#thedoveandtheagent | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sixofpomegranates · 3 years ago

Text

☞ Vincent & Theo

➤Story Masterlist | ➤My Main Masterlist | 18+

CW: Mentions of mental illness, toxic family, financial worries, academic pressure,

**Ellie's POV**

I curse loudly as I hit my big toe on the leg of my bed, trying to reach my ringing phone before the caller hangs up and I have to call back explaining that I couldn't take the call because I tried making myself a marshmallow fluff toast and accidentally set the toaster on fire.

"Yes. Hi. What?" I blabber breathlessly as I pick up.

On the other side of the call, I hear somebody sniffling for a second, then my cousin's weak voice answers, "H-Hi. I- Are you busy right now?"

It is clear to me that Dove has cried. By now, I can hear it in her voice within seconds. Also, I taught her the year we lived together that she could call me whenever she isn't feeling well... Which lately happens more often.

"Nope. What's up?" I ask her, knowing that if I even breathe the wrong way she'll think I resent her for calling me when she needs me.

She coughs a little, probably choking on some of her tears. "I- No. It's- It's dumb."

Not again.

I already bet to myself that my aunt did something to her again. It is always the same. Dove tries being her introverted self, reading her books, painting her pictures, and aunt Aliyah comes and finds a way to crush her spirit like a little bug.

She doesn't like Dove happy. She never has.

"Nothing's dumb. Have you been crying?" I let out a sigh. "What happened this time? Aliyah yelling at you for being blonder than her again?"

Last Tuesday my aunt tried convincing Dove to dye her hair darker, being annoyed by the fact that my cousin has almost white hair while she has to fry hers with bleach every other week.

It's ridiculous and I don't understand what my aunt's problem is.

By now, mom has been fighting with my dad's sister so often that they barely speak to each other anymore. Would be fine by me but that also means that mom and I don't get to see Dove as often anymore.

"I- She threw it away," Dove mumbles, starting to sob again. I begin frowning and sit down on my bed. "Threw away what?" I ask.

"E-Everything," she exclaims. "My paintings, my sketches, the paint- I- I came home from school an hour ago, and everything's gone."

Fuck. Me.

"Why the fuck did she do that?" I ask, hardly managing to control my anger.

Dove is special. At least that's how mom calls it. I always say it as it is, Dove has the mental stability of ice cream in the sun.

Honestly, with that kind of family and all the shit that happened to her, I would definitely be an anxious mess as well. That's why I don't like my aunt, that's why my mom doesn't like my aunt. Aunt Aliyah loves to have Dove like this. A crying, helpless girl she can put down and blame for everything.

The car doesn't start? It's Dove's fault. Aliyah gets a new wrinkle? It's Dove's fault. The weather isn't sunny enough? You guessed it, it's Dove's fault.

The last time I was in DC with mom, we took Dove out for dinner and my food wasn't good. Dove proceeded by completely losing her appetite and apologizing every two minutes because of it. Like she had cooked it and taken care of it tasting horrible. Even after I got a new plate, she still apologized.

This is the kind of doormat behavior my aunt enjoys.

"She says I need to- I need to stop living in a dream world," is the explanation I get.

Dove has little to no hobbies. She likes her books and draws a lot. She isn't really social, her anxiety only making things worse, and studies an insane amount. Taking away the things she is so attached to is like hitting her in the face. Not to speak of how talented she is.

Painting is the only thing her mom never forced her to do or perfect but she got into it when living in Germany with our grandparents.

Mad talent. Seriously.

The last week she has started a new piece with her acrylics. Big canvas, bright colors, and a sketched-out plan of what she wants to do. Half of her notes are basically Latin for me and I don't get them but the end results are always amazing.

"I'm so sorry, Dove," I whisper as her crying becomes more obvious.

What the hell am I supposed to say? I can't even tell my mom because she will throw fists with my aunt and then Dove won't be allowed to talk to us... once again.

Clearing her throat, she quickly says, "Sorry I called you. It's stupid. I'm acting like a baby."

"No, you don't. That was a shitty thing of your mom to do. You like your stuff and she's so cracked that you can already see the breaks on the side of her neck."

I can hear her wheeze at my words and blow her nose. "Did you talk to aunt Cilia because of college?"

"No. Why? Was there something?" I ask, playing oblivious. Dove giggles. "You know what I mean."

"We send my application in yesterday," I tell her, hearing her squeal excitedly. "So she was okay with you coming to DC?" She asks me loudly, and I agree. "Yeah. You and I will go to college together!"

I smile because of it. Dove and I have already planned on living as roommates one way or another and living in DC is definitely the way to go since I'd never get her to leave from the grasp of her mom.

My cousin is naturally smart, she literally has to be since her mom would lose her mind if her daughter isn't perfect. She could go to college everywhere, and yet she decided to pick a college I should manage to get in as well.

There's also the fact that Dove is paperwhite. She could literally use white-out as foundation and the second she is in the sun for more than an hour... She turns red like a lobster, sometimes even with sunscreen. DC weather is definitely healthier for her than our weather in Arizona.

"I'm so excited!" She admits before becoming a little quieter, almost embarrassed. "I got some acceptance letters." I raise an eyebrow. "Already?" "Mom made me apply early." Grinning sarcastically, I say, "Of course she did."

For somebody who never managed to pull something other than getting pregnant as a teen and then marrying a rich racist, she surely is ambitious and living vicariously through Dove's academic achievements.

"Where did you get in? Spill the beans." "It doesn't matter. We'll go to Georgetown anyway."

"I still want to know," I insist, making her sigh. "Harvard-" I interrupt her, exclaiming, "Holy fuck. Really?"

A laugh escapes her. "I'm not done yet. I also got into Yale." "Are you kidding?" There is some silence and then she adds quickly, "And Columbia, Cornell, and Brown."

"Bullshit," I yell, glad that mom isn't at home since she throws her shoes after me when I curse too much. "D-Dove, that's amazing."

"Yeah..." She mumbles.

For a second I think about telling her that I worry about not getting into Georgetown. I am definitely not the smartest, school is unnecessarily hard for me, and I am actually not even sure if I can afford it if I don't get a scholarship.

At least Dove's mom and stepfather agreed to pay for everything. My mom would too but with which money? It's not like we're living luxuriously in the giant palace only a senator can afford.

But I don't. I have to be the strong one for Dove.

"You don't sound happy," I note.

I love Dove, she is my best friend and sister but I can't help my envy. She got into five Ivy League Universities. She didn't even have to try getting into Georgetown, those things come easy to her and her high IQ, and yet she doesn't even sound happy about her achievements.

"I just looked through the mail. Add the University of Pennsylvania, Princeton, and Dartmouth. Big, huge envelopes..." She says, sounding like she's feeling sick.

Eight Universities. Eight Ivy League Universities.

Finally the jealousy bubbles over. "Sorry but I don't get why you're not happy about it. Do you know how glad I'd be to be in your position? Those colleges cost a fortune and are so fucking hard to get in, and you just- You're so ungrateful for the opportunities you have."

As I hear her suck in some air, I feel like kicking myself. Nice, I just let my own frustration out on her.

"I- I'm sorry, Dove," I say quickly. "I didn't mean it like that. I- I was a jealous bitch."

"No you weren't," she tells me, justifying my shitty behavior. "Yes, I was," I answer. "I'm sorry. Really."

"I know I should be glad about those acceptance letters but..." Dove takes a deep breath. "I'm unhappy," she sobs. "I- I don't know what's wrong with me but I'm so unhappy. It- It's like I am drowning – I think. I don't know what drowning feels like but there is no air and no matter what I do, I just feel so, so unhappy."

Mom often says that Dove is in the spectrum for depression and social anxiety disorder, and we both know about a lot of things, bad things. There is definitely more going on in her head than she would ever let us see.

When she begins talking like that, finally showing some of her struggles, I always become worried and nervous... It's always uncertain to see how close she is standing to the edge. She doesn't have a lot to hold on to.

This sensibility course mom let me take traumatized me badly and I would lie if I didn't say I'm scared of Dove, one day, giving up if things don't change for her.

Sadly enough, my father's family, the side of my family that connects me to Dove, don't believe in mental illness and therapy. Which is bad since they ALL desperately need it. All of them have issues.

Dove's mother is a narcissistic monster, my dad is an alcoholic, my grandmother... I don't know a lot since she doesn't acknowledge me or my mom because mom's Mexican. But let's be honest, no woman without some serious issues to the head is that racist and self-righteous.

"Hey, you know what?" I say as chipper as possible, combing with my fingers through my curls. "Once we're at college and we have a room, I'll give you your own painting space. And we'll eat a lot of junk food and stay up late watching your favorite movies on repeat."

I hear her humming happily. "That sounds great. I really hope it will be like that."

"Oh, It will," I assure her. "And next thing you'll know, you're going to be Master of Fucking Arts." "Master of Fine Arts." Dove corrects me chuckling.

I continue, ignoring her correction. "And then you'll move to Paris and become a struggling artist like your buddy Van Gogh."

Since we were twelfth it is always Vincent Van Gogh. I sadly lack the understanding of her love for him and I don't know any other artist she likes. But there is always the hope that she meets a cute guy in her college classes that will get it and have the time and crayons to explain it to me.

