luke promises. “You’re still you. You’re still Spencer. I just have a little bit more information, that’s all. You don’t have to be, like, ashamed or anything.”

“I’m not ashamed of being autistic,” Spencer clarifies. “I just don’t like telling people.”

“That’s valid,” Luke says. “I promise this doesn’t change anything between us.”

Spencer looks relaxed for the first time all night. “Thank you,” he says. “That means a lot to me.”

Luke is telling the truth; nothing changes between them. He uses the information to understand why Spencer does some of the things he does, and it makes a lot of things make more sense to him. But he doesn’t act like Spencer is someone who needs special treatment, he doesn’t handle him with kid gloves. He’s just Spencer, Luke’s boyfriend, and that’s that. 

The next time Spencer loses his voice in public, Luke makes sure to have a pen and paper handy, and though Spencer’s handwriting is shaky and unsure, he manages to communicate what he needs to with Luke, occasionally supplementing with signs that Luke doesn’t really understand, though he tries to remember the basic ones. It breaks Luke’s heart to know there isn’t more he can do to help.

three

Luke and Spencer have been together for two years, and Luke is acting strange, and he has been for months now, a year even, and Spencer doesn’t know what to do. As far as he can tell, nothing has really changed between them—they haven’t been fighting, they haven’t had any sort of falling out or miscommunication. Everything seems perfectly normal except for one thing.

Every Thursday night when they’re not on a case, Luke disappears, and he won’t tell Spencer where he’s going.

He doesn’t straight up refuse to tell Spencer, but when he leaves and Spencer asks where he’s going, he can tell that Luke is lying.

“Oh, I have a meeting with someone,” he’ll say vaguely, or “Oh, I have to go work out,” but then he won’t bring his workout clothes with him. For a profiler, he’s a very bad liar, and it makes Spencer nervous. He doesn’t understand why Luke won’t just tell him the truth about where he’s going. He doesn’t think Luke would cheat on him, but this behavior has him on edge, and he really doesn’t know what to think.

He doesn’t say anything for a long time. He stops asking Luke where he’s headed, resigning himself to the fact that Luke is his own person and Spencer doesn’t need to keep tabs on him every second. He contemplates asking Garcia to ping his cell phone’s location, but he doesn’t want to be that kind of boyfriend. So instead, he keeps it bottled up, keeps it to himself, and waits to explode.

One Thursday, Luke gets home from wherever he’s been, and Spencer has locked himself in the bedroom and won’t come out. He knows he’s being petty and ridiculous, but he also doesn’t feel like he can trust Luke anymore, and he’s so agitated he’s lost the ability to speak completely.

Luke calls for him, banging on the door, begging for him to open it, but Spencer just can’t. He slides a note under the door that says, Not now, and Luke sighs and sits down on the other side of the door.

“Are you mad at me, Spence?” he asks, and Spencer wonders if he actually expects a reply.

Not now. He underlines where he wrote it the first time and pushes the paper back out.

“Please talk to me. Write to me. Whatever. Did I do something to upset you?”

I don’t want to talk about it.

“Please, cariño. Let me help you. Let me know what I did wrong.”

Spencer starts to write about how frustrated he is, about how Luke is lying to him, about how he doesn’t want to fight but he doesn’t understand why Luke doesn’t trust him anymore. Then he tears the paper up into pieces and begins to cry. When he can’t take it anymore, he opens up the door and looks at Luke.

“I hate this,” he signs. “You’re lying to me about where you go on Thursday nights. You don’t trust me, or you’re keeping something from me. I don’t understand what I did wrong. I don’t know what to do. I’m so mad at you and I don’t know what to do.”

Luke stares at him with wide eyes, a look of devastation crossing his face.

“I’m so sorry,” he gasps. “I didn’t know you felt that way. I trust you. You’re not doing anything wrong. I’m so sorry.”

Spencer gapes at him.

“I’m sorry,” Luke signs. “I’ve been taking classes. Learning ASL so I could understand you when you can’t speak. I should have told you.”

Spencer is overwhelmed with emotion and doesn’t know what to do. He can feel the tears falling down his cheeks, and they’re wet and slippery, and the sensation against his hot skin is awful. He wants to tell Luke, “I’m sorry, I forgive you, please help me,” but his brain won’t let him properly process those thoughts, so instead he just stands there and stares.

“Thank you,” he finally signs, and then drops to the floor and wraps his arms around his legs, resting his forehead on his knees. He rocks back and forth, trying to self-regulate, and Luke knows not to try to touch him, not right now. The doorway is silent as Spencer rocks and Luke watches helplessly.

Eventually, after what feels like hours but is probably more like 20 minutes, Spencer lifts his head and looks at Luke, his thoughts finally settling, though he still can’t speak. 

“You did that for me?” he signs.

“Of course I did,” Luke replies. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

Luke stands up and helps Spencer up, and then Luke puts Spencer to bed, tucking him in carefully and placing a cup of water next to his side of the bed.

“Sweet dreams,” he says. “We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

four

When Luke wakes up, Spencer isn’t in bed next to him. He gets up and grabs his hoodie, zipping it up as he steps out into the kitchen, where Spencer has prepared a feast. The counter is piled high with pancakes, eggs, bacon, and fruit.

“What’s this?” he asks, and Spencer, who is facing away from him, jumps in surprise and spins around.

“I made you breakfast,” he says. “I was going to bring it to you in bed.”

“Why did you make me breakfast?”

Spencer stares at him. “Because I love you? And because you learned sign language for me? And because I feel bad for assuming you were doing something nefarious behind my back?”

