#when i sent tara this prompt i had imagined something in line with—

[snelbz]

Life As We Know It {Chapter 19}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Occasional surprise chapters could be posted at miscellaneous times. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara’s blogs! >> @tacmc.​

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

A/N: Well, we promised a chapter today, so we decided to follow through on that. Even if we did post a surprise chapter last night. Oh, well. Enjoy! 🙃✨

Cassian sighed as he opened his eyes.

Another year older, another year wiser.

Well.

Another year older, anyway.

He blinked as he looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand. 7:58. Two minutes before his alarm would have gone off.

He hated when that happened, when his mind woke him up just before his alarm went off. There was no time to go back to sleep, it was perfect sleeping time wasted.

It was bullshit.

With a yawn, Cassian swung his legs over the side of his bed and got up. He stumbled to his dresser and pulled on a pair of sweatpants, just in time for his alarm to go off.

“Fuck you,” he muttered, quickly turning it off before flinging open his bedroom door.

It smelled delicious.

He meandered down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Nesta was icing a giant cake.

Her eyes darted to his.

He blinked.

“Get out!” she ordered.

“What the hell are you-.”

“Out!” she ordered, yet again.

Nyx babbled something at the top of his lungs that closely resembled, YEAH!

He did as he was told, blearily blinking as he stumbled back into the living room. He dragged a hand down his face. “Can I at least have some coffee?”

“In a minute!” She called and he heard quick footsteps, followed by the back door opening and closing. It opened again and she said, breathlessly, “Okay. You can come in now.”

Tentatively, Cassian rounded the corner and he found Nesta placing a platter of cinnamon rolls on the counter in place of the—

“Where did the cake go?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

Nesta was lifting a cinnamon roll onto each of the plates in front of her, cutting the one for Nyx into tiny bites for him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He blinked again, half-wondering if he’d imagined the decorated monstrosity he’d seen on the counter, but he sniffed, smelling the air again.

It mostly smelled like the sweet and spicy scent of cinnamon, but—

No, that was definitely cake he smelled.

“Right…” he said, pulling forks out of the silverware drawer and setting one next to each plate. “You’re up early.”

“Had a lot to do before renovations start this morning. I’m meeting Helion and the contractor at the restaurant at nine.” She sipped her own coffee, not looking at him. Mixing truth and lies, it seemed, since he knew she was meeting the contractor this morning. As for a lot to do, he knew everything at the restaurant was already taken care of. She cleared her throat. “I wasn’t expecting you to be up so early either.”

Cutting into the gooey cinnamon roll, he said, “I gotta be at the bar in an hour. I’m talking with Kallias this morning before my shift starts.”

She set her coffee down and finally looked at him. “You have to work today?”

“Yeah,” he replied, popping the bite of pastry into his mouth. He resisted the urge to moan. “It’s Tuesday. I always work on Tuesdays.”

She hesitated, deciding whether she should speak or not. “But it’s your birthday.”

He couldn’t stop his smirk. He knew there had been a cake.

“And who told you that?” He asked, leaning over to wipe Nyx’s face off. The poor kid had icing all over his face, all the way up into his hair.

“That’s not important,” she said.

“Elain, then,” Cassian went on with a grin.

Nesta pretended like she hadn’t heard him and took a giant bite of her cinnamon roll.

“I’ll take Nyx with me to the bar,” Cassian said. “Viviane texted. She has the stomach flu.”

Nesta cringed. “That sucks. I...wait - you’re taking a baby to a bar?”

Cassian shrugged. “He’ll be fine. I only have to stay until two or so.”

“A baby,” she repeated, blinking. “To a bar.”

“You prefer to take him into a construction zone?” Cassian asked. “One that you’re in charge of? That sounds stressful.”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “I can ask Elain to watch-.”

“I’m taking him with me and he’ll be fine,” Cassian said, shaking his head. “I promise.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes. And he held up both hands. “I promise,” he repeated.

“Fine. But call me if you need to and I’ll come get him,” she sighed, shaking her head. “I’ll be in my office most of the day, so it’s not like he’ll be running around in a construction zone.”

“And I’ll take the carrier and physically wear him all day, so it’s not like he’ll be running around the actual bar.”

Nesta groaned. “Fine. Fine. But take the pack-n-play, his monitor and toys. He can entertain himself well enough.”

“Okay,” Cassian nodded, finishing off his cinnamon roll. He pulled Nyx out of his high chair, who was now playing with and wearing most of his food, rather than eating it, and said, “I’ll give him a bath while you get ready.”

“Okay.” He was nearly in the living room when he heard, “Cass?” He turned and looked back at her, still not completely used to the familiar nickname from her. She was blushing slightly. “Happy birthday.”

Smiling, he said, “Thanks,” and turned to head up the stairs.

Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad after all.

*

“Any birthday plans?”

“You’re looking at it.”

Kallias chuckled as he observed Cassian, a wiggly baby strapped to his chest, counting the liquor bottles that lined the wall.

“How old are you anyway?” he continued, wiping down the bartop. “Thirty? Thirty-one?”

“You wound me,” Cassian muttered, scribbling a number down on his clipboard, not bothering to tell Kallias just how close to thirty he was getting to.

“I would say we should do shots to celebrate your big day,” Kallias began, taking Nyx’s outstretched hand. “But, I think your little housewife would disapprove.”

Cassian snorted. “If Nesta Archeron ever heard you call her such a thing, you’d lose a very important body part.”

“Not interested in that, thank you very much,” he muttered. “She ever gonna stop in, so I can see this terrifying woman you’ve told me about?”

“About that…” Cassian pulled Nyx out of the carrier and carried him into the back office, setting him down in the play pen. Grabbing the baby monitor, he made his way back into the front room.

Kallias looked up from where he was cutting limes at the bar. “About what?”

He leaned a hip on the bar and crossed his arms over his chest. “Nesta is going to be expanding the restaurant, adding a bar. That’s actually where she is right now, why I’ve got the kiddo with me. Didn’t really want him in a construction site.”

“Hot nanny couldn’t keep him?” Kallias asked, grinning.

Cassian rolled his eyes. “No, she’s sick. But, uh-.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m gonna be leaving and going over there, managing for her.”

Kallias eyes widened. “Oh. Shit.”

“Yeah. And I’d like you to come over there with me. Be my assistant manager at the new place.”

Kallias stopped cutting, mid-lime. “You do realize we are two out of five people that work here, right?”

Cassian nodded, slowly. “Yeah, I do. And I also know we can hire more people here.”

Kallias looked back down at his half-cut lime. “Assistant manager, huh?”

“It’s in a great part of town, we’d get amazing tips on top of already being paid more,” Cassian said. “It’s an amazing opportunity.”

“So I’d be stupid to say no, then?” Kallias asked, continuing to cut his limes.

“Incredibly stupid,” Cassian agreed.

Nyx’s happy babbling came through on the baby monitor.

“I’ll think about it,” Kallias said, at last.

“Think about it, then tell me yes, because I’m not going there without you,” Cassian said.

Kallias snorted. “You’re a shitty liar. You’re going, whether I go or not.”

“And why wouldn’t you come with me?” Cassian asked, facing his friend. He and Kallias had worked together for years, since Kallias came in at twenty-one, during his senior year of college. “You want to be stuck in this dive bar forever? I know you. You’re a creature of habit. If I leave you here, you’ll be here for the next twenty years.”

Kallias didn’t bother telling him it wasn’t true. He just shook his head. “I guess we better start interviewing people, then.”

*

The day did not go as planned. Cassian had to stay and help out until nearly five-thirty, and by the time Cassian walked in the front door, Nyx was knocked out cold in his car seat. He gently set it down and unbuckled him, carrying him into the kitchen. It smelled divine, like roasting herbs and cooked veggies, even if he couldn’t see anything radiating the delicious smells.

Nesta was also nowhere in sight, so he took Nyx up to his nursery and laid him down, setting the baby monitor back up where it usually sat. He slipped the screen in his back pocket and made his way back downstairs, hurrying out to his truck to get Nyx’s diaper bag and the folded up playpen.

As he was setting it back up in the living room, he heard the sliding glass door open and close and made sure he was making enough noise to alert Nesta of his presence.

“You’re home,” she said, leaning on the doorway. “Nyx asleep?”

“Out like a light,” he said, tossing the few toys he’d brought with him back into the pen. “He had fun though.”

“Good. Dinner is almost done,” she smiled. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“Starving,” he sighed and took another deep breath in. “It smells amazing.”

Turning, Nesta walked back into the kitchen. “Steak, garlic mashed potatoes, roasted carrots and green beans, and homemade rolls.”

He watched as she took the carrots and green beans out of the oven and placed them next to a plate of steak she must have just brought in from the grill.

Cassian’s mouth was damn near watering.

He looked at the spread as she spooned the mashed potatoes onto his plate. “I think I’m in love with you.”

Nesta tensed, then something like nervous laughter sputtered out of her mouth. “Well, I had to cook red meat for you on your birthday.”

“Does that mean you’ll be having yourself a steak, Archeron?” he asked, taking the full plate from her outstretched hands.

She gave him an amused look. “Hell no. You get both. I have a chicken kabob on the grill.”

Cassian licked his lips as he took his plate to the table. “Consider me a lucky man. Thank you.”

“Of course,” she said, clearing her throat. She piled her plate high with potatoes and veggies before going onto the deck and coming back with a grilled chicken kabob on her plate. She sat across from him. Cassian’s mouth was already full.