Maybe she would then finally drop the fat idiot she is dating – aka running after like a little puppy – since high school. The weirdest trauma rebound I have ever seen, and frankly, the greatest and hardest to get away pain in the butt.

"I'm already struggling," she deadpans. "It must be good to die in the knowledge that one has done some truthful work...and to know that, as a result, one will live on in the memory of at least a few and leave a good example for those who come after."

Yeah. I didn't understand that, so she probably quoted something. Fuck, geniuses are really tough to understand. They have an entire mind palace and my little studio apartment of a brain is always struggling to keep up with them.

"You just quoted him, right?" She hums approvingly. "I'm still sorry that aunt Aliyah threw your stuff out."

She makes an unbothered sound of which I know that it's fake."It is what it is. Maybe she's nicer after seeing my acceptance letters."

"Don't let her talk you into going to Yale though," I warn her jokingly, knowing that my aunt always has had her eye on that college specifically. "Never. You know I'd go to Harvard. They have a great art program."

Now I don't feel jealous, I feel guilty. Dove sacrifices chances like going to a college she truly likes, taking classes and opportunities, so we can live together as we planned as children.

She is a great friend but a dummy. We're soon to be adults. Dove will be eighteen soon and graduation is coming faster than I'd like to.

"You can go there if you want," I tell her, trying to make it sound like it wouldn't bother me. "I'm not mad if you decide on it."

"We already decided for Georgetown though," she answeres innocently.

But how much of it was We and how much was I?

I know I would never be able to get into anything better than Georgetown, so this is the college that was decided on. I'm Dove's only friend, she is the introvert to my extrovert, it's always been clear to me that she will follow me wherever I go, follow the plans I make for us.

"So? Plans can change, and if that art program is-" I swallow some of my shame and continue honestly, "I just don't want you to miss out."

Dove lets out a giggle, playing down the fact that I worry about her turning down shots so we can be roommates. "I'm not missing out on anything if we're together. You're the Theo to my Vincent."

What is it with the Van Gogh references? Whenever I ask, I accidentally get her to ramble for hours but never get it really explained.

Maybe it is the fact that he was mentally ill and still tried to do what made him happy? Dove tries to be like that a lot, this being the connection would only be logical...

"I don't get that one," I admit, making her let out another one of her contagious giggles. "But I do. You're my best friend, Ellie, my favorite person."

I'm jealous of her and still would never want to be in her shoes. She is pretty, sweet, and kind. She is troubled, broken, and in denial. She is my best friend and yet I always feel like a loser next to her. Like nature has put us up against each other but given my younger cousin a head start.

She's my sister, although not biological, and although everything is messy at times.

"You're so dramatic. I love you," I tell her. She and my mom are the only people that ever get to hear that from me. It's something only for my family to hear. Boyfriends be damned until one proves himself worthy.

"It's not dramatic, you're just really the only one who gets me," Dove insists. "Today I felt so lonely, and sad, and tired, but I called you and now I don't feel like dying anymore."

"Because it'll get better once we're in college," I assure her, making her agree hopefully. "I hope so."

I chuckle. Once we're at college there won't be so much pressure on her to be perfect anymore, and the pressure I put on myself to keep up with her will ease up as well. I will get my gymnastics scholarship, she will make her art, we will live our lives and find a bright future waiting for us, molded by ourselves.

I just know it.

"One hundred percent. Pinky promise."

Give me feedback [also anonymous!]

#thedoveandtheagent #spencer reid fanfic

8 notes · View notes

sixofpomegranates · 3 years ago

Text

The Dove and the Agent | Ch.15

✨My Main Masterlist | 18+ | AO3 | Wattpad✨

🕊Masterlist | Soundtrack | Aestethic Trailer🕊

✨previous chapter✨

Chapter CW: Mentions of anxiety/age gap, food/eating, Spoilers for 10 Things I hate about you & Dirty Dancing, Alcohol consumption, drunkenness/tipsiness, some serious pining

**********

"What about the lovers who spend hours staring into each other's eyes? Is it a display of trust? I will let you in close and trust you not to hurt me while I'm in this vulnerable position. And if trust is one of the foundations of love, perhaps the staring is a way to build or reinforce it. Or maybe it's simpler than that. A simple search for connection. To see. To be seen." — Nicola Yoon

I got a group hug.

Wasn't my thing and therefore it ended quickly... But I got hugged.

I couldn't quite understand it either but somehow nobody was mad at me for having been such a downer minutes before. Everyone was nice and okay with me being myself. Me, talking about my book, had even started a conversation about romance novels and movies.

My Professor was so lost it was adorable.

He knew what 'Twilight' was, saying that JJ had told him once that it was about a vampire but there his knowledge ended. He was so smart, knew so much, but pop-culture seemed to have completely flown over his head.

"Okay, Uhm, what about 'Pretty Woman', 'Dirty Dancing', or- or-...?", I giggled, having him shake his head, while he poured me another glass of wine.

"Never heard of it.", he answered dryly.

"C'mon. I mean 'Dirty Dancing' was an absolute hit when it came out in the '80s. You must've been...", I stopped talking right before I could make the mistake of guessing his age but it was too late. He already grinned at me.

"What? I must've been... what?", I quickly shook my head. "No, no. C'mon, Sweetheart. Finish your sentence.", I shook my head again. "Just guess. I won't be mad as long as you don't make me older than Derek."

"Pretty boy, I'm gonna beat your ass if you're not careful.", Derek warned from the other side of the table, and I held a hand over my shockingly amused grin.

Okay, maybe Professor Reid wasn't going to devour me whole, should I guess his age wrong. My mother maybe always lost her mind when I didn't say the correct age she wanted to hear – But he wasn't her.

"Around five?", I finally whispered, and he smiled. "When did it come out?" "'87.", I answered after checking it on my phone.

"I was born '81."

Huh, eighteen years. That was quite the age gap. I hadn't ever even thought about that... Or about the next sentence that left my mouth.

"Means you're older than my mom-... I'm quiet now.", I promptly announced after stopping myself.

Derek let out an obnoxiously loud laugh, making me stare right into his soul. To be fair, there was no chance I could look at my Professor again after having him indirectly called him old.

I had just been surprised. He didn't look forty... Or thirty-nine. I just remembered that I didn't know his birthday.

"Just say you now forbid yourself to talk.", he snickered, and I immediately caved in.

"I'm sorry. I- I didn't mean to make it sound like you're old and I really didn't think about it being weird comparing your age to my mom's. I- Uhm... You're probably as old as my dad- That did not make this whole thing better right now. I- I'm so sorry. I don't know why I didn't think before speaking... twice. I usually even think too much before opening my mouth. You're really not old. I mean, there are so many girls in class, clearly not thinking of you being old and age technically is just a number as long as it is legal and consenting – and I just realized how that sounded. I swear I don't ever think about anyone being interested in you because why should I? It would be stupid. N- Not that anyone wouldn't want you, I mean, you look pretty good – Oh my god, I did not just say that – I definitely don't think you look good. No! No! I mean-"

Professor Reid grabbed my gesturing hand because I had almost hit him, and I looked him in the eyes stopping my rambling.

"Please put me out of my misery.", I begged, hoping he would shoot me before my brain could fully process all the embarrassing things I had just said. Sadly, he just started laughing.

"How are you even still breathing?", he asked, having me shrug.

To be fair, I really wished I wasn't right now.

I had called him good-looking and uno-reversed that statement. Oh, this would haunt me for a while.

"Survival instinct. Like a shark. I stop talking, I comprehend what I just said, and die of the embarrassment.", I stated, and he let go of my hands.

"Now, Dove, I wasn't mad that you pointed out that I am older than your mother. I actually already knew it, given that you told me when she had you and how old you are. I also know that there are plenty of groupies in my classes and am very thankful that you don't think I look like an old man. You maybe phrased your sentences wrong but there was nothing wrong with any of them... Except the one where you took back that I look good. That one hurt my ego a little.", I didn't dare to look at our friends and just nodded.

"I'm sorry.", I said anyways, quickly being waved off. "No need to, little bird.", shoving my glass away and grabbing the bowl of grapes to eat, I felt my cheeks stopping to burn.

"I should stop drinking. Makes me blabber nonsense.", I mumbled, Professor Reid, nudging me with his elbow. "I liked it. It was fun to see from an outsider's perspective for once."

Yeah, just that he would ramble about cool interesting things, and not about me being hot.

"So, I was six when the movie came out.", I nodded, humming approvingly. "Maybe your mom watched it."

Suddenly his bottom lip twitched a little, and he cleared his throat. I had made him uncomfortable.

"I- No. My mother read more when I was little.", he said softly, having me no longer feeling like he wanted this conversation.

So many stupid things I had said but this seemed to have hit him. Oh god, maybe his mom was dead and I just reminded him of that. This was exactly why I didn't have any friends. I never thought before speaking and hurt everyone around me with my ignorance.

"I'm sorry- I- I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.", Professor Reid quickly chuckled. "No, no. Everything's fine. I'm sorry I am such a boring conversation partner.", I almost cut him off with my fast answer. "You're not boring."