“Nefarious?” Luke raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t know what I thought,” Spencer sighs. “I know you wouldn’t cheat on me. I know you wouldn’t do anything terrible. But I just didn’t know where you were going, and you wouldn’t tell me, and it made me a little bit crazy. I’m sorry I’m like this.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, Spencer,” Luke says. “I should have told you. I know you don’t really like surprises, I don’t know why I decided I needed to surprise you with this. I should have just been honest from the beginning. I’m sorry I put you through that.”

“You have no reason to apologize. You did something so nice for me, and I need you to know how much it means to me. Thank you, Luke.”

“You’re welcome. But it’s no big deal. I just love you, you know? And I wanted to be able to communicate with you all the time. Just like your mom did.”

Spencer wipes his hand across his face, and Luke realizes that he’s crying.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” he says with a sniff. “God, my mom is going to love you when she hears about this.”

“Your mom already loves me,” Luke points out.

“She’s going to love you even more.” 

Luke steps around the counter and wraps his arms around Spencer.

five

It’s a busy day in the office—the team is working out of Quantico on a local case, so though they’re at home, the stakes are high and everyone is exhausted and overworked. It’s been three days and Spencer hasn’t slept at all in that time. He knows everyone can tell he’s running on fumes, but at least they’re polite enough not to say anything about it.

There’s a fly in the room, and it’s buzzing around his head, occasionally getting close to his ear, and he can’t stand it. The sound makes him so uncomfortable, and he starts to feel itchy all over, almost as if he can feel the fly walking across his skin. 

The fluorescent light is flickering slightly and buzzing almost as loudly as the fly, and Spencer is completely overwhelmed by everything, he feels like he’s floating, he can feel his throat tightening…

JJ comes into the room with a stack of files and she starts talking loudly and quickly and Spencer can’t even process what she’s saying, can’t track the words or make any sort of sense out of them, and he’s frustrated and embarrassed, and he can’t say a word, and he doesn’t know what to do. JJ stares at him, clearly having asked him a question, and he can’t answer her, and he feels like he’s about two inches tall, and he’s contemplating crawling under the table when Luke walks into the room.

Hands flying, Spencer frantically explains that he’s overwhelmed and he doesn’t know what JJ wants and he’s about to lose it. Then he hunches over with his face in his hands, humiliated.

“Jayj,” he hears Luke say. “Spence is really struggling right now. I think it would be best if i take him home to get some rest. Can you let Emily know?”

“Yeah, of course,” JJ says. “Since when do you understand sign language?”

“It’s a long story,” Luke says, but Spencer can hear the grin in his voice. “I’ll tell you all about it sometime, but not right now. We’ll see you later, okay?”

“Yeah, go, go, I’ll talk to Emily. Feel better, Spence. Luke, take care of him.”

“I will,” Luke promises, and he takes a step closer to Spencer, who’s finally looked up from his hands. He slides off the table and stands close to Luke. “You ready to go?” Luke asks. 

Spencer nods and follows him out of the room. 

six

When they get home, Spencer curls up on the couch and wraps a blanket around his shoulders.

“You wanna stay out here?” Luke asks. “Or I can tuck you into bed if you’d prefer. It’s darker in there.”

“The light in here is okay,” signs Spencer. “Rather be out here.”

Luke nods and brings Spencer a glass of water. 

“Is there anything else you need?” he asks.

“Not right now. Going to lay down for a little while, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll just be around, so let me know if something comes up.”

Spencer rests for a couple of hours, and Luke manages to get some cleaning done and then listens to music while he tries to decide what to make for dinner. 

“Are smells bothering you?” he asks Spencer, who isn’t asleep, just staring up at the ceiling. “I was thinking of starting dinner.”

“I think it’ll be okay,” Spencer signs. “Make whatever you want. I’ll probably just have noodles.”

Luke makes himself some food, confident he’s not bothering Spencer, and then makes Spencer a bowl of noodles, which he carries to the living room and sets on the coffee table.

“I thought we could eat together,” he says. “If you want.”

Spencer clears his throat. “I do,” he says hoarsely. “Thank you for making me dinner.”

“Of course,” Luke says. “Sounds like your voice is coming back?”

Spencer nods. “Luke, that was amazing.”

Luke is confused. “What was amazing? It seemed like you were having a pretty bad day, actually.”

“No, I was,” Spencer clarifies. “But the fact that I could be in that state and you could still understand me—we could communicate without having to write everything down—I could tell you what I needed and you could ask me questions—I haven’t had that since I was a little kid, with my mom. And it makes such a huge difference. Thank you so much.”

“It’s nothing,” Luke says bashfully. “But you’re right, it was great to be able to understand you and communicate with you. Makes things so much simpler.”

“Do you think we should tell the team about us?”

Luke looks at him, eyes wide. “Where did that come from?”

“JJ asked when you learned ASL. What were you planning to tell her? That you learned because your random coworker occasionally can’t talk at work? Maybe it’s time we just tell them the truth about us. We practically live together at this point anyway. They’re going to figure it out sooner or later.”

“Maybe it is time to tell them,” Luke says. “I’ve been nervous, but I’m not really sure why.”

“I’m almost positive they’ll be supportive.”

“Almost?”

“You can never be 100% certain how someone is going to react to news like that,” Spencer explains. “My gut tells me it’ll be fine, but I don’t want to be caught completely off guard if something goes wrong.”