“How is it?” Nesta asked, cutting up a carrot before popping it into her mouth.

“Delicious,” Cassian said, mouth full. “So good.”

“If you don’t slow down, you won’t be able to enjoy the flavor,” Nesta said, knowing full well that he wouldn’t listen. Cassian practically inhaled everything on his plate within minutes.

He moaned, stretching back in his chair before running a hand through his hair. “I must say, Nes, you really outdid yourself.”

“Well, it was the least I could do after you worked and were on baby duty all day,” she said, popping a few green beans in her mouth.

They talked about their days as she finished eating. He told her about Kallias’ agreement to move to the restaurant, she told him about the beginning of construction.

They’d kept half the restaurant open, putting up a temporary wall to keep as much noise and dust out as they could, but the sooner the build was done the better. They both agreed on that.

“So, despite your switch with the cinnamon rolls this morning,” Cassian said from where he sat as she rinsed off their plates, “I’m fairly sure I saw a cake when I came downstairs.”

“Really now,” she said, and he saw the small smile on her face.

“Mhmm,” he nodded. “And, you know, I like cake.”

“And why, exactly, would I make you a cake?” She crooned, that little smile remaining.

“Because I’m the world's best roommate and uncle, obviously,” he said.

Nesta laughed as she stood. “Yeah, whatever.”

After exiting through the back door, she returned a moment later with a big, homemade cake.

It was exquisite.

Perfectly decorated and topped with vanilla and buttercream frosting, it read Happy birthday, Cassian!

As Nesta placed it on the countertop, Cassian asked, “Nesta, when the hell did you find time to make this?”

She shrugged. “Stayed up later and got up early. Didn’t have to be too early since you decided to sleep in today, but…” Her words trailed off. “I figured it was the least I could do.”

His mouth tightened, emotion he wasn’t expecting hitting him and he cleared his throat. “You gonna sing to me?” He asked, cracking a joke to break the tension that was slowly growing.

Nesta threw her head back and laughed. “Absolutely not.”

Cassian bit back his retort and the monitor in his back pocket went off, crying coming from upstairs.

“I’ll get him,” she said, standing up. “I’m sure he’s hungry. Will you cut up green beans and carrots for him?”

He nodded, the cake forgotten as he did what he was told, and Nesta returned with a bleary-eyed Nyx a few minutes later.

“Hi buddy,” Cassian said, chuckling at Nyx’s hazy expression. He was already sitting at the table with a plate of cut up food.

The second Nyx saw the display, he was whining and reaching for it.

“Slow down, you need to be buckled into your seat first,” Nesta said, shaking her head.

“I can’t blame him,” Cassian said, as Nyx was strapped into his high chair. “I’m starving when I wake up, too.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Men.”

The second Nyx’s diapered butt hit the seat, he was stuffing his mouth.

“I guess we should wait for him to eat the cake,” Cassian said, looking longingly at the cake.

Nesta chuckled. “No patience?”

“When it comes to homemade baked goods?” Cassian scoffed. “No.”

She snorted, which had Cassian raising an eyebrow. She looked at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” he replied, shaking his head. “That was just…cute.”

Nesta didn’t reply, but he swore she could see her cheeks heating as she turned to put the leftovers from dinner away.

Once Nyx’s plate was cleared, Nesta cut three slices of cake. One was barely a sliver, one was mostly icing and one was damn near a quarter of the cake. She took the one with extra frosting for herself, placing the small one in front of Nyx and the larger one in front of Cassian.

Again, Nyx wasted no time scarfing it down. Cassian didn’t either, helping himself to another, much smaller piece afterwards, but not touching it yet.

“You sure you don’t want to sing to me?” He asked, taking a bite of the cake. “It would complete my day.”

Nyx, an impending sugar crash, was already dozing again. Apparently, his day with Uncle Cassian had well and truly worn him out.

She rolled her eyes and wiped the excess cake off of Nyx’s face. Pulling him out of his high chair, she said, “No, I think I’m good.”

“I’m just saying,” Cassian pushed. “If you wanted to really wish me a happy birthday, a song would do.”

Nesta snorted, taking Nyx in her arms and swaying, back and forth. “You’ve never heard me sing.”

“If your singing is as good as your cooking, it must be amazing,” Cassian promised.

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Have I told you that you’re full of shit?”

Cassian pretended to debate it. “Maybe once or twice.”

Nesta chuckled, and said no more about it. “Finish your cake, Nazari. This little monster is ready for bed. I’ll put him down. It’s your birthday.”

It wasn’t that putting Nyx to bed was exhausting. Although sometimes it could be a chore, Cassian nodded and took another bite of his cake as Nesta and Nyx disappeared.

In their absence, Cassian cleared his plate.

The cake was delicious.

He knew Nesta was an amazing cook, but didn’t know that her baking skills were just as good. It was the best cake he had ever eaten. He was even considering getting himself a third piece, but decided against it as she rounded the corner back into the kitchen.

She sighed, falling into her chair. “That may have been record time to get him down. He was practically asleep before I’d even pulled the curtains shut.”

“He had a big day,” Cassian said, eyeing the piece of cake on her plate that she hadn’t even touched. “Taught him how to make a mojito. He’s a pro. Maybe we should hire him on at the bar.”

Shaking her head, Nesta cut into her cake and took a bite. She chuckled. “I’m sure that doesn’t violate any labor laws.”

“Nah, we’re his guardians,” Cassian said, waving a hand. “We can certainly get some free labor out of him.”

She rolled her eyes. “I honestly can’t tell if you’re kidding or not.” She took another bite of cake, and Cassian’s eyes dipped to her mouth. He was quiet for long enough that she asked, “What?”

He hesitated but said, “You’ve got a little—”

He didn’t finish his sentence, instead he leaned forward across the small space between them and swiped the frosting that was on the corner of her lips away with his thumb.

Nesta didn’t move.

She didn’t push him away, didn’t tell him to stop touching her, either.

Cassian’s thumb lingered against her lips, and when she looked up, he was already watching her, quietly.

She opened her mouth to say something.

What? She wasn’t sure.

But, when her lips moved, Cassian’s did, too.

He kissed her, softly, slowly, and Nesta melted right into it.

[briefinquiries]

Luke Alvez x Reader: Wedding Day

Prompt: You and Luke’s wedding day. 

Tagged: @ssaic-jareau​ , @alvezstan​ , @lcvischmitt​ , @ogmilkis​ , @goldenalvez​ , @ssa-morgan​ , @garcias-batcave​ ,  @akimagies​, @zhangyixingxing1​ , @pinkdiamond1016​ , @yourwonderbelle​ , @rachelxwayne​ , @sc4rletw1tch​ , @moreidultrastan​ , @ellvswriting​

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: none

A/N: this made me SOFT wow, here’s some fluff no one asked for. i also had body parts by yoke lore playing on repeat while i wrote this to make me extra soft, so if u need a soundtrack to this imagine- that’s it!!!

“You did it up all wrong,” Rossi sighs with a little chuckle, gesturing at Luke’s tie from a spot behind him in the mirror. “Look Matt, he did it backwards. He’s nervous.”  

“It’s hard in the mirror.  Just tie it for me then,” says Luke, rolling his eyes as Rossi bats his hands away and begins to loop his tie properly.

Behind them, Matt paces dramatically with a notecard in his hand.  “You’re not allowed to be nervous,” he says, motioning towards Luke.  “I’m nervous enough for the both of us!  To be, or not to be,” he continues, outstretching his arm theatrically, and placing it on his forehead for effect, “that was the question that Luke Alvez asked Y/F/N on one fateful night almost a year ago.  My name is Matt Simmons, and I’ll be your tour guide through this emotional rollercoaster–”

“Emotional rollercoaster?” Rossi asks. 

“We’ll laugh, we’ll hope, we’ll cry.”

“Um,” says Luke, eyeing Matt warily in the mirror as Rossi laughs helplessly, “I’d like to say I know you’re just messing around… but you’re just messing around, right?”

Matt opens his eyes wide, looking appalled.  “Absolutely not!  You made a choice, the right choice I might add, asking me to make the big speech.  It’s my moment, Luke. Everyone will be talking about it for years.”

Rossi laughs even harder, patting Luke on the chest once his tie is done right, “There you go. Like a real gentleman. Don’t worry about Matt,” Rossi adds in a whisper. “I’ll keep him in line, I always do. ”

Matt throws them both a dark look, one hand over his heart, before continuing, “Now what… What is real love? Come with me now on a journey and I’ll tell you.  Together, we’ll delve into the love story between two young heart throbs. Charming, sometimes incredibly tragic, but always pure and true.  Our tale begins on the eighteenth of November one cool brisk evening. Luke Alvez was an autumn baby emerging from his mother–“

“You’ve only got like three minutes to talk,” Luke tells him, just in case he was unaware of the time limit on his speech. Just then, Spencer pops his head in.

“Practicing our speeches?” He looks at Luke and raises his eyebrows with an assuring thumbs up.  “Looking good.”

“You’re just in time,” Matt says, pointing at Spencer, “I was thinking you could act out my speech, like performance art.”

“No plays at my wedding!” Luke says, but he’s laughing too.  

Just saying the word ‘wedding’ aloud makes Luke’s heart leap a little.  He starts thinking of how you probably look right now.  You had fussed around nervously all morning, organizing and re-organizing things around the house, cleaning things that were already clean. The same way you always were when you got anxious.  Luke finally hugged you from behind and said, firmly, “Stop.”  