"You're sweet but I know I can get boring. My knowledge in pop-culture is limited."

"We could talk about things you like.", I offered, having his eyes light up. "You know you don't have to, right?" "But I want to.", I assured, having him blush at his next words.

"I like 'Star Trek'." "You're a Trekkie?", I exclaimed surprised, and he nodded.

"Lame, I know. Have you ever even seen it?"

Shaking my head, I tried not to giggle on accident, making it seem like I would make fun of him. He already seemed prepared for some mean jokes on his behalf.

"I'd watch it with you though... If you watch 'Dirty Dancing' with me."

My offer didn't seem too out there, right? It just were movies.

I didn't really care for Star Trek – only ever having watched Star Wars and not knowing if my thought about them probably being similar didn't offend thousands of fans – but my Professor probably also wouldn't care about Baby and Johnny falling in love.

"Sounds like a plan.", he whispered very on board, and there I say excited? So I quickly informed him about the ground rule. "But we have to watch it twice. Once so you get the story and the second time to sing along and yell at the screen."

"Sounds like a lot of work...", he sighed, making me think I had already made him shy away. Then he smirked. "Only if you also watch 'Dr. Who' with me."

Okay, if he was bargaining with me, I would too.

"With a bunch of takeout.", Professor Reid nodded, leaning closer. "Chose a country and I provide the food."

Watching a movie – or seven – started to sound way better than sitting here and just talking about it. Just as I wanted to answer again, Emily interrupted.

"You two are not bailing on us, right?", she asked, Tara joining her. "Yeah, you sound like you're more into watching a movie than getting drunk."

"Not that big of a drinker.", my Professor admitted to our friends, who seemed very aware of that. "We know, Spence.", JJ said, and Rossi, while pouring himself another whiskey, started talking over the others.

"If the birthday-girl wants, we have Netflix and popcorn. I won't be mad if you decide to watch a movie instead of drinking with us old folks.", I instantly shook my head.

"I- I- No. Thanks, but that would be rude. You guys put in such-"

"I'm gonna head home now anyway.", Derek interrupted, helping sleepy-looking Savannah out of her chair. "Wife and baby need their sleep.", Matt nodded. "And I'm gonna take JJ home to her family and then take the nightshift so Kristy gets some sleep."

"Makes seven of us who gonna stay here.", Tara concluded, and I tilted my head. "Were staying here?" "We do that a lot when there's alcohol involved.", Emily snickered. "So responsible.", she and Penelope had drunken the most. "Yeah. I packed your go-bag.", Penny chirped, half asleep, most likely contemplating if she should go to bed.

"And- And that would be okay?", I asked our friends again, just to make sure. Emily nodded, grabbing a bottle from the table and getting up. "Sure. I'll just claim this wine, steal one of Rossi's cigars and call it a night."

Rossi got up after her, starting to clean the table.

"You can come to the lounge room with me and we smoke one together.", he told her, then looking at the rest of us. "You guys are, of course, welcome too."

Like I was used to, I stood up and helped cleaning the table.

"I- I think I take the offer and watch a movie.", I quickly said before the courage would leave me.

Rossi smiled, patting my shoulder, and accidentally made me flinch as I was not used to gestures like that.

"Your choice, Principessa. Spencer, you take care of her?"

Professor Reid nodded as if it was a natural thing for him but I didn't want him to think he would need to babysit me... Or worse, feel obligated to spend time with me.

"I wouldn't mind if you'd go with the others.", I told him as he took the cheese plate from my hands.

"No chance. You promised me 'Pretty Dancing'.", he said, making me raise my eyebrows. "It's 'Pretty Woman' and 'Dirty Dancing', and you know it.", at my giggle winked at me. "Caught."

The table was cleaned within minutes. We said our goodbyes to most of the team, with Penelope bringing me my go-bag and telling me where our room was since she was going to bed, and Rossi giving us a quick instruction on where everything was should we want more snacks.

"So... Popcorn?", Professor Reid asked once we were alone, and I nodded excitedly. "Uh-huh.", I looked down at my clothes. "Uhm... I'll change in some sweats and we'll meet on the couch in ten?", he nodded, walking back into the kitchen. "Kay, Sweetheart."

Sweetheart. I really liked being called that.

I bolted into mine and Penelope's room and changed into my pajamas. Coincidentally exactly the same that I had worn when I had slept over at my Professor's apartment. Black sweat pants and my crop top with daisies on it. After contemplating for a second, I also took off my makeup and washed my face.

Coming back into the living room, I was met with a surprise.

"Who are you?", I asked loudly, Professor Reid standing there with a big bowl of popcorn and dressed in red plaid pajama pants and a grey, washed-out Caltech shirt.

"I thought we were going for casual.", he chuckled, sitting down in the middle of the large U-shaped couch, resting his feet on the, there placed, matching footrest.

"You're wearing your pajamas.", I stated, following his gestured request to sit down next to him. He had always been Dr. Fancy-Dressed since I knew him.

"You too.", touché. I giggled and just looked at the, on the coffee table sitting, chocolate, chips, water bottles, and wine. "Even got us a blanket should you get cold.", my Professor whispered over my shoulder and as his arm touched mine, for the first time without layers and layers of clothing, I swear my heart stopped beating for a second.

When it started beating again, I chose 'Dirty Dancing' and quickly felt the need to explain myself and the movie before pressing start. My anxiety really liked making small things into big ones. This suddenly was more than just watching a movie with Professor Reid.

What if he didn't like it? What if he hated it? What if he started thinking of me differently because I liked this movie?

"Okay. First things first.", I started, looking at him as my anxiety dizziness set in. "This is supposed to be a very romantic teen movie. It's written by a woman who is the original Baby – That's our main character. She had her own Johnny – the male main character – but they didn't end up together. I know, shocker.", my Professor's gentle look seemed to make things only half as bad as my anxiety made it out to be.

"So she wrote a fantasy version about this relationship she had?", he asked actually interested in what I told him. "Yeah. It's kinda like a fanfiction about herself and an ex."

"What's fanfiction?", I grinned at him.

"We don't have time to unpack all that.", I giggled, leaving him a little confused. "But anyway, it's a little corny, it's a little bit of a 'coming of age'-thing, and a lot of dancing looking more like dry humping. It's nothing to twerking and everything else my generation considers dancing... but yeah.", I lifted the remote. "Ready?"

Professor Reid nodded. "Put it on, Sweetheart."

*****

This was fun. Like, really fun.

I had been so sure that watching this movie twice would be a waste of time but Dove's way of singing along to it and yelling at the screen when she got annoyed with a character was fun.

I knew what it was all about and which scenes were coming, so I could join her badmouthing Robbie and sing with her to 'Hungry Eyes'.

That was definitely her favorite song of the entire movie. Yes, she was extremely theatrical and dramatic singing to every other song too but that one also came with hand gestures and moving her feet to the rhythm.

I loved that she had started to let her guard down, the second time watching had Dove with all the lively energy she had to offer, even daring so much as to sing in my direction without blushing.

She couldn't even react to my age hours before that without asking me to shoot her.

As the time came and 'Nobody put Baby in the Corner', she actually had gotten me to let my guard down as well. I swung from side to side with her, singing to 'Time Of My Life' and watching everybody jump around and dance.

Thankfully nobody but Dove was there to see that.

"We could totally pull that off.", I commented at one point, having her laugh as Johnny lifted Baby over his head. "You think?", I nodded promptly. "Absolutely."

When the movie ended for the second time this evening, I was finally allowed to give my two cents about it. Dove looked at me with her pretty blue eyes and a smile worth a million dollars.

"So... How did you like it?", she asked as I handed her her glass of wine. "Corny but cute. I get why it was so popular.", at my answer she clapped happily.

"Yay. And now? W-We can watch 'Star Trek'."

I shook my head, taking my whiskey glass and leaning back again.

"Put another one of your movies in." "Are you sure?", she asked uncertainly, having me chuckle. "Sure. But next time you're at my place there will be a lot of Indian food and a massive 'Star Trek' marathon waiting for you. Okay?"

She nodded excitedly about me saying that there would be another movie night for us. Little bird would probably regret it once I had her watch every single 'Star Trek' movie and the entire series.

But having her show me the movies she liked also allowed me to see a little bit of her character and just maybe I wanted her to see me too.

"Have you ever seen '10 things I hate about you'?", she asked, zapping through the movies and stopping at the one reading the same title.

"You know the answer, little bird.", I told her, and she nodded.

"Okay. I love that movie. I had a massive crush on Patrick Verona when I was younger and always wanted to be like Kat. S- She doesn't care what others think and says what's on her mind... It's also a 90's Rom-Com version of William Shakespeare's 'The Taming Of The Shrew'.", I raised an eyebrow.

"Now you have my interest." "I knew that's how I get you."

My little bird had this way of getting me interested in these movies although I couldn't care less normally. It was the joy she had explaining something, how she smiled, and lastly still was willing to rather watch something I knew I would like. Given me the option of denying her.

Of course, I could never. These moments where she was mostly unafraid and just herself were beautiful and made it easy for me to mirror this vulnerability.