“That’s fair. Well, maybe we should tell Emily first, and see how she reacts. Since she’ll be doing the extra paperwork. And then if that goes well, we could tell the team?”

“Good plan.”

seven

Luke and Spencer meet outside Emily’s office a few days later, and Spencer knocks hesitantly.

“Come in,” calls Emily, and they step inside. “Hey guys,” she says. “How can I help you?”

Spencer looks at Luke, who clears his throat awkwardly. “We’ve come to disclose our relationship,” he says, reaching for Spencer’s hand. Spencer takes his and gives it a squeeze.

“Your relationship?” Emily’s mouth hangs open. “How did I not see this coming?”

“I have no idea,” Spencer says. “I didn’t think we were being that subtle, though we were trying to be.”

“You did a good job,” Emily says. “I had absolutely no idea. How long have you guys been together?

“Two years,” says Luke, and Emily gapes again.

“Well, belated congratulations,” she says. “I’ll have to fill out some forms, but you guys should be good to go. Thank you for telling me.”

“Thank you for not freaking out,” Spencer says. “Really, thank you.”

Now that they’ve told Emily, it’s time to tell the team, and it turns out to be much more nerve wracking than Spencer expected. He just doesn’t know how his friends are going to react.

Luke gathers them into the conference room later that afternoon, so they can tell everyone at the same time, and Emily joins them even though she already knows. She gives Spencer an encouraging smile as he opens his mouth to speak.

“We have something we want to tell you,” he says. “And I’m sorry we didn’t tell you before, it’s just—”

“Oh my god, are you guys together?” squeals Penelope, a huge smile on her face. “I knew it!”

“How did you know?” Luke asks.

“Wait, she’s right?” JJ asks. Everyone starts talking at the same time, and Emily is the one to quiet them down.

“Let the boys speak,” she says loudly, and the room goes silent.

“Luke and I are a couple,” Spencer says. “We’ve been together for two years. Sorry we didn’t tell you sooner.”

The whole group starts talking at the same time again, and Spencer just looks at Luke and shrugs.

“We did our part, right?” he asks.

“Yeah, we’re good,” Luke replies. 

He takes Spencer by the hand and they walk out of the room.

[blackbird-brewster]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Criminal Minds (US TV), Criminal Minds: Evolution (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jennifer "JJ" Jareau/Emily Prentiss, Tara Lewis/Rebecca Wilson Characters: Tara Lewis, Jennifer "JJ" Jareau, Emily Prentiss Additional Tags: BAU girls' night, Gift Fic, CMGiftExchange23, Fluff, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence Summary:

At a long overdue BAU Girl's Night, Tara asks for dating advice from JJ and Emily.

[This was written as part of the CM Gift Exchange]

A/N: Written for @unitchiefs-blackbirdphoenix for the @cmgiftexchange

Happy holidays, Alyssa! I was so excited to be paired with you this year. I loved your ideas and tried to incorporate a little bit of everything you requested. I hope you enjoy <3

[chickensarentcheap]

For the lovely and extremely talented @come-along-pond​!! Thank you so much for hosting your exchange and allowing me to be part of it!

I hope you like it :)

[arrthurpendragon]

@come-along-pond - july exchange

[masterwords]

for us there is no end

Summary: From an awkward dinner date that doesn't go as planned to fireworks to ring in the new year, come along with Hotch and Morgan as they try to figure out how to do something about the feelings they have.

Warnings: minor injuries (stitches), canon-typical violence (unsub mentions), swearing, food

Pairing: Hotch/Morgan

Words: 6k

Notes: Another year, another holiday exchange, another attempt at outdoing Hallmark with a sappy romantic comedy. This is for @crazinessprevailed in the @cmgiftexchange. I agonized over plot for ages, came up with about 7 different stories, and then when none of them quite panned out the way I hoped...I smashed them together into this odd, slightly chaotic, very out of control trainwreck. HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

...................................................................................................................

“Come out with me tonight,” Derek said quickly, before he lost his nerve. He'd been hoping it would just come up naturally somehow, like they'd just be talking about weekend plans or something and he'd see an opening. The problem was, they didn't really talk like that at work, and he had to get a little creative. And then when that didn't work, because Hotch wasn't exactly prone to conversation when he was trying to review case files before preparing his reports, he had to just blurt it out right there in his office.

And to his credit, Hotch didn't look terribly shocked over it. There was maybe a hint of something in his eyes, some kind of disbelief at what he was hearing, but it passed quickly. He had too many other things going on to add one more to the pile.

“Did you have something in mind?” Hotch fired back, barely looking up from his paperwork. The way he said it so easily knocked Derek completely off of his game. He was just not prepared for this conversation, which was silly if he really considered it. There shouldn't have been an easier conversation in the world. The two of them had years behind them, and though it didn't look conventional by anyone's standards Derek would wager that their friendship (if that was actually what you would call it) was stronger than just about anything out there.

“No, not really...” He'd never been so nervous asking someone out, and he wasn't even sure this qualified as asking someone out yet it had been so bad. At this point he was just trying to make it out of the office without dying. He would definitely not qualify this as a date, not at this point. He blew it. “Dinner, for starters. It's late and I know neither of us has eaten anything. I bet you haven't eaten all day.”

“Yes, dinner sounds nice. I've got a call with Strauss in ten minutes, I'll be leaving after. Would you like me to meet you somewhere?” He paused, finally glancing up at Derek, frowning at the strange nervous way he held himself. “Is anyone else coming?”