You had rolled your eyes but allowed Luke to tug you down onto the couch, wrapping his arms around you in a bear hug.  “It’s going to be perfect,” He had said.  

Luke then stands up from the chair, smoothing his hair.

“C’mon Rossi,” says Spencer, still lingering at the door, “Your wife sent me in here to get you, she wants to get some pictures beforehand.”

“Duty calls,” Rossi says, smiling lightly at Matt and Luke before following Spencer out the door.

Once they’re gone, Matt grins at Luke.  

“You ready for this?” he asks. Luke gives a little shrug. After month building up to this day, it almost feels like a dream – the hum of people collecting in the church, his shiny new shoes, the look in your eyes earlier when you’d said in awe, “Next time I see you, I’ll marry you,” which Luke can’t stop replaying in his mind.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.  Any last words of advice?”

“Yes,” Matt says seriously.  “Four, actually.”  Matt says the words slowly and clearly, “Don’t – mess – it – up.”  

“Like don’t stutter when I’m reading my vows?  Or like, don’t be a horrible husband and drive Y/N away?”

“Both,” says Matt, his face breaking out into a grin.  “See?  That’s why I’m so helpful.”

“Ah,” says Luke, smiling.  “I see.  You’re the master. Thanks, Matt.” He meets his eyes, which are soft and fond.

“You deserve it, brother,” he says. “All of this. I’m so happy for you.”

“Aw,” Luke teases, trying to conceal the lump in his throat, “are you going to cry?”

“I might,” says Matt.  “Your bride certainly will.  She was already looking a bit teary when I left her earlier. We’ve actually all taken bets on how long it’ll take her to start bawling.”  

“What?” Luke exclaims indignantly. “Nobody told me that! Come on, I want in.”

“Sorry, but Kristy said it’s not nice to bet on your own wife’s wedding day tears.”  

“But I’d have the best chance at winning!”  

“Nope, not allowed,” says Matt. “Although I’ll tell you my guess – she won’t last thirty seconds after she sees you.  And it will continue for the rest of the evening.”

“That’s – that’s probably true,” Luke admits. “What did everyone else guess?”

“Tara said she’d cry during vows,” says Matt, ticking them off as he counted on his finger.  “Garcia bet same as me, when she sees you, and Emily thinks she’s already crying.”

“I think I’m with Emily on that one,” says Luke with a little laugh.

Just then JJ pokes her head into the tent, hair piled elegantly on top of her head, gesturing at him.  Matt gives her a charming smile, which she returns.

“Luke, are you almost ready?  Everyone’s waiting!”  

Luke nods as JJ sighs and crosses the floor to hug him, straightening his tie.  

“You look great,” she whispers.

“Thanks,” Luke says, swallowing another lump that rises in his throat.  “Alright, let’s get moving. I can’t be late to my own wedding.”

…

As it turns out, they all lose the bet – you hold it together fairly well, misty-eyed and fond, through most of the ceremony.  It’s Luke who gets teary eyed the moment he sees you turn the corner and start walking down the alter.  Your arm’s latched with Rossi’s and the minute your eyes meet his, the lump in his throat is back, only this time with some tears as well.  

You’re beautiful, in the most elegant and true way.  Your hair is pulled back, complimented by a veil.  Your face breaks out into a huge smile of triumph when you see Luke.  You clutch tightly onto the assortment of flowers in your hand and make your way closer and closer.  

Luke lets out a shaky laugh, trying to cover up how emotional he really is.  After a few moments of just staring, in complete and utter awe, he has to wipe his eyes on the sleeve of his jacket.  

You reach the front of the aisle, kissing Rossi on the cheek one last time before stepping up to the alter.  

Luke can’t help himself.  He’s smiling so wide, his insides bursting with love and affection and disbelief.  He was so lucky.  So so lucky.  

The ceremony’s a blur.  Luke’s head is spinning and it all goes so fast.  Before he knows it, he’s saying his vows, the words falling off his tongue from memory, but they’d really been in his heart the entire time anyway. He’s clutching onto your hand so tight.

The phrase “you may now kiss the bride” is barely audible before Luke’s mouth is on yours, pressing you both together as close as he can.  

It’s after your first kiss that your fingers clutch tightly into Luke’s waist and you’re crying when you pull back, smiling so hard your eyes are nearly closed.  Luke pulls you closer, holding onto you for dear life, his heart is so full he thinks it might explode.  

“We did it,” you breathe into his neck, a secret whisper just for Luke, even as everyone’s cheering and applauding from all sides. It’s almost too much.  He sways against you, arms locked tight around you back.

“I knew we would,” he murmurs, kissing you on the cheek.

Matt’s speech isn’t as bad as he’d promised – in fact, it’s incredibly touching. You, predictably, sniffle and giggle your way through the entire thing, much like the rest of the crowd.  

The day passes in a blur of relatives and champagne, Luke and you slow dancing, Matt and Kristy cozying up together.  Rossi wrapping Luke in a bear hug and muttering “I love you, kid,” with tears in his eyes.  

Luke’s mom, who cried even more than you, pulls you close and whispers, “I’d say welcome to the family, but you always have been.” You hug her with tears prickling in your own eyes, at a loss for words.  

It’s frantic, fast-paced and fun, a sensory overload. Luke barely gets time to eat a slice of his own wedding cake.  He’s not sure what he’s going to remember about the day, but he knows that it’ll be good.  Maybe something with your hand on his back, or the feeling of your cheek pressed to his while you dance, just swaying together under the soft lights.

“Will you kiss me?” you ask Luke towards the end of the night, when you’re almost the last two left dancing.  Luke smiles down at you, cupping your face, eyes incredibly fond.

“Always.”  

[thorne93]

Inside The Criminal Mind (Part 24)

Prompt: You’re married to Dr. Spencer Reid of the BAU, and are a distinguished doctor yourself on the team. You’re sent down to Miami, Florida for teaching and as a side request from the FBI, to investigate a string of missing persons. When you think you’ve figured out who the unsub is, your life becomes more complicated than you ever could’ve imagined.

Word Count: 2441

Warnings: (throughout the fic –>) death, blood, gore, killings, language, disturbing mental notions, mentions of rapes/murder/etc (You know, Dexter and Criminal Minds related business)

Notes: Thank you so much to @arrow-guy​​​​​​, @carryonmyswansong​​​​​​, and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​​​ - without each of you, I couldn’t have finished, written, or properly navigated this story. Each of you helped me fish out details that were incredibly important to me. Beta’d by @carryonmyswansong​​​​​​ and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​​​… Aesthetic by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​​​

This is a crossover of Criminal Minds x Dexter. First time writing Dexter.

Also, the timeline is after Season 1 of Dexter, but during season 14-ish of Criminal minds into Season 15. Enjoy!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alright, crime fighters,” Garcia began as she stood before the screen. “This one is a doozy. Bring your sunscreen because thirty bodies were discovered in the ocean in Florida. And none of them were in one piece.”

“Did fish get to them?” Luke asked. 

“No, they were found in bags. The, uh, nature of the mutilation was done by the unsub.” 

“Where is this at in Florida?” Tara wondered. 

“Bay Harbor, Miami. Hence the icky name of Bay Harbor Butcher,” she explained. 

She went through the pictures on the screen as you were drinking. You didn’t pay much mind to the things being said until she said that and you choked on your water. Coughing. 

Your blood ran icy hot. Your veins had been replaced with white hot rods of steel, your legs replaced with jello. 

Jesus fucking christ this wasn’t happening. 

Spencer glanced at you and patted your back. 

“Sorry. I’m sorry. Miami?” you asked once you got through coughing and everyone was done staring at you. 

“Yes, and it appears that some of them may be the eighteen cases you were looking at before you went down,” Garcia explained. “So, guess you’ve got some more to help you with the profile. If there is a bright side at all to this.”

“And on the not so bright side, we have another case in Oregon. Which means we need to split up. Reid, Y/N, Rossi, and Luke go down to Miami. Y/N since you know most of the victimology, catch everyone up on the jet. Matt, Tara, JJ, and I will go to Oregon.” 

The team was dismissed and everyone started to head for the bullpen before Spencer grabbed your sleeve and kept you in the conference room. 

“Hey, are these his?” he whispered, sure that everyone was out of hearing range. “Are they Dexter’s?” 

You nodded, a look of apology in your eyes. 

“Are any of them yours?” he asked even quieter. 

“Possibly,” you said. 

His face morphed into upset. “Alright. Call him and see what he’s doing to handle this. Tell him we’re on our way. I’ll go get our overnight bags out of the car.” 

You nodded again, trying to keep your composure. Jeez, lying was getting easier with Dexter, but when you were faced with scrutiny, it was earth shattering for you. 

You took out your phone and went into Derek’s old office where no one had been using it for years. You shut the door and turned the blinds so no one could see you. You called Dexter and paced, your heart hammering. 

“Hey,” he greeted, his tone serious. 

“Hey, so we just got a case for Miami, Florida. For dismembered bodies in bags on the ocean floor!” you whisper-yelled. “When the hell were you going to tell me?” 

“Look, I’ve got it under control.” 

“Really? Then why is my team being called in?” 

“That’s Captain Matthews. It’s a political move. Your team does the work, he gets the credit.” 

“Do you have any plan on how to fix this? Were you ever going to tell me?” 

“I’m working on it. I didn’t have time. They found the bodies last night and I’ve been up all night trying to think of a way to get ahead of it.” 