"Blanket, please.", she whispered, putting our glasses on the table and pressing play. I grabbed the fluffy blanket and wrapped her in it, surprised as she leaned against me.

"Cozy?", I asked, and she hummed happily. "Super cozy."

"You know...", I started, scared I might sound too pushy or weird. "I'm not much of a TV-watching kinda man but I think I could get used to this." "I always watch the same stuff but it's nice not having to watch it alone for once.", she replied, and I took a leap of faith.

"Well, I have a TV, a couch, and lots of free time. We could be TV-Buddies."

I already thought she would reject my offer... Well, reject me like Dove would, agreeing to it hesitantly and stuttering, looking like a frightened bunny but she nodded, a slight smile on her lips that became bigger over time.

"I'd like that...", she whispered then. "And you know how to make popcorn."

From there on we watched the movie semi-quietly. Some small comments from time to time and Dove just speaking along some of the lines. I didn't mind, it was cute, but whenever I wanted to look at her during it, she instantly became quiet.

"I want you, I need you. Oh baby, Oh baby.", this time I was quicker than she was quiet. "Okay. How many times have you seen that movie?", I asked, earning a playful grin that had been worth all the attempts to look at her. "Like... a hundred times minimum?"

Chuckling, I laid an arm around her shoulder, surprised as she rested her head on mine.

From there on we were quiet again until Kat got drunk and Patrick had to get her away from the party. Just as they sat down on the swings, Dove looked at me.

"Hey, Hey, Professor.", she giggled, tapping my chest to make sure I would look at her. As I did, she and Kat spoke at the same time. "Your eyes have a little green in them."

"Just waited to drop that line, huh?", Dove looked shortly away and back at me again, playing shy. "Maybe..."

I chuckled, her face inches away from mine and me realizing that I had drunk too much because the soft pink of her plump, heart-shaped lips, for the first time ever, seemed to be calling my name.

For a second she looked at me with a thought that appeared similar to mine, especially after my tongue had darted out to wet my lips.

Thankfully there was no indulging in the moment, the sound of Kat throwing up calling us back to reality.

"Did- Did she just throw up?", I asked as if it would make the sudden change of atmosphere go away. Dove supported that idea ever so thankful. "Right on his shoes.", she answered, grabbing her bottle of water and handing me mine as I reached for it.

No more alcohol tonight.

*****

Oh, wow. That had been weird. So weird.

I clearly had drunk way too much.

For a whole second, I could've sworn that Professor Reid had purposefully brought our faces so close together and I couldn't help but stare at his lips as his tongue licked over it.

Maybe the slightly drunk version of myself was a little bit less objective when thinking about her Professor...

Bad, bad drunken Dove. We don't thirst for Professor Reid. That's weird.

Neither of us spoke about it, so clearly I had imagined the atmosphere changing.

Stupid wine, makes me wanna do stupid things. If he wouldn't have spoken about Kat throwing up, I probably would've moved even closer just to see what he would've done and the worst thing was that this intoxicated brain of mine would've been up for... a lot of things.

This was definitely not who I wanted to be. I just couldn't be like this, so I wouldn't.

For the rest of the movie we sat there quietly but agreed with Bianca punching Joey because we hated him with the fir of a thousand suns. With the movie, this night seemed to also end. Given that we both had started to yawn half an hour ago, it probably was for the best.

At his request, I let Professor Reid clean up the table and stayed on the couch waiting until he was ready to go to bed... In separate rooms of course. I just wanted to wait for him.

When everything was cleaned, he pulled me up on my feet, folding the blanket and laying it on the couch. Then we walked upstairs, me stopping in front of my room.

"Thanks for watching some movies with me.", I whispered. A little sobered up, my brain was no longer thirsty but shy again.

"Please, I really enjoyed it.", my Professor smiled back, nudging my arm. "TV-Buddy."

I opened my bedroom door, Penelope snoring loudly.

"You sure you can sleep with that?", he asked me chuckling, and I nodded.

"I just get her to lay on her side.", stepping in, I turned around again. "Well, Uhm... Goodnight, Professor." "Goodnight, Dove.", he whispered, starting to walk to his room as I closed the door behind me.

Making Penelope roll over, I laid down next to her and made myself comfortable. The room was still spinning a little bit, but that was it.

My phone lit up on the bedside table and after thinking about it for a few seconds, I looked at it. It was a message from my Professor.

"Quick heads up: Tonight was only phase 1 of your birthday celebration."

"Phase 1? Tell me your room is spinning too."

"Traditions, Sweetheart. Tomorrow they'll force us to go clubbing. And yes, spinning a lot."

"I don't go clubbing. I normally go to bed early and read a book."

"Sorry but tomorrow you're not. Me neither if that helps."

"At least something. But old men need their sleep."

"Brave, given that you also called me good-looking tonight."

"... Hearsay. No proof."

"You should sleep now, little bird."

"I wanted to sleep but YOU decided to text me."

"Okay, my fault. Now go to sleep."

"KK."

"Goodnight, Sweetheart."

I really couldn't understand how Professor Reid managed to still like me and be nice to me but I was very glad about it. With a stupid, dopey smile I replied.

"Goodnight, Spencer. Thank you for liking me."

"Nothing to thank me for, Dove. You are very easy to like."

"Shhhh! I'm already sleeping. ZZzzzzZZzzz"

"Then one last time: Goodnight."

"<3 <3 <3"

Putting my phone away, I nuzzled into my pillow. Painfully aware that drunken Dove was crushing a tiny bit on her Professor. Sober, regular Dove didn't approve of the lovesick behavior and thoughts but didn't necessarily say something against it.

And I knew why.

Give me your feedback [also anonymous!]

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed)

@sweetandsunny @krystalynn-kelly

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid slowburn #professor reid slowburn #spencer reid smut #professor reid #professor!reid #spencer x oc #spencer reid x oc #fem!OC #criminal minds x oc #spencer x fem!OC #original female character #criminal minds angst #spencer reid angst #TD&TA #thedoveandtheagent

21 notes · View notes

sixofpomegranates · 3 years ago

Text

➤Story Masterlist | ➤My Main Masterlist | 18+

☞ Part 1

Give me feedback[also anonymous!]

#tdata #thedoveandtheagent #spencer reid fanfic

7 notes · View notes

sixofpomegranates · 3 years ago

Text

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚘𝚟𝚎 & 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙰𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚝 — Extras

➤ My Main Masterlist | ➤Story Masterlist

☞ 𝙾𝚗𝚎-𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚜:

Vincent & Theo

☞ 𝚂𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝙼𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚊 𝙿𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚜:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

☞ 𝙰𝚍𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙶𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚖:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

#thedoveandtheagent #spencer reid fanfic

7 notes · View notes

sixofpomegranates · 3 years ago

Text

➤Story Masterlist | ➤My Main Masterlist | 18+

☞ Part 1

Give me feedback[also anonymous!]

#thedoveandtheagent #spencer reid fanfic

8 notes · View notes

sixofpomegranates · 3 years ago

Text

The Dove and the Agent | Ch.14

✨My Main Masterlist | 18+ | AO3 | Wattpad✨

🕊Masterlist | Soundtrack | Aestethic Trailer🕊

✨previous chapter✨

Chapter CW: Mentions of canon typical violence/bullying/emotionally abusive mother/TOXIC family/anxiety/mental illness/children/college, books, clumsiness, cooking/eating, pining

**********

"Strange as it may seem, I still hope for the best, even though the best, like an interesting piece of mail, so rarely arrives." — Lemony Snicket

After coming home on Wednesday evening, Emily had given us the days off until Monday — as long as there weren't any emergencies of course.

Penelope had yelled at me and Professor Reid when picking me up from the hanger, lecturing me about not going on solo missions and the Professor about watching after me better.

Once her original anger and worries were gone, she had hugged me and quickly realized that I had come home from my first case with an injury. After almost starting to cry and smacking Professor Reid's injured chest, she had calmed down and since then and fully taken on her role as my 'Cat Mom'.

I admit, it confused me and weirded me out but she was actually being like an older sister or mom to me. Right now, she was bandaging my left arm and wrist with, a little stiff, neon-pink bandages to make me a little more immobile.

It was now Friday and I had nineteen times in the last 48 hours cried out in pain. I would grab a book or twist my arm while stretching and quickly regret the day I was even born. Then I'd just simply forget I was injured about an hour later and make the same mistakes again...

"You're cutting off my blood circulation.", I told Penelope but got shushed.

Nodding happily with herself she started to pack away her first-aid kit while I stared at that eye-catching pink color. I knew Penny loved pink but I wasn't a fan... Mom loved pink when I was younger, always forcing me into pink clothing, painting our walls pink, and having pink furniture.

It was like 'Fifty Shades of Grey', just with pink colors and psychological torment instead of sex. My brain couldn't even focus on the color. I swear, I went cross-eyed every time I tried looking at it.

"So. Now get dressed.", I looked at the bully blonde confused. "We're going to Rossi's for our monthly dinner.", she told me extremely happy, and I shook my head.

"I- I don't know... I- Can't I just stay home and read?"