“Just us,” Derek answered quickly. “Everyone else had plans tonight.” That was a lie. He hadn't asked anyone else. Hotch didn't need to know that, though.

“Not surprising, it being so close to Christmas.”

(x)

The call with Strauss was, for lack of any other way to describe it, a complete disaster. He'd only been back in his position for two weeks.

Not even a month had passed since Haley's death, and he was back in the hot seat. That wasn't the disastrous part, though. He'd expected that, even looked forward to it...some semblance of normalcy when the rest of his life was spinning so entirely out of control. He didn't know how to be a full-time dad, hell he barely knew how to be a part-time dad. But he was managing with Jessica's help.

No, the disastrous part was that he was expected to attend a Christmas party of the Director's at a country club in Maryland. He'd been hoping they'd grant him some leniency, understand that he was still too raw to be put on that kind of display, maybe even have some compassion and let him be home with his son...but no such luck. He would show up in his tuxedo and they would smell the still wet blood on him, they would flock to him like sharks to a pool of chum. “Agent Rossi has already accepted his invitation, I have yet to hear from you and Agent Morgan. This is mandatory, you understand...there may have been formal invitations, but you don't turn these gatherings down Aaron. Not if you know what's good for you.”

“Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't hesitate but things are...”

“Aaron. You're coming, and so is Agent Morgan. The BAU has had an interesting year and the Director insists on your coming. It's imperative.”

He didn't even agree, he just stopped trying to say no. That was about as much as she would get out of him, that and a promise to talk to Derek.

“You'll impress on him the importance of this party, won't you?”

“I will.”

(x)

Standing outside of the restaurant, Hotch felt his stomach twist. He was ten minutes early, not the earliest he'd ever shown up for a reservation by a long shot, but he felt like a nervous child at a Christmas pageant nonetheless. Anticipation would have been nice, too, it had been years since he and Derek had had a proper meal together without the rest of the team around. He'd be lying if he said he didn't miss it. In the meantime, so much life had happened he almost thought something like this might never happen again. Unfortunately, all of the happy anticipation of rekindling their friendship was lost as he tried to figure out how best to tell Derek he was required to attend a party neither of them wanted to be anywhere near.

“You came,” Derek announced from behind him, hands shoved deep inside the pockets of his leather jacket. Hotch side-stepped and nodded, his own fists balled up freezing inside of his pockets. He tugged the wool pea-coat tighter around him, glancing up into the light snow flurrying in the glow of the streetlamp.

“I did.” He paused, and once more glanced into the darkened restaurant. At its moody candlelight, and he felt that twist again. He couldn't do it. Not there. If he was going to spring this on Derek, he was going to at least do it in a place where Derek would have the freedom to react as intensely as he wanted without fear. “I know you made reservations, and I do love this restaurant, but I was thinking perhaps tonight we could go and eat at Laces Out instead. I'm in the mood for a beer and some stale peanuts.”

Laces Out was a sports bar that the two of them had met up at after work nearly every night in the old days. Sometimes they would just sit with sodas and pretzels and laugh about something Gideon said or did, sometimes they would drown the horrors of the day in a pitcher of beer and stunned silence. Always together, though, no matter what. The look of complete relief that crossed Derek's features at Hotch's suggestion was a balm on his soul. He'd been a little worried to throw a wrench in the night's plans.

“Hell yeah, man. Let's do it. My bike is right up the road, let me give you a lift.”

“In the snow? We can walk.”

“This? Man, this isn't snow. You even seen Chicago in December? This is nothing. Come on, it's not even sticking. Grow a pair.”

Growing a pair, Hotch realized quickly, meant sitting on the wet seat of Derek's motorcycle with his arms wrapped around the other man's waist. They weren't going far, they easily could have walked, but something told him that Derek had a different motive...he was showing off a little. Hotch didn't mind. There was something the two of them had been dancing around a long time, and it almost seemed to be coming to a head tonight. Besides, he carried an extra helmet in his saddle bag and that was all Hotch cared about.

“Hold on tight. Squeeze the life outta me.” Hotch wrapped his arms around Derek's waist and leaned heavy against him, felt Derek's hands tug at his arms until he was latched on even tighter. “That all you've got? I said tight. Do not let go until the kick is down, you understand?”

“Got it.”

The ride was wet, his pants ended up splattered with murky snow water splashed from the street and his shoes were going to need a little extra care tonight in order for them to return to their former glory, but he had to admit it was exhilarating in ways he'd never experienced. Being so completely exposed, no false sense of security from molded steel and a belt of fabric. He was held on only by gravity, like being on the Gravitron at the fair...that and his death grip on Derek's waist. Derek was steady, and the way he tensed beneath Hotch's arms, the way his heart thundered against his ribs directly into Hotch's...

The bike purred to a stop in front of the bar and Hotch did as he was told, he waited for Derek to kick the stand down before he released his grip. That was hard, his hands had locked in place, his back curved for so long around the sublime shape of Derek already ached when he straightened up, stretched it, arched it.

“Told ya we'd survive. Snow.”

“I didn't exactly doubt you.”

“Sure you did. Let's go warm up with some spicy wings, huh?”

(x)

Practically forcing Derek to accept the “invitation” to the Director's party was harder than he'd anticipated, and it came with more than a little guilt. “I know you don't want to go,” he began, sipping his beer. The thick creamy foam stuck to his lip and he let out a little sigh as he dabbed at it with the corner of his napkin. The beer was dark, almost black, and tasted like burnt molasses. It warmed his belly. “But Chief Strauss was adamant that we attend. To quote her, it's imperative we attend.”