“You need to work faster.” You glanced up at the clock. “Shit, I gotta go. I’ll be down there in a few hours.” 

“Looking forward to it,” he sarcastically responded before you rolled your eyes and hung up. 

You exited the room where you saw Spencer with his back turned towards you. 

“Hey,” you greeted as you walked up. 

“What’d he say?” 

“Not much. We’ll talk more when we get there.”

With that, you two took off to the air strip and boarded the jet. Once everyone got settled and in the air, the victimology took off. 

“Alright, Y/N, catch us up,” Rossi directed. 

You cleared your throat, trying to keep your nerves steady as you looked around your teammates, trying to do your best to hide every minute facial expression, tick, inflection in voice, change of speech pattern. Lying to the beat cops was one thing. Lying to your husband was hard, emotionally. Lying to a team of the best profilers and cold case crackers - that would be a miracle. 

Not to mention you had to be sure not to include any details that weren’t found in the files sitting right in front of you.

But you had to do it. Your life, Dexter’s life, even Spencer’s life depended on it. You had to be cool, calm, controlled. Dexter had tested it out on you once or twice, lying, being interrogated, but it was hard with him. It was a killer interrogating a killer. 

“So when I was studying this, I narrowed it down that most of them had a run in with the Miami PD before going missing. Now though, that doesn’t fit. Not everyone had a run in with the law. In fact, some of them led model lives. That’s where I got stumped.” 

“Did you interview all the detectives and everyone that had come in contact with the ones that did go through the Miami PD?” Luke asked.

“Just about everyone on their payroll. Everyone admitted to interacting with some of them, to some degree.”

“Alright so we know the unsub chose an underwater grave, why?” 

“Forensic countermeasure?” Spencer offered and you tried not to smile at him, a sign that you knew he was trying to help you and Dexter. 

“But if that’s the case, why put them in bags? Wouldn’t you just dump the body parts by themselves, let the fish take care of the rest?” 

“The unsub might worry about the parts floating, or washing to shore. This way, if the bag is weighed down by something, it’s at least going to stay put on the ocean floor,” Spence countered and you wanted to thank him for thinking quick on his toes. 

“Did you get anything out of the victims’ families?” Rossi questioned.

“A little. Some said the ones that had run ins with the law wouldn’t be surprised if they left, others were still in hock that they left the house without their cell phone.” 

“Was there anything to tie them to the others? Maybe a past they didn’t show on paper. Did Garcia find anything?” 

“Not that I could see,” you admitted, trying not to sweat bullets. “I didn’t get a chance to get all of my info over to Garcia though. I had so little go to on. I checked into some of the cleaner ones pasts but came up empty,” you explained. That wasn’t a lie. Dexter had found out most of the dirty secrets and told you once you confronted him. 

“Alright. Luke, question the victim’s families again. Now that they’ve been found, I want to see if they’ll share anything else. I’ll go with the Reids to the PD. Hopefully a familiar face will set them at ease.” 

I hope something puts me at ease, you thought before looking to Spencer who gave you a face you couldn’t quite pinpoint. 

Before you knew it, and before you were ready, you were landing in Miami, and at the police department. 

“Ah, Dr. Reid, good to see you again,” Captain Matthews greeted, shaking your hand. 

“Likewise. Captain, this is my husband, Special Agent Dr. Reid, Special Agent Tara Lewis, Matt immons, and my boss David Rossi.” 

“So good to have you all here. You can set up in our conference room and I’ll gather my men,” he said. 

“Thank you,” Rossi replied with a nod. “Ah, so you left everyone with a good impression of the Bureau I see,” he teased and you smiled.

“Let’s hope so.” 

All of you entered the conference room and began setting up, when it was only an hour later that cops and the Captain started to file into the room. Dexter and his sister were some of the last to come in. You made eye contact and for the life of you, you couldn’t be mad. 

Well, okay, you were pissed, panicking, under tremendous pressure. 

But Dexter was on the line here too. No, when you saw him, you just saw… a friend. Dexter was smart, cunning. He had the help of his cop father to lead him out of this, and with you and Spencer on the inside, you could hopefully pin this on someone who deserved to be the unsub. 

When you saw Dexter and he gave you the tiniest of side grins, you felt… better somehow. 

Matthews spewed off some bullshit about working together and then everyone was let loose. Your team worked on the case some more, until it was 10 oclock at night. They hadn’t gotten very far. You all had to wait on forensics. It looked like most of them matched the files, but nothing had been confirmed except about five, and four of them were criminals. 

When everyone went their separate ways for the night, you and Spence headed to Dexter’s small workspace in the back. You knocked on his door and he  looked up. 

“Hey, got time for some company?” you asked with a smile. 

“Sure. Let me just put these up and I'll meet you downstairs okay?” 

You nodded before the two of you turned and walked out of the bullpen.

“Are we just supposed to go drinking with him now? Be friendly?” Spencer asked, the irritation clear in his voice. 

“I don’t have to pretend. He is my friend,” you reminded. You two had stepped into the elevator. “This is a chance to catch all of us up on what happened.” 

Spencer nodded, putting his head back against the wall. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he said. 

“I know. I’m so sorry to put you through this. You don’t deserve this part. I never thought you’d have to cover up for me like this.” 

“It’ll be tricky, but we’ll make it work,” he promised, looking down at you with a promising smile. The two of you got off the elevator and waited for Dex, who arrived in just minutes. 

“So, your place or mine?” he asked with a grin. 

“Yours,” you answered. You rode with him to his apartment. As soon as the door was shut, Spencer laid into him, something you weren’t expecting. 

“How could you let this happen?” he demanded, getting close to Dexter. 

“I didn’t let anything happen. I was scrupulous. I was careful, painfully so.” 

“Right,” Spence said sarcastically, his face made of stone as he stared Dexter down. “So careful that your victims were found by a fishing expedition.” 

“Look,  I made sure there was no trace evidence, fiber, DNA. Nothing can trace back to me,” he assured him calmly. 

“And what about Y/N? Can any of it trace back to her?” 

“No, I disposed of her bodies myself.” 

“And look at just how careful that turned out,” Spencer retalitated. 

“Hey!” you demanded. “Knock it off. Both of you. Dex, is there any cause for alarm right now?” 

“You tell me, you’re on the special task force assigned to this. What do you have? What have you given them?”

“Not much of anything. Since we are waiting on confirmation, we’re just reviewing missing persons cases.” 

“Then all we can do is wait. I can’t be proactive about something that shouldn’t even be happening. Nothing points to me, nothing points to Y/N. So can we all relax a little bit, please?” he asked, begging in his tone. 

“Relax? You want me to relax? Because of your negligence, my wife’s life hangs in the balance. If they trace anything back to her--”

“They won’t,” Dexter assured firmly, darkness encasing his face and tone. “As for your wife, she approached me, remember? She didn’t have to go rogue. That was her doing. Don’t blame me for her crimes. I’m just as exposed as her. Most of the bodies are mine, if anything, it’ll all be pinned on me.” 

“That sounds just fine to me,” Spencer snapped with a coolness.

“Hey,” you interjected. Both men were staring each other down before you sighed. “Arguing won’t help right now. Dexter’s right. We can’t fight something that hasn’t happened yet. We know they’ll look at victimology. All that will tell them is that they’re criminals and they have a vigilante.”

“And that most of them came through Miami PD,” Spencer reminded. 

“That wasn’t all though. We still have a few that won’t show up on those radars.”

“With Garcia? She’ll dig up all kinds of dirt.” 

“Yeah but maybe we can point her in someone else’s direction,” you offered.

“You want to pin this on someone innocent?” Spencer asked.

“For once, I agree with your husband. We aren’t doing that.” 

You balked. “Are you serious?”

“That’s taking an innocent life,” he reminded. “I can’t do that.”

“Okay, so how do we defer blame from us?” you inquired. 

“Sabotage the evidence,” Dexter realized, hope in his voice.

Spencer frowned. “Evidence? What evidence? All you have right now are the bodies.”

“Exactly. If we can decompose them quicker, they won’t be able to see the injection sites or pick up as much forensic evidence.” 

You questioned, “So what do you suggest? A giant body snatching?” 

“Not the worst idea,” Dexter commented. 

“We’re not hauling off tons of slimey dead bodies from a forensic lab,” Spencer argued. 

“Well, they’re being contained in that state of the art warehouse. Is there a way you could mess with the AC? Maybe swap samples? Anything?” 

“We’re getting a little ahead of ourselves here, guys,” Spencer suddenly said.

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, right now, the BAU has no leads. Like we said, even if we identify all the bodies, all they have is a pattern that vaguely leads to a vigilante. At best, we’ll profile a cop, someone within the police department, that will point to a dozen people. I think for now we should just see if it blows over. Maybe we won’t get any solid leads. But if someone sees one of us tampering with evidence, questions will begin to spark.”

You looked to Dexter. “It’s not a bad call. You don’t have a plan of action anyway. Best we can do right now is lay low, see what they dig up.”

“You mean what you dig up?” Dexter replied. “It’s your team on this. I’m trusting you to keep their eyes diverted.” 

“I’ll do my best but our team has solved nearly every case we’ve come across.” 

“Make this one of the ones you don’t solve,” he ordered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[lailannajacobs]

Harbour in a Hurricane

Pairing: Bucky x ShieldAgent!Reader 

Prompt: You can look all you want, but I bet you’re dying to touch me

Warnings: just a little blood and a lot of feels! 