Penelope tossed one of my plaid skirts and a tight sweater at me... I guessed that meant no.

*****

Rossi lived in a Mansion. Not a big house, a giant Mansion. One that reminded me of my stepfather's in Miami.

As much as I wanted to have my own place though, I wasn't envious though. Big houses were worth nothing when all alone. I preferred sleeping on Penny's couch and having company over getting lost in my own four walls at times.

Still impressive though.

When we arrived I felt like something was off. Having anxiety, I always felt like something was potentially wrong in most given moments but this time I was very sure something was up.

Penelope was tapping away on her phone, her neon green nails making dozens of small sounds during it. She also didn't let me out of the car, trying to distract me with music she thought I'd like given my Spotify playlists she forced me to share with her weeks ago.

When she then, after four songs, got a message, we were finally going inside. My astonishment at what was awaiting me, let me react by having a loud giggle escape me.

"Surprise!", the entire team yelled as Penelope dragged me inside the large, open living room area that was probably bigger than any of my future apartments would ever be.

There was a huge banner saying 'Happy Birthday Dove' hung up, surrounded by clear balloons filled with colorful confetti.

Penelope started to happily shake and hug me from the side while I just stared at them, my brain already preparing me to have them say 'Sike'. There was no way they wanted to celebrate my birthday with me. Except for Aunt Celia and Ellie, nobody had ever wanted to.

"Oh no. I think we broke her.", Derek chuckled, having me realize that he was here with Savannah.

"Hi.", I replied to the entirety of people I'd love to consider my friends, and they laughed, greeting me in the process.

As my eyes looked around the happy people, Penelope was quick to hand me a glass of sparkling wine and pull me more into the group since my introverted self had still stood right there where I had been surprised.

"I- I don't understand...", I mumbled in disbelief, eyes locking with Professor Reid's hazel ones.

"It's your birthday party, Dove.", he explained as if this gesture was the most normal thing in the world but seemed to understand my brain being unable to comprehend it. "We always celebrate our friends' birthdays."

An almost inaudible "Thanks..." left my lips, almost crying because they seemed to think of me as a friend, and I was escorted into the kitchen where some pasta and ingredients were awaiting me.

"A little family tradition is that every single one of us had to prepare their own pasta dish once.", Rossi clarified. "You're one of us, Principessa."

Me cooking wasn't much of an issue... But cooking with people watching what I did let me start to shake like crazy. My anxiety quickly made me feel something I could only describe as stage fright.

"You don't have to, little bird.", Professor Reid whispered over my shoulder while I earned sympathetic smiles. My shaking seemed to have become too obvious.

"Yeah, zero worries. Spence never cooked either.", I looked from JJ to my Professor, and he shrugged and nodded for an answer. "I only saved you guys from food poisoning.", he laughed, and I looked at him.

"But it's a family tradition.", I repeated Rossi having Professor Reid grin cockily.

"You'd be surprised about all the things you're able to get out of if you only know how to." "I really don't work well under pressure.", I whispered in his direction, hoping nobody except him would hear it. His eye wandered down and focused on my bandaged hand.

"Does it still hurt?", my shaking of the head was not taken seriously. My Professor pulled me to the stove and kneeled down pulling out another pan. "I'll help Dove.", he announced to our friends, Emily being quick to throw a packed cheese at him, which he caught.

"That's against the rules, Reid.", she lectured him, having him carefully lift my arm. "She's hurt and therefore I won't take any criticism.", he said, then looking at me as he let go of my arm. "That's quite a color.", I nodded at his objection. "Penelope.", I giggled, having him nod. "My brain can't even focus on it."

"Pretty boy is breaking the rules for pretty girl. Now that's new.", Derek chuckled, having the Professor blink at me. I, of course, knew he was 'Pretty boy' in Derek's vocabulary but the unfitting 'Pretty girl' for me seemed to have come as a surprise.

"Pretty girl, huh?", he asked me jokingly while I gave him an awkward, closed-lip smile and nodded. "And I don't break the rules. I'll just... bend them a little. I'll help when Dove needs me and meanwhile I'll cook the dish I was supposed to make years ago.", Derek lifted his arms at that, rendering himself defeated.

"You don't have to.", I whispered to Professor Reid, him leaning closer to hear me.

"I don't mind it but I'll have you taste it.", he assured me. "Now c'mon. The faster we cook, the faster we eat and can give you your presents.", I blinked at him confused.

"Presents?", I asked, and JJ laughed. "It's your birthday, Dove.", while the Professor started to heat up the two pans in front of us, I nodded.

"Y- Yeah. But-", I must've looked anxious since Matt quickly tried coming to the rescue. "Don't worry. We let Spencer take care of that.", Tara nodded agreeing. "Yeah. Not like he would've let us done anything without his supervision anyway."

At Professor Reid's nudging, I quickly put some oil into the heated pan in front of me, adding some small diced bacon and onions.

"Just for the record, I was a little overprotective and worried about this evening since I didn't know how your anxiety would handle it.", he told me, mirroring me with the oil and the onions.

I didn't like surprises normally but this right here seemed nice. Once the first scare was gone and I would get used to this scene, I bet I was going to enjoy it.

"He annoyed the crap out of Emily because she wanted to buy you a leather jacket.", Luke chuckled, and Emily nodded, emptying her wineglass.

"Yeah, he was all like 'Oh, Emily. Actually, technically, we don't know if my precious little bird likes leather or not. I also don't want you to buy her clothes either.'", Emily began mocking, and I could see my Professor starting to blush as I put some pasta into my pan.

"I- I did not call her that.", he tried stuttering, quickly changing the subject as he looked at my pan. "H-How are you so fast?"

"I'm not fast, you're slow.", I replied unnecessarily sassy. "Sorry. Didn't mean to-" "She's right, Reid. You're slow.", Rossi laughed. "And your onion is burned."

Professor Reid cursed under his breath and tossed some ground beef and tomato sauce into his pan, once more mirroring me as I put some parmesan into mine. As I then cracked an egg into the pan and mixed everything together he gave me an angry glare.

"You don't even need two hands to crack an egg open.", he muttered almost insulted, and I started to laugh, turning off my place on the stove and started cleaning up the plates I had used. "And there I was trying to help you. Could've told me you know how to cook."

I stepped next to him, watching him cut a little chili, thinking it would save the mess in his pan, and throwing it in before almost touching his face. I quickly clawed into his arm.

"Hands. Wash them first.", he nodded, turning his back to his pan and doing as I suggested. "Uhm... Professor?", I asked, and he turned back to me. "Yeah?", he looked down at me, tossing in the rest of the pasta and stirring around in his slightly off-looking pasta.

"I- I often had food poisoning as a child.", I stated, earning some laughs. "You trying to imply something about my pasta?", nodding at Professor Reid I handed him a fork.

"I- It has black specs in it.", I whispered, and he nodded. "Those are the onions.", he explained, making me look at him. "They are black." "Just a little darker.", he waved me off.

"A little darker than what? Coal?", I giggled as he turned off the stove. "I'm sorry that not everyone can single-handedly whip up a five-star dish.", he countered, handing me the fork back.

He looked at me hopefully, obviously wanting me to taste whatever he had planned on making. I hadn't been joking, there were pitch black little pieces of coal in his food. Suddenly I understood why his fridge had been empty and he wanted to order out when I stayed at his place.

My smart Professor with all his Ph.D.'s and BA's couldn't cook.

"You don't have to try that disaster.", Rossi joked, Emily joining the jokes and Professor Reid just standing there and taking it. Nobody meant it with any ill intent and my Professor made some jokes himself but I still felt a little bad for him.

"You have to taste mine too.", I told him, taking a fork full and praying that the meat was at least no longer raw.

It was.

Yeah, that was bad. I chewed a while, holding back the gagging while our friends just waited and Rossi even handed me a small bucket.

"You know you can spit it out, right? I won't be mad.", Professor Reid told me but I shook my head. I swallowed the food and grimaced my face, quickly emptying my glass of sparkling wine.

"She didn't even gag. Pretty girl is hardcore.", Derek laughed in surprise, while I wiped away a tear.

Oh, that had been bad. I greedily emptied the glass of water I was provided with by my Professor too. This taste was going to haunt me for a while.

"I'm okay.", I assured everybody, putting my fork into the sink. "You got a little green.", Professor Reid noted but I only smiled. "I can handle it. Come on, don't hold back."

"T- The raw meat really- It really balanced out the charcoal onion taste.", I said lastly, and he nodded. "Was still raw... Kinda forgot that that could happen. Sorry I made you eat it."

Puppy eyes. This man seriously gave me puppy eyes. This was definitely the cutest thing I had ever seen and for a second I believed my heart to skip a beat. Blinking a little and shaking my head I forced myself away from this look.

"I-I'm fine. Just- Just taste mine.", the Professor nodded, grabbing a fork and a full bite.

His eyes went wide and he made a very happy and surprised sound, nodding at the food as if having a conversation with it. As he was swallowing his first bite he already took the second one.

"This is amazing.", he just quickly stated.

"You think?", I asked while he wrapped an arm around my waist pulling me to the pan and feeding me the already ready fork. "Oh, wow. For improvising that's really good."