“So we did something she's trying to take credit for...she wants us to come perform like her trained monkeys, that it?” He paused and sighed, gulping half of his beer in one go. “Man, I'm supposed to fly to Chicago that night to spend Christmas with my family. I already told her that.”

“I'm not sure that the Director cares much for our personal lives. If he doesn't have one, neither do we. Care to guess how many ex-wives he's got?”

“Hotch...” Derek pleaded, pulling his chicken wing apart absentmindedly. Suddenly his appetite was gone. “Aaron. I promised my mom. I haven't been home in years for the holidays.”

“If you can get your flight changed, even by a few hours, I promise I will get you out of there in time.” It was a big promise, one he had absolutely no business making...and yet here he was, making it anyway. He would simply make it happen, plain and simple. Chief Strauss would be pleased, and Derek would make it home. He could work a miracle, even if it killed him.

(x)

The party was about as painful as either of them had imagined. Hotch showed up right on time, prepared for the onslaught of false sympathy and thinly veiled morbid curiosity. He received the pats on the shoulder and the questions with the same level of vague disinterest, nodding curtly and using as few words as possible to answer the most deeply violating questions. At the far end of the hall was a Christmas tree that was nearly blinding, its height testing the limits of the word impressive, decorated with decadent ornaments and lights that probably cost more than four months rent at his apartment. Beside the tree was a grand piano and a pianist wildly churning out Christmas melodies for the boozed up dancers on the waxed floor.

Hotch would not be joining them, no matter how many times he was asked.

He glanced around the room to see if he could spot Strauss, figuring he should make it well known to her that he'd come. Once he'd accomplished that step, he would try to find Dave and Derek, after which time he would begin artfully crafting his quiet exit strategy. He'd grown up attending these sorts of parties, watching the grown ups schmooze and rub elbows and promise favors and talk votes and tactics and he'd quietly taken note. He could do this in his sleep. Make enough of an impression that he could manage to collect a few favors himself while rarely, if ever, promising any of his own...but in the end he was barely more remarkable than the wallpaper imprinted on the memories of the party goers. There would never be stories told of his antics, never be a moment around the water cooler where people might wonder at something he'd said or done. He knew how to impress and disappear rapidly.

Derek, on the other hand, was already laughing in a crowd of people and Hotch stood back reverently and watched him feed on the attention. His smile was bright, charming, easy. Derek was remarkable. You would never know, from the look of it, how badly he did not want to be at that party. How hard he'd tried to escape it. How he'd even gone so far as to fake a cough on the phone, a last ditch effort. He danced with every old woman who offered her hand, turned them around and around on the dance floor like Prince Charming, until Hotch finally cut in. They stood face to face, and Derek held out his hand in a mock invitation. “You looking for a turn?”

Hotch glanced down at Derek's hand with a smirk, and maybe on another plane of existence he might have let himself take that hand..jokingly (or not so jokingly) dance to “White Christmas”, soak in Derek's warmth. But instead he indicated the grandfather clock perched near the kitchen door.

“Your flight leaves in an hour. If we slip out now, you'll just make it in time.”

“We?” Derek whispered, leaning close to Hotch like they were discussing something important. With a little surprise, his eyes flickered over a point of intense sudden interest: a small scar on Hotch's ear. The telltale remnants of an earring, long since closed over. He said nothing. Just cataloged it for future reference. Hotch...Aaron Hotchner...once wore an earring. That in and of itself wasn't too remarkable, he had lived through the 90s too and had many piercings to show for it, but just having noticed it now after so many years? He was ashamed of himself. He should have been buying Hotch earrings all these years for his birthday. Missed opportunities.

“I'm not staying here. I've had more than enough. Should we be caught, I expect you to follow my lead, go along with everything I say.”

They slipped away from the hall and through the swinging kitchen doors without anyone managing to stop them. Hotch walked so tall and with such purpose that no one even dared approach him, hell Derek didn't even think people were brave enough to try...he simply looked like he owned the place. A few of the cooks glanced up at them as they walked through, but they were all way too busy to care. They looked like they were in the weeds enough as it was. “Through here,” Hotch instructed, holding open another door that led them into a darkened corridor. “There's a stairwell at the end of the hallway that will lead us to the parking lot.”

As it happened, Hotch didn't need to use his backup plan. He'd given Jessica firm instructions to call him at an exact time unless he sent her an all clear message...she was always more than happy to help him get out of these things. She'd been doing it since they were teenagers. Her stories used to be elaborate, sometimes ending in catastrophe. She'd grown subdued as she aged, a fact he was somewhat grateful for though he did enjoy watching her cause a scene in front of his parents' mortified guests. She'd pretended to choke on a shrimp once, she'd started a small fire in the kitchen at the crème brulee station another time, and she knocked over the Christmas tree on his favorite occasion by releasing a stray cat into the home. She'd been hoping for a squirrel or a raccoon, but as she pointed out later, beggars can't be choosers and the neighbors had a handful of feral barn cats.

His parents never did care much for her. Hard to understand why as she ruined their parties and then ran off into the evening with their disobedient teenage son. Haley would roll her eyes at them later, but she would reap the benefits by getting to spend the evening with her boyfriend so she didn't complain too badly.

This time Jess was only going to call and allow him to say they had to do an emergency consult. Simple. No one would question it. But no one even cared, they were all far too busy drinking from the open bar on the Director's dime to notice the defectors. Dave would notice first, but Hotch trusted that he wouldn't rat them out. He would also know that he could expect to find a bottle of scotch on his desk the next day as a thank you for his discretion.