Word Count: 5k

A/N: This is my entry for @moonbeambucky‘s writing challenge!! Congrats again for the 5k Tara, you deserve it so so much!! Hope you guys enjoy! I always love to hear what you think!! <3

Pacing back and forth in the living room of your one-bedroom apartment, you refused to sit down, relax and take your mind off of him - refused to do the exact thing they had sent you home to do. Everyone had told you repeatedly that the compound was no place to calm down, but the apartment you had moved into less than a month ago felt less like home than the compound did. At the compound, you had your family there with you. But still, they had all insisted, saying that you needed to step away. If you were being honest, you were pretty sure all your pacing was driving them insane.

Bucky should have been back from his mission a week ago, and his failure to show without any sort of message or explanation was driving you crazy. He had gone off on a risky mission, made even riskier by the fact that he had refused to take anyone else with him. Any one of his good friends could have gone with him, any of the hundred capable agents could have gone with him for that matter, but he had refused.

You should have gone with him.

But just because you were partnered for most missions, didn’t meant that you went on all of them together.

Running your fingers through your hair, you stopped pacing, knowing you should at least eat something. You couldn’t remember when you last had, and you knew running yourself into the ground wouldn’t help anyone. But it wasn’t like there was anything you could do to help anyways.

Steve had refused to tell you where Bucky had gone on the basis that you would do something stupid like go after him. It didn’t matter that he was right, it didn’t make the wait any easier.

Sam had tried to comfort you by telling you that Bucky was more than capable of taking care of himself, and before he sent you home, reminded you that it couldn’t be all that serious if Steve wasn’t worried. If Steve started to worry, Sam promised you would be the first to know.

He had said all of that with a funny look on his face as if he could tell that all your worry stemmed from a more-than-just friends’ kind of feeling rather than the general colleague concern you should have felt. But if he figured out that you had feelings for Bucky that you definitely shouldn’t have, he didn’t let on or react in that obnoxious brotherly way of his. You almost wished he had, just to take your mind off of things. Almost.

You stared pacing again, unable to stay still for long. No matter how useless treading a path in the shiny would floors was, it felt better than doing nothing. maybe if you slept - your phone nestled in between your hand and the pillow with the ringer on high - you wouldn’t be driving yourself crazy. You knew it could be the only way to stop yourself from imagining a million different horrible explanations as to why he wasn’t back yet.

Even if you would hate yourself if you knew that Bucky had gotten hurt while you were sleeping, you reminded yourself that getting hurt was a constant risk in your line of work. You also reminded yourself that your current feelings were the reason you refused to even let yourself think about dating the blue eyed, dark haired soldier - not that your plan was working out so great with regards to keeping your cool at work.

With a defeated sigh, you knew sleep was your only option. Putting yourself trough hell wouldn’t do anything to help Bucky, and if Sam did call, you weren’t going to be much use fatigued and stressed. Even though this was probably the hundredth time you had come to this conclusion since walking through your apartment doors, this was the first time you walked into your bedroom.

Checking your cell’s ringer five times just to be sure you’d hear it, you flopped onto the bed, without bothering to tuck yourself under the sheets. Despite everything, or maybe because of it, you passed out within seconds.

I’d ask what you’re up to, but the getup is pretty self explanatory.” You leaned against Bucky’s bedroom doorframe, admiring the view in front of you. His black combat suit covered practically every inch of his body, the design reminiscent of one of Cap’s older suits, “So why is it that I’m missing out on all the fun?”

He looked up from his attempt at securing a particularly difficult weldor around his wrist.

“Firecracker,” He smiled, but it felt strained, “I’m not sharing this one with anyone.”

“What do you mean exactly?” The words were a question you already knew the answer to, but it didn’t stop you from asking it anyways as you walked up to help him.

He let you take his wrist, staring at it instead of you. “You know what it means.”

“Then why the hell are you going alone?” You slapped the strap together and threw his wrist at his chest, unable to contain your irritation, “I know you only wear this suit on the dangerous missions.”

“Every mission is dangerous.” He answered calmly, checking over the rest of the suit.

“You know what I mean.” You huffed.

He looked down at you, capturing your gaze with his piercing blue one, and murmured, “I do.”

“Then take me with you,” You whispered, “Or if not me, then Sam. Or Steve. Or Nat. Or Scott, I heard he’s back from San Fransisco and incredibly bored.”

“I can’t. This is something I have to do by myself.” He sighed.

“Don’t be an idiot Bucky.”

He smirked, “Didn’t Maria tell you when you took the job? You’re surrounded by idiots.”

“You don’t have to be part of the majority.” You grumbled, staring at ground.

“You know I have to be.” He took your wrist, silently begging you to look up at him. “Nat and Wanda are the only exceptions and you and I both know three would be a crowd.”

A defeated sigh escaped your lips, and you tried once more in vain to reason with him, “Well then, if you’re going to be an idiot, can you at least bring another idiot along with you? Or preferably one of the two exceptions?”

“If I didn’t know any better, Firecracker, I’d say you truly cared whether I lived or died.” He grinned, trying to make light of a subject both of you knew was far more serious than he was letting on.

“Of course I care, You still haven’t bought the first round you owe from our last mission.” You shot him your most no-nonsense look. “So don’t die, okay?”

He let out a little amused huff and nodded, “Okay. For the sake of your free beer, I won’t die.”

“Good. Now,” you forced a grin to mask your worry, “do you need me to braid those luscious locks of yours? I’m just saying, they wouldn’t be in the way…”

He shook his head, a smirk playing on his lips, “See you in two weeks Firecracker.”

You watched as he walked out his room, leaving you to stare out after him, wondering if you were really going to see him in two weeks.

“Promise me you'll come home Bucky.” You whispered when he was too far to hear.

It was still dark when an ominous scraping on your fire escape woke you from your fitful sleep.You listened carefully, hoping it was another squirrel rifling through your newly planted geraniums, but the sound didn’t feel right. Whatever was there sounded too big to be a squirrel, and your gut told you that whatever was there was extremely dangerous.

Wide awake, you slipped out of bed, slid open the top drawer of your bedside table, and pulled out your handgun. Your bare feet were silent on the old wooden floor, avoiding the creaking boards you had memorized after your first week living here.

There was enough light pouring in through your living room window that when you turned the corner the broad figure squeezing in through the fire escape window was impossible to miss - both with your eyes and your gun.

“Take another step and you’ll get two bullets through the eyes.” You warned, staying a safe distance away.

Someone his size could easily overpower you in tight quarters and you weren’t about to give up your advantage.

Your mind raced, trying to figure out who would be breaking into your new apartment in the middle of the night. You weren’t a public icon like any of the Avengers, and you were in no way powerful enough to merit high profile enemies like some of your colleagues had.

The logical explanation was that you were being robbed, but your windows had been locked before you had gone to bed, and anyone who opted to pick a complex lock rather than smash the window was either an exceptional thief or wanted to get in unnoticed.

Your job most certainly meant it was the latter.

Which left you where you started. Who the hell was trying to kill you?

The figure kept moving, your warning either unbelievable or he didn’t think a bullet would slow him down. Whatever he believed, you hoped you could prove him dead wrong if it came down to it.

Now that he was practically in your apartment, you cocked the gun in warning. “I don’t like to repeat myself. Another step and it’ll be the last one you take asshole.”

He straightened, even taller and squarer than you had guessed, which only made you realize that you had underestimated just how far he had gotten into the apartment. You were suddenly glad that you were the one with the gun.

You hadn’t been expecting a fight tonight, but now that you had one, you would damn well finish it. After all, maybe this was the distraction you needed tonight.

A groan escaped the man’s lips, garbling the words he attempted to speak, and he cleared his throat. Raising the gun a little higher, your finger on the trigger, you aimed for his head, but you weren’t ready to shoot him yet. The sound he had made was one of an injured man and you still had questions you wanted answered.

He took a step forward and you almost shot his thigh before a street lamp outside your apartment flickered to life, glinting off the intruder’s arm. Your breath caught in your throat, but you didn’t lower the weapon. Odds were, the stress, fatigue and malnourishment meant you were imagining him. But it didn’t matter what the odds were.

The next words out of your mouth might have cost you your life, but you couldn’t help but whisper, “Bucky?” your voice so low it was only heard because it was the middle of the night.

He didn’t answer, but he didn’t take another step forward either.

Backing up, your gun still raised and pointed at his head, you flipped the lamp switch.

Pale blue eyes were staring back at you in the pale light, framed by dark greasy strands of hair. But instead of feeling relief, worry tightened its grip and twisted. Blood caked his blanched face; his hand was pressed against his abdomen and he was tilted at an awkward angle that let you know that his climb up the fire escaped had to have been painful.

Whatever had done this to him had to more than dangerous. You didn’t dare think about the very real possibility that Bucky hadn’t won the fight and that whatever it was, was still out there. He wasn’t about to die in your apartment either. You refused to even let that be a possibility.

For some reason, it was as if all your training vanished, and you were left sunned, gaping at him like you weren’t sure if he was real or if it was a nightmare.

“You can look all you want, but I bet you’re dying to touch me.” The smirk on his face seemed more like a grimace and his voice was dry and hoarse, but it was the cocky playfulness lighting up his eyes that snapped you out of your trance.

“I’m pretty sure you’re the one who’s dying, idiot!” You whispered yelled, taking in the purpling bruise on the corner of his right eye and his cracked lip, “What the hell are you doing here? I could have shot you! Why aren’t you at the compound? I could have shot you!”