"Uh-uh. Just admit you knew what you did.", Professor Reid chuckled, eating some more. "The bacon is amazing. God, that's good."

"Technically you should eat your own, Kid.", Rossi said, having my Professor shake his head in protest.

"Dog food.", he told the team as Tara tried to convince Luke to take a bite from it and the rest of the team tested my pasta.

"More pepper. I should've used more pepper.", I told myself, but everyone decided to tell me in unison that I was wrong and it was great.

"I'd pay money for that.", Professor Reid said louder than the others, and I giggled.

"Good to know but that was pure luck. I had a 50/50 chance that this would flop. When I have a bad day I even mess up ramen in a cup.", he pointed at his pan.

"That's what I cook on a good day."

"The walking single-man-cliché, huh?", I joked back but he nodded very honestly. "Given that romance novels, these days, have men making heart-shaped pancakes and romantic candlelight dinners... I will probably starve alone, chewing on a can of Campbell soup. All I can offer are PBJ's."

"What's that?", I asked, and got a bunch of surprised looks. "Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.", Tara said as I frowned.

"I have literally never heard of that.", I admitted, given the looks I got I really seemed to have found a hole in my knowledge.

"Your mom never made some for you when you were little?", Matt asked, having me shook my head. "It's such a classic thing to make for kids. Mine eat them all the time." "Same here.", JJ agreed.

"M- My mom never really cooked much when she was even at home and her family is from Germany, maybe that's why I don't know it. Is- Is that even good? I really can't imagine it to taste good.", I frowned.

As Professor Reid's hand left me and he stepped away, quickly making me miss his warmth. I followed him with my eyes to the fridge.

"Dave, can I raid your fridge?", he asked, and as Rossi nodded began smearing two sliced of toast. One with peanut butter and one with jam.

"I thought the J was for jelly?", I asked, and my Professor shrugged. "Potato, Potahto.", I nodded giggling. "Oh, okay. Tomato, Tamahto.", he laughed at my answer.

"Crust or no crust, Sweetheart?", he asked me, sticking the slices together, knife ready to cut. As childish as it sounded, I loved when he called me 'Sweetheart'. It was nice, I had never had a so sweet nickname. Pun intended.

"No crust. Crust is gross.", with that Professor Reid cut off the crust and ate it while handing me the heart-shaped remains.

I took a bite from it and looked at these hopeful puppy eyes again. This was really good. A little salty, a little sweet, and easy to eat. I could see why children seemed to like that.

"I like that.", his eyes lit up with that. "Really?", the Professor asked.

"Better than pancakes and way better than your pasta.", taking another bite I grinned at him. "Then there is the tiny percentage chance of me not dying alone."

*****

I couldn't wrap my head around it but when talking to Dove it always felt like it was just the two of us. I wanted to actually kick myself a little because of it.

There I was, telling myself not to see Dove as anything else but a student and friend, and the next second I called her Sweetheart and made her a heart-shaped PBJ. Treating her this sweetly was just so easy and the way she smiled and continued to stay at my side made it seem like she enjoyed getting this attention.

To be fair, she probably deserved being a little spoiled. No chance in hell that her family ever pampered her, called her nicknames, or handled her with care. She didn't even know what PBJs were. Having never eaten one was one thing but she had looked at Tara as if she had made a bad joke when telling her what it was.

Dove was precious. Even without thinking of my skipping heart, I wanted to give her the world. Pure-hearted girls like her deserved it.

We had eaten before Dove's arrival and Penelope had made sure they had eaten too. So when the kitchen was cleaned, the pasta was eaten — the one I made, being safely stored away in the garbage — we sat down in the living room.

Everyone was talking to each other, just Dove looking a little out of place, staring a little at her glass of white wine, and listening to the others talk. I sat almost across from her on the white, large U-shaped couch our glances meeting sometimes and awkward smiles exchanging.

"Sweetheart, huh?", Morgan asked chuckling as he sat down next to me, handing me a glass of whiskey. "I don't know what you want from me.", I quickly said. "You call her 'pretty girl'." "But for me it's platonic." "For me too."

Morgan raised his brows and laughed at me.

"Yeah, that's why you shared a fork with her and Emily said she was even allowed to drink from your coffee.", I knew this would come back to be used against me. "B- Because... She's a friend.", I stuttered, trying to explain myself.

Derek was quick to look right through it, he hopped up and tried pulling me close.

"A friend, huh? If that's how you treat your friends...", he puckered his lips and tried forcing a kiss onto me. "Well then give me a kiss, lover boy." "Stop that.", I exclaimed, trying to get away and he began laughing. "Scared your little bird sees us?" "Don't call her that.", I now hissed at him, and Morgan quickly let go of me.

"Okay, chill. For someone not fancying her you sure are whipped.", he chuckled, and I shook my head. "I just like caring for her. She's very sweet.", Morgan nodded. "Totally whipped."

"Don't let him annoy you, Spencer.", Savannah said, sitting down next to her husband, hand on her baby belly. "He's all over Dove when she's at our place. He and Penny basically adopted her a few weeks ago."

"Because she's a little like a smaller, blonde version of pretty boy here. Not talking much, hiding behind her books... I just want to socialize her as I did with him.", Derek said, resting his hand next to Savannah's on her stomach.

"Does she spend a lot of time with you?", I decided to ask carefully, and Savannah shrugged. "The training with Derek, she's with Penelope all the time, and sometimes she falls asleep on our couch while learning and crashes in the guest bedroom."

Derek nodded agreeing as I just imagined her falling asleep while going through the massive amount of study materials I gave her. The first thing on Monday was to cut that down by half. I had been way too petty when I gave her them.

"Kid is light as a feather. Two more years and Hank can carry her to bed. She's scared of kids by the way.", I looked confused at Morgan. "What?" "She avoided Hank at first most of the time and got super anxious when talking to him. They get along now since we used the squirrel tactic.", Savannah saw my look and smiled.

"When you want to befriend a squirrel you hand it tiny pieces of food to gain its trust. Hank brought her 'A Series of Unfortunate Events' and asked her to read it to him, armed with gummy worms."

"Weird. She has three little brothers.", I mumbled after her explanation.

"H- Hi.", I looked up to Dove standing in front of me, holding a book. "Can I annoy you a little? Emily is talking about... Sex-stuff and her ex and I kinda felt out of place."

"You're not annoying us at all.", I glanced at the book in her hands. "You brought 'Lolita'?", she sat down next to me. "Penelope said you'd be here and I thought we could talk- that was stupid I-" "No, no, no. Not stupid. Really good idea. I love talking about books.", she smiled at me, handing me her book.

As I flipped through the pages pink, heart-shaped sticky notes caught my eyes.

"Are you already done with it?", Dove shook her head. "Only halfway... It's kinda gross and I want to smack H.H. every two sentences."

"I know, he's awful.", I chuckled. "I like your sticky notes." "In a few chapters, I switched to flower-shaped ones because the hearts made all of it a little grosser. Then I remembered the artistic double meaning of flowers and got grossed out even more, and starting at chapter fourteen I just used regular square ones.", Dove grimaced her face a little, and I nudged her a little.

"Ready for this book to be over, huh?", the little bird giggled in response. "I can't believe my generation romanticizes that story." "Because they never read the book or are too ignorant, Sweetheart.", scrunching up her nose, she nodded. "Stupid youths."

"So young and already so bitter.", I chuckled, having Dove nod approving. "Gotta start early. I plan on becoming a crazy cat lady when I'm old."

"No partner and kids?", she shook her head. "Kids don't like me." "Hank likes you."

"At the moment.", my white-blonde student began to mumble. "And in the next one, he scratches, hits, and bites me, telling my mom I hit him to have her yell at me and all just because I read while watching TV with him."

Funny. I had questioned why she was fearing children when she had three little brothers. Turns out that that was exactly why. As terrible as it sounded, I couldn't even blame her brothers for their behavior. They probably just treated my little bird like they saw their parents treat her.

"Just unlocked a childhood trauma, huh?", I asked a little forward, and she nodded.

"One time, the twins got mad at me and threw all my books on the ground peeing on them. Had to throw them away.", then, within a second, she quickly shook her head, trying to blame herself. "Sorry. I- I don't know why I told you that. I'm so whiny, making it sound like I'm Cinderella. I have too many books anyway."

Heartbreaking that she was convinced to deserve that treatment. Having her things destroyed and not having the right to complain about it.

"Printed friends.", I answered. "That's what I call them."

"I have five moving boxes full of books and only two with clothes.", she admitted almost shyly, and I grinned at her.

"Men love well-read young women." "No, they don't. They like cheerleaders and preppy girls.", Dove countered, having me laugh. "I said men, not boys."

A pretty and smart girlfriend that loved to read and talk to you. Only a child or a complete idiot wouldn't be able to appreciate someone like her. Her hurt face let me however assume that she only knew those types of the male species.

"Wanna see a magic trick?", I earned a sassy little grin. Apparently, she was a little cheeky once she got used enough to someone. "Does it involve making my trauma go away?", I rolled my eyes, licking my lip.

"Magic trick, not therapy, little bird. But it will make that frown go away.", clapping her hands, she smiled at me. "Then show me, Houdini."