“Merry Christmas, Derek,” Hotch said as he watched Derek slip through the lot toward his bike. Derek turned and waved, shouting a quick thanks.

“See ya next year!” Same joke, every year. Hotch smiled and shoved his hands into his pockets, walking toward his own vehicle. He had things to finish at the office before he could head home. Jack would already be in bed, another hour or two wouldn't hurt anything.

(x)

The team assembling in the conference room three days after Christmas wasn't surprising but they all noticed that Derek wasn't there and were none to happy. “What, he gets to stay on vacation but we have to come? I think the boss is playing favorites,” Emily grunted while Hotch handed JJ the remote. “Just because he's the prettiest one here doesn't mean he gets special treatment.”

“The case is in Chicago, and seeing as he's already there I didn't see any point in making him come back just to debrief and fly back. Do you?” He waited for Emily's smirk to fade before continuing. “He's been sent all of the information and he'll meet us a the police station, he's already there now setting up.”

Emily muttered something under her breath that made Dave chuckle, but Hotch was too focused on the photos on the screen to care much. They had a right to be upset, their time off was being threatened...they already didn't get much of it. But work was work, and people were dying. Serial killers rarely took the holidays off.

(x)

“How was your Christmas?” Derek asked while they sat up their victimology board in the conference room. He'd already prepared most of it, gathered files, talked with the LEOs. Things were organized well by the time Hotch walked in with JJ and Spencer in tow. He'd sent Emily with Dave to the crime scene. “Was Jack okay?” What he meant to say was how was your first Christmas without Haley, but in fewer words. And Hotch appreciated his quiet candor. Everyone else had approached him with kid gloves, skirting around it, insinuating that it must have been a wonderful time with just he and Jack because if it wasn't...well he must have really screwed up. The way everyone expected them to be fine, for him to fall into the role of single parent and Santa Claus effortlessly while still maintaining his job was absurd, but he smiled his way through it and thanked them for their concern. He didn't need to do any of that with Derek. Because Derek didn't want a canned answer, he wanted the gritty details. He wanted to know, and any potential ugliness would not deter him.

“Surprisingly nice. Jack cried less than Jessica and I did,” he said quietly, a little smirk appearing on his otherwise stony features. The case was grim and they were hanging gory photos one by one, but he simply couldn't help feeling at ease with Derek. “We didn't screw things up too badly, overall. There were a few mishaps, some burnt cookies and I didn't realize that I needed to purchase batteries for one of the toys. Overall I would call it a success. A Christmas miracle, perhaps.”

“Great, man. Glad to hear it.”

“It took two of us to muddle our way through what Haley did single-handed...” The mood darkened briefly, and Derek placed his hand on Hotch's shoulder, offering him a supportive squeeze. He didn't remove it immediately, not when he noticed the tears in Hotch's eyes. They were blinked away in an instant. Not at work. Not in front of a board full of victims.

“It'll just take time. I remember the first Christmas without my dad, my mom cried all day. In fact, she cried her way through every birthday and holiday that year.”

Hotch smiled sadly through the threatening tears, and realized somewhere warm inside of him that Derek still hadn't removed his hand from his shoulder. “Noted.”

(x)

The blizzard shut down the city almost completely. Snow was no longer being measured in inches but feet. Hotch understood now what Derek meant by his blatant dismissal of the snow flurries they'd experienced the week prior.

It didn't seem to stop their unsub, though, in fact if anything it made him bolder. Certain that he couldn't be caught because who would come out in this weather? He began leaving bodies in the snow, red drenching white, forcing the BAU to tramp through the stuff up to their knees to view victims. It was two days of terror as people barricaded themselves inside of their homes and Chicago's very own Jack the Ripper owned the streets.

How both Hotch and JJ wound up in the Emergency Room bleeding was a source of mystery to the team until the two of them woke and insisted they were attacked as they walked to get coffee for the officers, and then, when the unsub realized they were FBI he called 911 and fled the scene. Those details might have been important, might even have led to an arrest, if not for a group of people working downtown who apprehended a man covered in blood just a few blocks away and held him down until the police arrived. It was happenstance, dumb luck maybe, brave citizens trying to put an end to the fear. Trying to bring back some damn holiday spirit. They didn't know if they'd caught the unsub or a victim, but they pinned him nonetheless. JJ, the first to regain consciousness, positively ID'd him as the man who attacked she and Hotch...and that was it. Dumb luck. Coincidence. A miracle.

“What are the odds?” JJ asked as she followed behind Emily, an ice pack held gingerly to a gash on her forehead. They had an SUV waiting already, warm and ready to head to Derek's mother's house for a New Years Eve dinner and some much needed relaxation.

“Who do you think you're talking to?” Emily replied with a smirk opening the door for JJ to slide inside. “Ask Reid when we get to Derek's mom's place.”

Derek insisted that he would stay behind to gather Hotch when they released him so the rest of the team could start their partying. With Hotch incapacitated, he was the one in charge so it only made sense that he be around in case there were problems, in case the police needed him. In case. He'd only been out of the role a few weeks, it still felt fresh and real. It was hard to go back to just being SSA Derek Morgan again, though he didn't mind the lack of stress. He'd almost thought he was developing an ulcer for a while and had no idea how Hotch did that job for so long, wanted to continue doing it.

Hotch was awake and fussy, getting stitches in his leg that he insisted weren't necessary. A silly argument, and one he wouldn't be winning. Derek was pacing in the hallway until finally the nurses asked him to come in. “He says you can sit with him if you'd like.”