Thankfully, your voice was steady and whatever inkling was left of your training covered just how worried you were.

He shrugged, but even the minimal movement seemed to cause him pain. He was probably standing out of pure stubbornness alone.

“Here was close.”

“Here was closer?” You echoed. “You decided to scale a fire escape up five floors, half dead, to a tiny apartment without medical professionals because here was closer? I could have shot you!” You repeated, trying to get it through his thick skull. You wondered if he might have a concussion.

“Had I known you’d be pointing a gun at me for this long, I might not have.” He half smirked, half grimace once again, but you knew it was forced.

Any other day, he would have told you that there was no way in hell you could have shot him, but he was too hurt, even for that bravado.

Then his words sunk in.

You stared at the gun, horrified that you were still aiming it at his chest. Flipping the safety back on, you dropped it to the table and burst into action, crossing the distance between the two of you in frantic paces. Your hand immediately fluttered to  his face, not wanting to touch him in fear of hurting him but needing to assess the damage.

“Did you really expect me not to? You broke into my place in the middle of the night. Of course I was going to point a gun at you.” You murmured, your fingers gingerly tilting his head from side to side, inspecting the bruises and cuts.

Your heart tightened. That was only the damage on his face. From the way he was standing, his injuries weren’t only external.

. “I would have been disappointed if you hadn’t. But I figured that if I didn’t break your window, then you might not have pointed it at me for so long.” He kept still, eyes closed

You let out a breathy laugh. “So the only reason you didn’t break my window was so that you didn’t get shot.”

“I also didn’t want to break your window. You did only move in a month ago.”

You shook your head, not sure if you wanted to smack him or kiss him. “You could have. Broken the window I mean. It would have been a lot faster and less painful. Now we need to get you to the compound.”

He grabbed your wrist, eyes snapping open, “No.”

The wild look in his eyes told you it was nonnegotiable.

“Then we get the compound to come to us. Bucky, you need help.”

“No.” He repeated, those piercing blue eyes pinning you to the spot. “I know I wasn’t followed. They don’t know where you live or who you are. I won’t bring you into this anymore than I have already by trying to get back to the compound. Laying low here is the safest option Firecracker.”

“Not for you! Do you I need to remind you that I’m not a doctor? I can’t fix a broken rib, which you clearly have by the way. You need an actual doctor, not someone who’s first aid training was in high school.”

“You can’t do much more for a broken rib than a doctor can.” He pointed out through gritted teeth as he shifted his weight, “But you can do something about the stab wound.”

Your eyes widened, and you would have smacked him upside the head if he hadn’t been so injured, “Oh my god Bucky. What the hell is wrong with you? You can’t break in here cracking jokes and then tell me you’ve been stabbed five minutes later. Sit. Now. We need to get you out of that suit you idiot.”

The corner of his mouth lifted into that crooked little half smile that apparently seemed to make your heart flutter even when his life was on the line. “Is that the only thing we need to get me out of?”

“No.” You knew he had only said that jokingly to distract you from your scolding and himself from the pain, which was why he looked so surprised by your answer. Not wanting him to think you were serious - even though you might have been if he wasn’t half dead and if he might have been even remotely interested - you quickly continued, “No. I also want you out of my apartment and in a real hospital, but I know you’re not going to do that are you?”

He shook his head, the movement as small as the slight raise of the of his lips so that it wouldn’t cause him pain.

“Then I need you out of this suit so that I can clean the wound. Thank god you didn’t get shot.” You grumbled, “You know how much I hate fishing for bullets.”

“You’re welcome.” As soon as he took his hand off his wound, he stumbled, grinning onto your sofa for support.

You ducked under his arm and guided him to the tiny sofa that looked even smaller with him sitting in in. “Sit still.”

“I feel so coddled when you bark orders at me like that.” He gripped his abdomen tighter.

At least his eyes were still alight with humour, which meant he wasn’t about to pass out any time soon. You let out a small sigh of relief.

“You’re a soldier. You don’t get coddled. Now, try not to get any blood on my sofa. I got it yesterday.” You barked, trying to keep you the worry from your voice.

You wondered if you were overdoing the clipped professionalism a little, but you were afraid to drop the act, knowing if you did, he would be able to tell how much seeing him like this was eating you up inside.

“If I do stain it, Firecracker, I promise I’ll come over and clean it up myself.” The way that piercing gaze seemed to bore into your soul gave you the impression that he was trying to tell you something, but you couldn’t figure it out.

Lost in those stormy eyes, you couldn’t help but whisper, “I’m going to hold you to that.”

“Good.” He breathed so softly, you realized the only reason you heard him was because the two of you were now inches away.

You backed away quickly and cleared your throat, unclipping and unzipping the ties furthers from his wound.

He tried to help but you swatted his hand away, “Keep pressure on that wound.”

Bucky complied, only removing his hand when you needed to get him out of his sleeves. His expression remained neutral through the whole thing, but the slight narrowing of his eyes and the way he held his breath a second too long at times let you know he was in serious pain.

When you peeled the material down to his chest, you couldn’t help but wince - at least you hadn’t gasped - at the sight. Patching Bucky up in the field wasn’t something you did often, and when you did, they were only small cuts and minor inconveniences that only needed disinfecting.

Whatever he had been stabbed with had gone in far, and from the looks of the dark blood smeared across his contracted abs, and the fleshy, jagged line, it had been meant to hurt.

“I thought this was your vibranium suit.” You muttered, confused.

“It is.” he coughed. “The other guy’s knife was also vibranium. Surprise.”

You forced a smile, “And that’s why I hate surprises.”

He let out a little huff and nodded, but you could tell it didn’t distract him from the fact that both of you were very aware that his opponent had known more than he should have. No one in this business was that lucky. At least not against Bucky.

With an awkward little tap on his bicep you got up and went to find your first aid kit in the bathroom.

“Funny,” Bucky said as you walked back in the room, “I didn’t think I needed you to get me in and out of this suit.”

You let out a sigh of relief when you saw that he was still awake. He was holding out a lot better than most people would have, and even if you were away for less than a minute, you had been worried the whole time that he would fall asleep and not wake up. You knew you were worrying too much, but in your defence, you weren’t exactly prepared for this.

Unable to wipe the light smile from your lips, you shook your head, “You always need me.”

“I do.”

You wanted to ask him if he really meant it or if it was just the pain talking, but you kept your mouth shut. Knowing you were getting dangerously close to feelings you didn’t want to dig up, you decided to try and hide them as best you could, “That’s why we’re mission buddies. I have to keep you out of trouble.”

You tried not to wince at how awkward that sounded.

He nodded, “Right. Mission buddies. Of course.”

You began cleaning the wound, trying to focus on the task at hand rather than the captivating look in his eyes. If he hadn’t been so injured, you were pretty sure he would have guessed your feelings by now. You wanted to smack yourself for the way you kept steering the conversation into dangerous territory. Normally you had no problem keeping your emotions in check but with all the not knowing and waiting this past week, it seemed you couldn’t keep your walls up high enough.

“You know, you owe first round for the next ten missions.” You hoped to steer the conversation into friendlier territory.

“What?” he winced at the pressure you applied, “I only remember one.”

You pressed the cloth against his cut more gently this time, “I added one for every day you were late.”

“That seems reasonable.”

“Of course that’s reasonable, I was worried sick.” You chided.

“You were worried sick?” He asked softly, causing you to look up.

He was looking at you with a strange look on his face, his head titled slightly as if he wasn’t sure he had heard you right.

You only stared, realizing your mistake and racking your brain to find a way to recover.

“Yeah dummy,” you forced a laugh and looked down at his cut so that he couldn’t see your face, “We all were. Especially Sam. You should have seen him. He kept asking Steve if we should go find you.”

He lifted a brow, “Really. Sam? That doesn’t-”

Although it probably made you a bad person, you took that opportunity to pierce his skin with the needle, not having warned him that you were starting the stitches.

He grimaced. “Remind me never to get patched up by you again.”

“I’ll keep that in mind as long as you don’t get stabbed again.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He echoed.

By the time you were finished you finally got up the courage to ask him the question that had been going through your mind from the moment you saw the wound.

“What happened out there?” You whispered.

He tried to shrug off your question with a chuckle, but you had pulled back to disinfect the cuts on his face, so he had nowhere to look but in your eyes, “I’m serious Bucky. There aren’t too many people that can get the jump on you.”

He looked like he wanted to be anywhere else, but you knew he wouldn’t ignore your question. Not when you had him in your apartment in the middle of the night and were patching him up. He stayed silent for so long that you got back to work, softly dabbing the cut near his eye. You knew you weren’t doing much to help at this point, but you needed to be doing something and he didn’t seem to mind.

You were just about to move onto the cut on his lip when he put his hand on yours. The soft touch and warmth of his hand stopped you in your tracks.

You looked up at him in question.

“Thank you, Firecracker.”

You sighed. “You’re not healed but at least you’re alive. But Bucky, you need to tell someone what’s going on. It really doesn’t matter who as long as you tell someone who can help you if need be.  I can’t… I don’t know… I don’t know what I’d…we’d do if you didn’t come back.”

“I’ll come back. I’ll always come back.” He looked like he wanted to say something else but changed his mind and forced a little smirk, “Sam would go crazy if I didn’t, right? And I can’t let you live with Sam if he’s crazy, now can I?”