Sitting up in looking directly at her, I quickly pointed to her right.

"Look over there.", as she did so, trying to figure out what I wanted to show her, I pulled a little box out of the pocket of my cardigan. Dove looked back at me and directly at the box. "Happy birthday.", I whispered and she took it.

After opening it, her glance fell upon a delicate, golden belcher bracelet.

"A bracelet?", she asked as I took it from the box and clasped it on her left arm, over the hideous bandages. "A lucky charm bracelet.", I corrected her, making her frown.

"B- But there is no charm on it...", she almost whispered, not sure if she was sounding too greedy or ungrateful.

I looked at her for a second and played confused, patting down my trousers as if I was looking for something.

"Oh my... You're right. Now, where is...", I looked at Dove as if I was a little annoyed at her. "Dove, c'mon. You could've said something.", I lectured and pulled the little, golden bumblebee from behind her ear.

"The bee-pin!", she exclaimed as I chuckled and clasped it on her bracelet. "I had it made to a charm. A little replacement for your coin and wrapped around your arm it's harder to lose."

As she looked at it I knew she liked it, these ocean blue eyes couldn't hide anything. Yet, there it came. A wave of guilt as she didn't believe to deserve a gift.

"Thank you... But it's too much.", she mumbled as I waved her off. "Just a lucky charm."

"You don't even believe in them." "Wear it and prove me wrong then.", I answered, winking at her, and a true, lovable smile spread on her lips. "Thank you."

I had spent the whole of yesterday talking to the police station in Miami and to the crime scene cleaner. Nobody had seen her quarter and even if, they had probably thought I was crazy. So I had come up with the lucky-charm bracelet.

She seemed to believe in luck and little talismans, so who was I to ruin her naive purity?

Parting with this little bee had been the easiest thing in my life so far. Dove radiated a happiness that was worth more than a pin on my tie... And the bee suited her better anyway.

"Wanna have me tell the others to prepare your cake? I told them to play it safe and so we have a simple one with vanilla frosting and a bunch of toppings to put on the pieces yourself. I wanted to make sure you wouldn't get worried about having to pretend to like it should it not be your taste.", thankfulness reflected in her eyes.

"Thank you. I- I really worry about things like that a lot.", 'Oh, Sweetheart, I know.', I thought to myself.

"Do you like candles?", I asked gently smiling, and she nodded. "How about fountain ones?", quickly she shook her head. "I'm scared of them.", glad that I had been a little overprotective, I nodded. "Already figured but JJ bought some just in case."

*****

Note to self, my little bird loved fruits like cherries, strawberries, and grapes. This was important knowledge as I was now able to have her snack a little over the day, making sure she ate enough.

She also liked sprinkles and everything sour. Gummy worms, sour patch kids, little lemon cakes. She had completely forgotten her piece of cake, snacking her way through the plates in front of us.

"You know you're supposed to eat some cake too and not just the toppings, right?", I asked as she bit from yet another strawberry.

"Sorry. I just like strawberries and grapes and everything else. This is really great. Thank you.", she exclaimed to the entire table while Emily began laughing. "Fuck, you're so polite."

"You're very welcome, Dove.", JJ told her smiling as I quickly pulled Dove's piece of cake close since Luke had eyed with it for a few minutes now. "Yeah, I love birthdays.", he chuckled.

"Can we give her our presents, Spence?", I nodded, forcing a piece of cake into Dove's mouth, making her giggle appreciative.

Tara handed her the birthday card we all had signed with the 250$ gift card inside it.

"We wanted to buy you some books first but Reid pointed out that we don't know which one you already have... So a gift card seemed like a smarter choice.", Savannah explained, having Dove look at us bewildered.

She truly never seemed to have a real birthday party.

"That's- I- Are you sure that's for me-" "Nah. It's actually for the other white-blonde Dove that just turned twenty-two.", Luke chuckled.

A crying little laugh escaped Dove as she hid away her teary eyes with a smile. This evening had officially been worth every penny spent. Looking at our friends, they thought exactly the same.

"I just got really excited about all the books I'm gonna get to buy. Thank you guys so much.", she cried, and Penelope shoved a tiger-striped present in front of Dove.

"That's the second one. Here.", she told Dove who already played with the neon-orange bow. "I wonder who packed it.", she whispered sarcastically, and everybody chuckled. Garcia's style surely was one of a kind.

Inside the eccentric packed present were tons of pens, journals, sticky notes in all shapes and colors, and a planner with stickers to decorate it with. All was themed cohesively with paintings from artists like Van Gogh, Rembrandt, and Monet on it.

This had been Penelope's idea, so I hadn't seen any of it yet but Dove seemed very ecstatic.

"You're always taking notes so stationary was a given. I also remembered that you almost majored in art a year ago so-", the bubbly blonde began but got cut off by me. Had I just misheard something?

"Wait. You almost majored in art?", Dove nodded. "Then — and please ain't get me wrong — what were you doing in my classes?"

"Mom let me pick my majors when I first started college and I was a little quicker than expected too but then she read an article about art majors being just hippies and people without a future so she wanted me to switch majors. I actually would've only needed to take the finals and would have gotten my BFA — Can you imagine me as a Bachelor of Fine Arts? That would've been so cool.", Dove giggled and then shrugged as she married her own wish for her mother's.

I had seen her drawing, knew she was smart and talented... But my little bird had almost been Bachelor of Fine Arts. Given her smile, she would've probably been very happy about it. It seemed to have brought her joy.

God, her mother made me sick.

"But yeah. I looked for new majors and already liked psychology. You were one of the most recommended Professors and after auditing your class once I booked my classes. No biggie."

"I'm recommended?", I asked flattered and surprised, Dove giggling and shaking her almost white curls.

"Yeah... I- I just later figured out that the whole auditing your class thing was just a scheme for girls to check you out and recommended actually means nice to look at. Which is a shame because your classes were by far my favorite."

Feeling myself starting to blush, Emily whistled.

"Reid has fangirls.", she chirped, and I shot her an annoyed look before looking back at Dove.

"What was your auditing class? I- I really can't believe I didn't see you.", she smiled at me. "There are always about one hundred students. No chance I would've at stood out."

"You look like a Game of Thrones character.", Tara blurted out, eating a grape, and Matt nodded. "Spencer would've definitely remembered you."

Dove let her head fall back and groaned a little pained.

"Not the Game of Thrones thing! Ellie always made me dress up as Daenerys when she went to conventions with me.", Savannah laughed at that. "Probably made some fanboys really happy, Pretty girl."

"Ew... I never even watched Game of Thrones. I didn't even get through the first book without being bored.", my student tried to save herself from the implied topic.

Once the laughs had ebbed away, she looked at me again.

"By the way, the one with the pictures of the Black Dahlia, Elizabeth Short, and what the way she was mutilated said about the killer- unsub. That was my auditing day."

Oh, I remembered that chaos of a day. It was awfully fast to see who had just dropped by to hear me talk and who was actually studying to work in the field.

"I made some girls throw up that day...", I admitted while Rossi laughed. "And that made you enroll in his classes?", Dove nodded.

"I loved it so much. Ellie actually had to listen to me for the rest of the day about it because I got so invested. I really wanted to come to the next classes too but then I found out about these other girls auditing and thought it was kinda weird. So I just waited for my classes to begin.", she told the table and I admit I felt a little proud.

Seemed like not everybody auditing came just to stare at me.

"The Decan actually forced me to make my class a little tamer after that day.", I laughed, Dove shrugging. "Total shame. I still have my notes from that day." "You were only auditing." "So?" "You didn't need to take notes." "It was super interesting."

"If you want, I'll lend you some books about the case. I made a bunch of notes in the margins though.", I offered, watching her eyes grow wide. "Pretty please. I'm actually more excited about the notes now."

Tara handed out the next round of wine while messing up Dove's curls laughing.

"Dove, I love you but you're a nerd.", she started, making the little bird blush. "I know... But I could listen to Professor Reid rambling about cases for hours. It's the coolest thing ever."

"So I'm cool?", I inquired, and she nodded happily. "Totally." "Huh. Took me almost forty years but I'm finally cool.", I told our friends, Luke laughing the loudest at that.

"Reid, you can never let her leave. She's literally the only one willing to sit through all your rambling and still thinks it's cool." "Because it is.", Dove told him, and he winked at her. "Whatever you say, Princessa." "It really is.", she tried saying more convincing, looking at Luke like an angry kitten, ready to scratch.

That was when Rossi leaned forward a little, hand wrapped around a glass of scotch, looking like a grandpa getting ready to tell a story to his granddaughter.

"Have you ever heard of Tommy Yates aka 'The Womb Raider'? Reid and the rest of the team helped me writing the book about him.", Dove shook her head, instantly invested in his words. "Yates targeted Caucasian women, having a pattern of targeting high-risk victims such as prostitutes and drug addicts, then shifting his focus to low-risk victims like college students and soccer moms, with the victims always in the same age range as him."

The table went quiet as we all remembered Yates, Dove's voice breaking the silence.