“He doesn't want me in there with him. He being a pain in the ass? You need some help?”

The nurse laughed and shook her head. “That stringbean? He's nothing I can't handle. He just said he can see you pacing out here and thought he should invite you inside so you'd stop worrying.”

“I'm not worried.”

“Sure, honey. Well suit yourself, come in or don't...we're about to stitch up his leg.”

He followed along behind her dutifully and stood close to Hotch as soon as an opening appeared. “You need me to hold your hand?”

“I was going to ask you the same. You looked a little nervous out there.”

Derek watched as they swiped Hotch's leg with a wet soapy rag and then set to shaving a large patch around the gash they'd cleaned up. Another thing he could make fun of him for later...just wait until they were knocking around the punching bags in Cooper's gym and he caught sight of that patchy leg. The cut itself was gnarly but Hotch didn't seem to pay it much mind, they'd obviously already numbed the area and by the dim look in his eye had also slipped him something to put him at ease. Derek, however, couldn't tear his eyes away...beneath a patch of the hair, he noticed, was a small faded symbol. Some sort of tattoo he realized as he peered closer.

He was willing to let the earring slide, but now a tattoo? It was like he barely knew Hotch. “Dude.”

Hotch glanced up at him, then peered at his leg curiously. “I was a teenager once, too. No one is immune.”

“What is it?”

Hotch frowned. “You know, I don't remember.” Derek didn't believe him, not for a second and the look he gave Hotch said as much. Loudly. “Okay. It's a skull and crossbones, for the play I joined in order to meet Haley. Jessica went through a phase where she fancied herself a tattoo artist.” She'd managed to make a decent wage doing it for kids at school under the bleachers until she got caught. It had paid for a year of insurance on her car and a few pizza dates for she and Haley with Hotch and Sean, a favor she definitely more than owed him for allowing himself to be her guinea pig.

“What did she have to pay you in order to let her near you with a needle and a ballpoint pen?”

“I'd rather not say.” Derek let him shroud that part in mystery, the man was already being far more open than Derek had any right to expect. He could imagine. He'd lived through plenty of his own rebellious teenage years. The payment would seem childish now, or perhaps inappropriate. Whatever it was, Hotch didn't want to say. Instead of prying further, he altered course.

“You let Jessica pierce that ear, too?”

Hotch groaned miserably. “That was the result of a bet I lost to Haley the summer before university.”

“What'd you wear in there?”

The nurse was already stitching Hotch's leg, and he was so engrossed in the conversation (and his humiliation) that he barely even noticed. Derek counted ten stitches by the time she finished and began cleaning up. “A stud with Haley's birthstone in it.”

Derek rolled his eyes and pretended to gag. “How romantic.”

They were being cut loose with instructions to keep it clean and watch for infection before he could ask any further questions about Hotch's mysterious teenage years. They didn't say anything either of them didn't already know. Just the usual. Hotch was pretty sure he could recite it from memory. Keep them clean, keep them dry, keep them covered, watch for infection. Derek insisted on walking a little close once they were out on the ice. “Can't have you falling and busting those stitches wide open.”

“Of course.” Hotch let Derek hook their arms and, without argument, even let Derek open the door to the SUV for him. The passenger door.

(x)

Fran's house was lit up still with Christmas lights, outside and in, and she'd left the tree up for some extra festivity. Derek could remember holidays in the past, especially after his father passed, when the tree was up until mid-January because none of them could bear to let go of the cheery lights. There were ornaments on the tree that they hated to box up, photos framed in popsicle sticks of Derek missing his front teeth and his father in his uniform. His father's badge was hot glued to the front of the skirt on the angel that sat atop the tree and Derek's own badge hung by a little metal hook somewhere among the red and green and white glass balls. Their tree wasn't the kind you'd find in a department store window, but Hotch's first thought was that it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

It was a picture of pure love. The tree put up in his own childhood home was filled with store bought decorations, new each year, depending on his mother's current color scheme obsession. In its own way, he supposed it was pretty, she had an eye for decor...but it was not this.

“You made it!” Fran squealed with delight as Derek led Hotch through the front door, warmth and the scent of cinnamon wrapping them up in a hug that felt like home. “And you brought Aaron with you! Here, I've made you a spot on the couch...oh dear, you're limping...”

“I'm alright, really.” He didn't put up much of a fight when she insisted he sit on the couch with his foot elevated on a pillow perched atop the coffee table she made everyone else use coasters on, and he didn't argue more than a little over the ice pack she lovingly draped over his leg. Derek tried harder than Hotch did to get her not to fuss but in the end, they both lost. Or won, depending on how you looked at it.

“Mom, he's okay. Just a few stitches making him walk like a pirate with a peg leg.” Hotch glared at him, his eyes nothing but slits. He knew very well how pointed that comment was and hoped Derek wouldn't let loose his secret, not so soon. The team did not need to know he had a tattoo, even something so benign. To his elation, Derek didn't pursue it. “Where's the grub? I bet he's starving...”

“You mean you're hungry?”

He gave her as innocent a look as he could muster and she dragged him toward the kitchen. After that, the evening was a swirl of action around Hotch as midnight drew nearer. Hotch had nearly forgotten it was New Years in all the chaos, and while his mind was still a soupy mess from the pills they'd given him in the hospital his leg was starting to throb just sitting there. He wanted to move around. He managed a quick call to Jessica and Jack in time for the ball drop and to say goodnight to his son while the team gathered around the television to watch the New Years Rockin' Eve show and make fun of the bad music they featured.