“No. No you can’t. You absolutely cannot.”

He cocked his head, “That’s a lot of insistence there, Firecracker.”

You averted your eyes to your new task, but unfortunately that was the cut on his lips, which was probably the worst place for you to look to hide your feelings. So you moved onto the shallow slash on his collar bone. You knew he was only teasing to keep distracted from the pain in his chest, but you refused to let him even get an inkling as to how you were feeling.

“You owe us ten rounds remember? Can’t have you dying on us just yet.”

You felt the laughter in his chest, “Of course.”

Before he could say anything else that you decided he was as fixed up as you could ever manage.

“You need to rest. Now. You’ll take the bed and I’ll be right here if you need me.”

He started to protest but you shook your head, “I’m not letting you sleep on my couch when really you should be in a hospital. Need I remind you that you have a broken rib.”

“And you shouldn’t have to sleep on the couch because I made a stupid mistake and got stabbed.” He growled.

You carefully picked up a heavy arm and slid yourself under it to carry as much of his weight as you could. Whatever adrenaline had been keeping him up earlier had vanished, and his body felt about fifty pounds heavier than before.

“You came to me Barnes, instead of the compound. My house, my rules.”

“Any other rules I should know about Firecracker?”

“Not at the moment.” You puffed, straining to keep him up.

“So there are others?”

“Of course,”

You felt his breathy laughter on the top of your head.

“Maybe you should stop laughing.” You said when he groaned in pain.

“I just need to sleep it off.”

You rolled your eyes and eased him onto the end bed.

He sat there looking at you expectantly.

You had to admit that it wasn’t exactly how you pictured having him in your bed. You pushed the thoughts away. He was here because he was hurt. That was all. And he was safe. He was safe. Bucky was safe. Finally realizing it, you stumbled a little, overcome with relief and somehow, the man with the broken rib, your partner in the field, caught you.

“You okay there?”

He eased you down beside him and you sat, shoulder to shoulder, staring off into your living room.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired. It is,” you looked over at your alarm clock, “3:45 in the morning.”

“(y/n)?”

“Hmm?” You didn’t look at him.

He gently grabbed your hand and repeated your name. You turned to look at him, your face now inches from his, “yeah?”

“Thank you.”

You shook your head. “It’s what you would have done, you don’t need to thank me.”

“Stay here tonight.” He whispered.

“With you?”

He smirked. “I promise I won’t hog the sheets.”

You hesitated.

“After all you’ve done I can’t let you sleep on the couch.”

“I don’t know.”

“I do. I’ll sleep better knowing you’re here next to me.”

You really didn’t want to sleep on the couch, so you shrugged and crawled around and under the sheets. Painstakingly he did the same but refused your help when you offered. When he was settled, you shut off the lamp, listening to his breathing for a few moments, almost touching his warm body in your double bed that now felt tiny.

“Bucky?”

“Firecracker?”

You stared up at the dark ceiling. “I have one more rule.”

“What’s that?”

What you really wanted to say was, “Don’t make me fall for you even more than you already have.” but what you did say was, “there’s no moaning and groaning in pain all night. I need my beauty sleep.”

He chuckled, “I can do that.”

“Oh and Bucky.”

“Yes Firecracker?”

“Last rule.”

“yes?”

“Don’t you ever do that again.”

He stayed silent like you knew he would. That wasn’t a rule he couldn’t break. If he needed to do the same thing tomorrow, then damn the consequences he would. You were in that half dreaming half-awake state when you thought you heard him whisper, “As long as I keep having you to come back to, you don’t need to worry about me.”  

[okimargarvez]

THE PUNISHER- 1

Original title: The punisher.

Prompt: mental and physical torture, guilt, contrast love, dark drama, punishment.

Warnings: Luke OOC, sexual content.

Genre: romantic, smut, comedy, angst, drama, friendship.

Characters: Penelope Garcia, Luke Alvez, BAU team, Roxy.

Pairing: Garvez.

Note: oneshot.

Legend: 💏😘😈👓🔦🐶❗👻.

Song mentioned: none.

The Punisher- Masterlist

GARVEZ STORIES

Note: this story stems from the vision of the program "Monster in my family”. I repeat: Luke is OOC, especially in the last parts of this story. If you don’t want to read, don’t do it.    

Part 1

**

About a month before

 A simple evening with the team. Nothing else. There will also be the new agent (ex-new), but it doesn't matter, she'll be able to bear him, at least for one night. There is to celebrate. They finally caught Mr. Scratch. Hotch will stop hiding. Spencer will leave the prison. Everything will be great.

So why does she feel that emptiness inside?

It's an evening just for smiling. She is the queen of smiles, hugs, anything positive and full of joy. Yet she sounds terribly false her voice as she greets the others and reaches them at the table. Obviously the only free place is between Walker and Luke. Well, it will mean that she'll focus on the real newcomer and on his baritone and relaxing voice.

-Garcia, what a beautiful bag!- Tara is right. Dressed in that way the brunette is almost unrecognizable. The mission is much simpler than expected. Agent Alvez ignores her completely, joking all the time with JJ and Rossi. Well, what do you expect? That he would did more, just because some time ago he tried to console you for Reid ? You sent him away, stupid. Or at least you tried. In order to get rid of that voice from the head, she decides to get up and go to the area where some people dancing. She really does not intend to do it, doesn't even think about it. It was more pleasant to watch Morgan doing it, even if him was immediately surrounded by female specimens of the most varied genre, attracted like bees to honey, flies to...

-Hey, baby, you're all alone?- she looks up and sees a man who is about her age, the look of someone who drank a few too much beer, empty, however well dressed and combed. She tries to ignore him, but him grabs her arm and tries to bring her closer to his body. -Where are you going? I just asked you a question. It's education to answer.- oh no, the bad and controversial binge. She is about to turn to the table with the others to see if anyone has noticed, but before she can succeed, a hand is rests on the man's arm and tightens until the grip on her is loosened.

-You don't hear, friend?- she recognizes her savior by his voice and remains speechless. -The lady said she isn't interested.- it seems like a line from a fifties movie.

-Actually, she didn't say not...- he is silenced by another dirty look and eventually the guy disappears. With great difficulty, she strives to lay her eyes on him. With that light blue shirt, he's more attractive than usual, the old-fashioned pants... and doesn't need many accessories to seem handsome. She must be able to thank him. Even if he interfered in things that didn't concern him... yet. It's too difficult and all she can do is give him a smile.

-Are you ok?- he seems worried. She nods. -This place is filling up with scum, lately ...- he does everything to start talking, or it's just an impression? -Garcia...- he hesitates -You want to go take a walk?- and now? But she can't say no and then follows him to the exit. She has time to catch the strange and mischievous looks of their friends and colleagues. -There's one thing I have to tell you, a burden from which I have to free myself... I can't keep it up.- it can't be that what she thinks is about to happen. It's not possible. But everything leaves believe this. He takes her by the shoulders, as if to seek strength from contact with her -I'm in love with you, Penelope and I'm practically from the first moment I saw you. I think you're beautiful and I struggle to keep my eyes away by your body, when you're not there I imagine you, at night, by day, with open or closed eyes. You're always in my mind. Seeing you feel so bad for Reid killed me. Hearing you joke with Walker made me so much jealous. I can't even think of you with Morgan, how it must have been your relationship... I can't. I just want you to look at me at least once in the way you looked always at my dog.- the speech was too long and in the end he is silent. Gradually the emphasis seems to leave the human body and keep only mix of sadness and despondency. As if he was convinced that she can't feel anything for him.

He actually said this. He said he is in love with me. Love at first sight. I can trust? It could be a joke, or put to the test, like that of Tara with the story of his brother, about how I wouldn't be able to keep to myself a private conversation? They wouldn't go that far. All's fair, but don't play with feelings. But if he is sincere, he is definitely waiting for an answer and she can't even open her mouth, let alone to make him understand that she likes him. So, there's only one thing to do. And if it was a joke, at least she'll take off the pleasure.

Penelope puts her hands on his shoulders and bracing herself rises on tiptoe to put their faces at the same height. I said that he was too tall. I need a ladder to reach his lips. She leaves spend a moment in which stares intently in his dark eyes as hers and then leans her mouth on his gently. When she tries to move away, she feels his arms wrap her back and press her firmly against his body. She feels all the muscles through the thin layer of tissue, and something else, that moving lower. This can really there for me? Judging by how he leads her in this waltz of tongues, the answer is yes.

After they nearly ended in apnea, while maintaining tight control over her, he approaches his lips to her ear and whispers -We're moving to a place... more comfortable?- if she was another person, if she was one of those women with super model physical, perhaps she would think that he just wants to sleep with her. But someone like her, things like that don0t happen. However...

-But... and the others?- all she can say as a protest. He shrugs indifferent. The hand so big and hot lands on her right hip with his fingers toward down, a bit 'too enterprising as to leave foreshadow what awaits her.

-I go in and I say that you don't feel very well and cause I have to get up early, I'll take you home.- he simply offers. She would never have done him so strategist. In fact, she doesn't know what imagined about him. She knows so little about him. And that doesn't make him even more intriguing? If she had a mirror might be able to see what looks abandoned and nods, as she drifts like a mannequin into the car with him, the way she wears the seat belt and promises to wait for him there. As soon as he disappears inside the room, her curiosity gets the better and she opens the dashboard, seeks to capture more information as possible from what it's inside. But she remains disappointing. As well as his desk, it's just as empty and anonymous. She closes it with a disappointed sigh. Then she starts to giggle with nervousness.