"I know it's a wild guess... But does he have that name because he stabbed the victims in the... You know... Lower regions?" "Pretty good guess actually.", Rossi chuckled. "Who did he substitute these women for? His mom?" "Grandmother.", he corrected as she nodded. "If you want, I have some copies of my books in my office. You can have them."

Dove looked at him me and then at Rossi surprised.

"Really? I- I avoided them til now because I didn't know if it was weird when I..." "I only came to the FBI because of his books.", JJ told her, and Rossi got up. "And I feel very honored if it contributes to your education. Come on."

Walking to his office Dove almost bolted after him, almost tripping over her own feet and giggling at her own clumsiness.

*****

While Dove was out of the room the looks on me became rather irritating. When Morgan once more made kissing sounds I rolled my eyes.

"Stop that.", I told him, while Tara chuckled. "She is so fascinated by you. It's really cute."

"She just likes the subject.", I answered while Luke jokingly punched my arm. "Then you're her favorite subject."

"You guys are annoying.", I stated while JJ smiled at me gently. "You know they're only doing that because you get so defensive about it, right Spence?"

Of course, I knew that. I had an IQ of 187. I was a genius. Even with my lack of social skills, I knew that me getting angry just egged them on more. Childish.

"I just don't want you to think of her as one of my groupies.", I now confessed, Luke, being quick to mumble. "We don't... But the other way around..." "I already told him he's whipped.", Derek blurted out, Savannah hitting his chest but the other laughing.

"I think you two would make great friends. She seems to have a lot of the same interests as you and you feel comfortable talking to each other.", JJ smiled, and Penelope began hoping evidently on her place. "Oh my God. Yes! Imagine you both just hanging out and talking about books or actually going out on the weekend. That would be so healthy for you."

"You treat me like a nursing case.", I groaned but was defeated at Emily's following question. "When did she last leave the house just for fun after breaking up with Max?"

Oh great. I had stumbled into the hermit-talk again.

"Define fun.", I answered cockily but Emily was quick to shut me down. "Not just book shopping and going straight home to read them." "I like buying books.", I grumbled, Matt laughing at me.

"Please, you only go outside to buy them because you refuse to learn how to use Amazon.", shaking my head, I argumented. "I want to support the local bookstores... And yesterday I was at the mall."

"Why?", Penelope asked, and I shrugged. "Just for fun." "Bullshit.", Emily barked, making me answer nonchalantly while fixing my tie. "If you really need to know, I bought a birthday gift for Dove."

I earned a couple of 'What a surprise'-looks and Emily continued to interrogate me.

"And before that?", hitting the desk I barked back at her. "Fine. I don't go out much. Happy?"

Dove's soft giggle as she walked through the archway with a couple of books instantly switched my mood again.

"I don't go out much either. What are we talking about?", she asked putting the books and her presents on a neat pile on the desk.

"Spencer being a hermit.", Penelope snickered, having Dove nod approving. "Oh. Same. I'd love to live in a house far away from others. Just me, a bunch of books, and some cats.", as she walked up to her seat next to mine I noticed her walk was a little off.

"See? Perfectly normal... Hey, why do you have a limp?" "It's nothing.", she waved me off but Rossi came in handing her a bandaid and a disinfecting wipe, enlightening me on her clumsiness.

"She tripped over two stairs while reading."

My eyes snapped at Dove who looked up from disinfecting her right knee and gifted me an apologetic smile.

"You shouldn't read while walking.", I lectured her as she looked away again, sticking the bandaid on her knee. "I know that now...", she mumbled as I leaned down to, to take a look at her knee.

"Did you hurt yourself badly?" "Nope. Just hit my knee. Will probably be another few bruises for my collection.", she giggled shrugging, probably hoping I wouldn't worry too much.

Even if I'd wrap her up in cotton, my little bird would probably still find a way to hurt herself.

"Your kinesthetic is so messed up.", I chuckled, looking at her, at the knee ripped, tights and she nodded. "Another reason to take you to a gun range. Next time you maybe accidentally shoot yourself."

"That would be bad.", she snickered in reply, opening the book she had still with her and pointing at a word.

"Hey... Uhm... What's vivisecting something?", she asked me, and I wondered if that had been what was going through her mind when she tripped.

"Dissecting a human or animal while they're still alive.", she scrunched her button nose. "Ew." "You asked.", I chuckle, and she nodded. "Still gross."

As appalled as she looked, there was still an interested spark in her eyes. The type of spark probably needed to survive in a job surrounding death... Technically, we were all a little weird.

"There are pictures of the cases in the middle of the book.", I told her, and she was instantly flipping through the pages. "No way.", she exclaimed, and her nose turned again at the pictures. "Ew.", she whispered leaning closer.

I pointed at some of the pictures, enjoying this rather weird bonding moment, but sadly we weren't alone.

"Okay. Okay. Dove?", Emily grabbed our both attention. "We're celebrating your birthday. Put the books aside and drink with us.", she told her motherly, Dove instantly closing the book and me feeling a little mad.

"Oh. Yes. Sorry. I- I'm not good at the whole socializing thing.", Tara waved her off. "Don't worry. Now tell us something about yourself, so we can get to know you a little more."

"There's not much to know about me. I mean, the interesting stuff you guys already know."

I already prepared to jump in and help Dove. Her fingers were playing with her book and she struggled to keep eye contact. Should her anxiety start acting up, I'd be there.

"What about the books you're reading? You know, the romantic ones?", Garcia threw in, seemingly wanting to help just like me. "Penelope...", Dove whispered a little embarrassed.

"You read romance novels?", JJ asked, everyone seeming more aware of her struggling to talk than I'd thought at first. My little bird nodded. "Not the tacky ones though... And mostly it's not even novels it's more like... I don't know..."

Her voice became small again, probably thinking we would think of it as boring or embarrassing. Maybe even bullying her for liking something. God, had her family messed her up.

"What's the last thing you read?", Matt carefully asked, everyone, smiling friendly at the fragile girl. "I- I'm still reading it... It's 'Love Letters of Great Men'. I always read one when I feel like bleaching my eyes after 'Lolita'."

"And it's just letters?", JJ asked, having Dove nod a little more confident. "Yeah, a collection of love letters through time. Like letters from Napoleon, Voltaire, and Beethoven."

Penelope patted Dove's shoulder calming while chatting and taking some pressure off of the small white-blonde.

"She's a Pisces. That's why she's so romantic.", oh, the zodiac discussion. If I wasn't careful Garcia would pull out my birth chart again and drag me for being a Scorpio.

"I'm not romantic. I just think that it's a shame that we, as a society, stopped appreciating written letters confessing true, deeply felt love and are okay with replacing them with a heart emoji.", Dove said, this time even without stuttering.

"True. Men ain't shit anymore.", Savannah agreed, Morgan, widening his eyes at his wife's words and then looking at Dove. "You better change the subject."

The laughs at the table seemed to really help Dove to adjust and feel welcomed to openly talk

"Do you have a favorite letter?", Rossi asked her, and that sweet smile popped up on her face again. "Beethoven's third letter to his eternally Beloved."

"You're a dramatic romantic then...", I noted, faintly remembering the letter. Dove nodded at that. "Pisces.", Penelope started once more, Emily shaking her head confused.

"Beethoven wrote three letters to a woman he only ever referred to as 'his eternally Beloved'.", Dove began to explain to our friends. "They were found between his things after his death. They were not addressed to anyone specific nor were they dated with a year. It is unclear whether or not the letters were ever even sent, or if they were sent and might've been returned."

"What do you think?", I asked my little bird, making her chew on her bottom lip while thinking.

"Given what he wrote, I think he never sent them. It's clear that whoever he was falling for was younger than him and he was very aware of the age gap. I think he was very much in love with her but chickened out of sending the letter because he was too scared of the response."

"So you don't think she sent the letters back?", pure heartache spread on Dove's face. Yeah, totally not a romantic.

"That would be so sad. Why would she do that?" "Because she didn't feel the same?", my argument made her shake her head.

"I would've still kept the letters." "But that would've just kept him in suspense, thinking that she felt the same.", a whiny sound left her lips as she frowned at me. "Don't ruin this for me.", Dove cried out, and I lifted my hands surrendering.

"God, I want a love letter.", she added giggling. "Doesn't even have to be a good one. Just having someone put in the effort and try... People rarely make an effort surrounding me."

Looking around, into the faces of our friends, she smiled.

"Thank you for this whole birthday party. I- I really appreciate it... I- I mean, my mom didn't even call or sent a text, and you guys even got me a cake and a banner with my name on it... I never had one of those and- and- I'm sorry. I'm so depressing. Must be a sugar low."

This pretty, happy facade hid so much loneliness. When I looked at our friends, I knew they had seen it slip too. All of them painfully aware that this little bird had just been shoved out of the nest, no one ever caring if she was even able to fly.

"Dove?", she looked up from her hands, at me saying her name. "Hey, would you mind getting hugged?"

When she shook her head I pulled and her chair closer, arms wrapping around her.

"I want too!", Penelope protested, and I pulled Dove a little away. "You think you're ready for a group hug?"

Give me your feedback [also anonymous!]

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed)

@sweetandsunny @krystalynn-kelly