“Hey, you wanna see something amazing?” Derek asked, leaning over the arm of the couch to whisper in Hotch's ear. “Meet me outside just before midnight. Don't be late.”

Hotch did as he was told, waiting until he thought the time qualified as just before, and then limped out the front door with two glasses of champagne in his hands. No one even tried to stop him. Outside, the city was a blanket of silence, huge snowflakes falling heavy and thick into the street. It was midnight but the sky looked almost gray.

“Hey,” Derek said, beckoning to him to come down the steps and out into the street. “Can't see it from up there. Hurry it up, slowpoke.”

“I'm going as fast as I'm able,” Hotch argued indignantly, clinging to the railing of the stairs while he took the steps slowly. His leg didn't hurt, exactly, not now that he was up and about but it felt stiff. The line of stitches pulled beneath the gauze when he stepped. His sock was pulled high above the gauze, pinning it in place, and he'd even managed to put back on the sock garters. Nothing was going to move those bandages, and yet he still walked cautiously. Some part of Derek wondered if he hadn't put back on all those layers to hide something.

Even moving slowly, cautiously over the slick road in his dress shoes that had no business on ice, he still made it to Derek in time, two minutes to midnight. “What are we looking at, exactly?”

“Wait for it.”

They stood in silence, side by side, in the middle of the street. Above then hung heavy tree limbs shaking snow like powdered sugar on the street, and their attention was focused toward downtown.

And just like that, bright lights showered the sky. Sparks first, red and green and bright white, blue and purple and gold. The shuddering booms followed, one after another, fast and slow, rattling the street beneath their feet. The snow continued falling through the fireworks, nature not one to be outdone by man made displays, and Derek smiled, gulping down the glass of champagne Hotch had brought out for him.

And when he kissed Hotch, when he turned to the side and wrapped the other man in his arms and stole his breath, everything else faded but the rush of blood in his ears and that same feeling of hearts hammering in chests that they'd both felt on the motorcycle. That felt like a lifetime ago. The night he'd screwed up so spectacularly such a simple task as asking someone out, someone he'd been incredibly foolish to wait on for so long. The dangerous way he trusted that Hotch would always be there, that they had all the time in the world. Tonight it was only a few stitches and a stiff limp, but next time it could be worse. He was no longer willing to wait.

Hotch's arms circled his waist, and Derek's fear was abated when he kissed back, when his lips parted and let Derek's tongue slip almost hesitantly inside. The entire world fell away from them.

They didn't notice when Fran's entire house emptied out onto the street behind them to watch the show, when the entire neighborhood followed. They didn't notice until Emily sauntered up to them with the bottle of champagne and tapped on Hotch's shoulder, offering them a refill. They both held out their hands as their lips parted, noses still touching, and smiled. “Thank you,” Hotch whispered and Derek grinned and Emily rolled her eyes and overfilled their glasses until foam spilled out onto the snow. Bubbles fizzed and popped their way out of the glasses and landed in a cascade of lemony sparkles on their skin.

“Happy New Year you absolute morons,” she muttered, shaking her head. “It's about damn time.”

“Emily, I am still your boss,” Hotch reminded her, but she didn't seem to care. And truthfully, right then, he didn't either. There was plenty of time for anxiety and regrets, but with the fireworks screaming in the new year, he felt something that felt a lot like peace for the first time in months. He leaned forward and decided it was his turn to steal Derek's champagne-soaked breath with his icy lips while the entire neighborhood around them erupted in cheers for the new year.

[cargopantsprentiss]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Criminal Minds (US TV), Criminal Minds: Evolution (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jennifer "JJ" Jareau/Emily Prentiss Characters: Jennifer "JJ" Jareau, Emily Prentiss, Michael LaMontagne, Henry LaMontagne Additional Tags: Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Slice of Life, Domestic Fluff, Momily, no spoilers for evolution, Not Canon Compliant Summary:

It still sometimes feels like a life that isn’t hers, like she’s intruding. It’s hard to get her head around: she belongs here.

(For @jemily-in-paris for @cmgiftexchange)

[ocappreciation]

ocappreciation + 2022 oc gift exchange ☃

↳ to: @come-along-pond​ → from: @malice1329

[cmgiftexchange]

‘Twas the night before gift exchange…

Happy giftmas eve! Just a few reminders about posting your gifts:

The holiday season is between 19th-25th. All works should be posted by the 25th. If you’re not going to meet this deadline, please drop me a message.

It is up to you if you want to post tomorrow (19th), wait until later in the week, or post it as a Christmas Day treat.

It is also up to you whether you would like to post your work publicly here on tumblr or on ao3 (or both!), or send it privately to your recipient. If you have been given their ao3 name, you can put in the settings of your ao3 post that it is a gift, and who it is for. If you haven’t, I strongly recommend posting it to tumblr in addition to ao3 - this could be by sharing the link as a post, posting the whole work, or privately dming the link to your recipient. This way they will definitely see it.

Please also add your work to the collection on ao3 if you’re uploading there - there’s an option above the gift recipient info in settings where you can do this. The collection is titled Criminal Minds Gift Exchange 2022.

If you’re sending your gift privately, drop us a message to let us know so we can mark your gift as received! We will also be reblogging all public gifts that tag us in them onto here for everyone to enjoy.

Most importantly, have fun, enjoy your gifts, and be sure to let everyone else in the exchange know how much you enjoyed their pieces - be it fic, art, edits or fan mixes!