Fortunately, Luke reappears after a few minutes. He opens the door, check that the rearview mirror is correctly positioned and then, grabbing her chin, greets her with a kiss that makes immediately tighten the eyelids to Penelope. She usually isn't leave so much the reins to another, but with him comes naturally, is very different from Kevin or Sam. She detaches but keeps only a few millimeters between them -Now we can go.- his smile is sly, satisfied. Gratified.

 -Why don't we play a game, Penelope?- the request had seemed strange, but in the end she had never liked the normality. And so, she had accepted, without knowing what game. Big mistake. The first in a long series. -Do you like role playing?- her perfectly groomed eyebrows were arched in surprise. He doesn't want to playing doctor and nurse? Fortunately, the imagination of the ex-agent of the task force was much more developed. He hadn't waited her answer too long. -You are a young attractive woman- the latter adjective had sounded as if he were describing a dessert, suggesting to clients to try it -which comes home after a long day of work. You put the key in the lock- she was beginning to see puns everywhere? -then you place your hand on the knob and open the door. You close it behind yourself. You're exhausted and therefore you don't mind the fact that the window is slightly open and the wind is doing dancing the curtains.- a poet, a screenwriter hid behind those muscles and that dark hair and curls -You direct to the bathroom and you start undress and throw your clothes and with them the stress you have accumulated in all these hours. You take your clothes off very slowly. Every move you made seems to be directed toward an outside observer. When you're completely naked, you open water to take a shower, but at the last you remember that the bubble bath is finished. And when you turn to pick another...- yes, she felt fear in hearing him tell a synopsis of the genre, it had reminded her Psycho and beyond. But she couldn't deny having feel too many chills and vibrations and something down there, it was moving in her too.

And then there she was to carry out his instructions very carefully. After being a few minutes in the car to give him time to get it first and make sure that Roxy didn't become a third wheel. She opens the door, moves so nonchalant, thinking of being on a stage and not in real life. She likes to play. She goes to the bathroom, trembling but not showing it on the outside. To know that he is back there and that soon he'll see her natural, it makes her very anxious. And if it doesn't please him the show? But he is not a kid and she never wore things that suggest him horizons that couldn't be reached. He's got to get an idea of ​​what hid her clothes, which are now a pine cone of strips accumulated at her feet. Soon they are also achieved by the underwear. Penelope only wears her glasses, when she does the last action prescribed by her director for a night. At the exact moment when she turns his back to the shower curtain and whoever is behind it, to grab the bottle, she doesn't know what she should be expected.

Certainly not a rough hand that goes to cover her left breast, while the other sends a few fingers to exploration of unknown places. And although he is being completely busy, he is able to make her turn in his direction and kisses her, obtaining in this way the complete control over every part of her. No need to lubricate her, because she is already excited and ready for the next step. But he seems to have intended to extend more this strange game. Occasionally he is sinking with greater force, almost hurting her, only to re-emerge and immediately return inside. If she were not unable to do so, the blonde would scream at the top of her lungs, but her moans turn off inside Luke's mouth. And these are just the fingers. Think the rest...

When he seems to loosen his grip for a few seconds, Penelope finally opens her eyes and realizes that he has no clothes too. His chest spark, sweat caressing his muscles. She sees her own hands groped to brush it, almost with fear that might prove to be a chimera.

-You are so beautiful, Penelope, so infinitely beautiful. I would spend hours looking at you.- and she believes him, because basically the human being clings to what it can to survive. And she needs to feel loved, desirable, perhaps both together. He makes her walk backwards, at every step she risks of stumbling, but two male arms are there to support her. At the end she collides with something soft that she understands is a mattress. Luke raises her to the hips and puts her on it. She opens her eyes to see his eager expression. He really wants me so much? But how can he pretend so good, not being porn star? -I want to show you how I'm crazy about you... don't do anything and just relax...- it's easy to say this! He passes a hand over her eyes and pushes her to tighten the eyelids. Quickly the fingers return to deal with the lower part of her body, making precise movements and always different; but this time she doesn't have his hand to stop her to express all the pleasure she feels. After some initial embarrassment the blonde leaves herself go completely, allowing feelings to drag her into their vortex. Too soon she feels a contraction, the muscles stiffening and a liquid substance but dense come out of her. She can't do without blushes, but the fear wears off quickly when she lifts the eyelashes and she sees the satisfied expression of man, like him was the one that has had an orgasm. -You are more relaxed, now?- he asks and Penelope can only nod. Since she has entered to this house she seems to have lost the power of speech.

Luke smiles, then decides to devote himself to another area of ​​her, which is particularly interesting. -You have no idea how difficult it was to stay focused on the case, when the screen turned on and you appeared, with your colorful clothes and your necklines... unseemly.- he chuckles and manages to make her laugh too. -I saw them there and they called me, like the sirens of Odysseus, with their songs attracted me and I just wanted to cross that transparent wall and finally be captured, to discover what was left to the intuition...- he speaks so good, how good he is to flatter her. It makes her pleasure to think that she has (not completely voluntarily) put him in difficulty. Imagine him as he tried to follow the speeches of others and instead what went through his head was of a very different nature... Penelope runs her tongue over her lips, unable to hide the excitement caused by this fantasy. Luke doesn't go straight to the point, but he starts from below: from the sides of her, he touches the ribs, goes up to the shoulders and then, finally, he reaches the goal. Penelope feels shortness of breath when he first holds one breast and then the other, then both together. The rough tongue makes fun of her nipples and Penelope feels faint. She needs him to do it now; she can't resist for a long time.

And maybe what he wants is just that. -Please- she pleads him, not so differently than when he had found her in tears in her office, after she had returned from her visit to Spencer. -Please, Luke.- she replies -I cannot resist.- he stops doing what he was doing and stares her intensely. His pupils light up.

He doesn't need further pleading. The phrase that was about to turn from thought into words, is cut short in the bud and stops in Penelope's throat. Before she can even just open her mouth all the oxygen is torn off by a thrust, an intrusion that burned her. -Oh, it's so beautiful.- fortunately, she is not fully aware of the absurdities she utters. She follows his movements, she moves with him, tightens her legs around his chest to try to get even more invasive penetration. Nothing else exists: not the time before, nor the ghosts of her ex (Shane, Kevin, Sam) nor that of Battle, nor that of Derek, but not even the time after; there is only the natural scent of his skin, that of something else that she isn't able to identify, perhaps the result of the meeting of their fluids (by the way, he didn't wear a condom), there is the naked skin that rubs at each new surge, her nails planted in his back and at one point their hands intertwine, those of her with palm up, like a prisoner. She isn't able to formulate too coherent thoughts, but only to give herself to the idiot, for not having allowed herself first the privilege to discover the hidden talents of the profiler in formation.

And then a senseless melancholy takes over. No matter how beautiful and overwhelming it may be, I don't just want sex. And so far, Luke seems to have been interested in just that. And what do you want? Penelope1 asks to Penelope2. I want... walks with Roxy. Romantic dinners in strange places. Text like "We're coming, I missed you". A shoulder to cry on. Ears willing to listen to my nonsense. But above all... a person who falls in love with my sad look and not with my smile, is the answer of the latter. It's something that has always happened to her, that of having moments in which the excitement seems to vanish all at once.

She doesn't know if he realizes it, but he presses her harder on the bed, making her feel as if she couldn't do anything to stop what is happening, only endure it. And this thing reignites the spark, just in time to feel invaded by his semen. He doesn't move away immediately, he stays there. To wrap her like a human blanket. After a few seconds he hugs her and places her head on his chest. And after some time, he takes her chin with one hand to lay his lips on hers. Their legs intertwine.

-I have always dreamed of seeing you wear my shirt... at least from the first time you called me Newbie...- Luke breaks the silence, while the hands caress her cheeks, hair, everything they find in their path. Penelope shows herself for once strangely shy, by her standards.

-Are... are you sure I'll can wear it?- she tries to joke, but the irony goes off instantly in the clash with what she feels like a sad truth. And maybe a part of the blonde wants to test him.

-Did not you believe me when I told you you're beautiful? I can't imagine you different than you are. Your generous curves remind me of the Venus of Botticelli.- he knows also art? But who is he? -The aesthetic beauty standards haven't always been those of today, you know it, no?- he not wait for her to nod. -In prehistoric cultures the ideal woman was even more shapely than you.- he laughs, a laugh with soft hints. He grabs the cell phone that is on the bedside table. He types some terms and then he shows her the result. He used Venus of Willendorf as a research key. The image is that of a statuette representing a stylized female figure: the characteristics typical of the genre, the prosperous bosom, the lower abdomen and wide hips; the rest is hardly sketched. Penelope's eyes widen, her eyelids blink. -What mattered, once, was that the woman was fertile and this could hardly happened, if she was a manikin who could barely standing!- Luke manages to snatch a smile from her. -You want to show so strong, Garcia- he voluntarily calls her by last name -but inside, you're so insecure. Don't let be conditioned you by the system. Don't do what you reproach others.- what the heck she can replay? Why he does make her feel so stupid and ignorant? Is not that Spencer has taken over the body of Agent Alvez?

The blonde thanks him with a tender kiss. -So... that shirt?- they burst out laughing.

 During the night Penelope has a nightmare and once gone out of it, she is afraid to open her eyes and discover that it's reality. But gradually she feels a pleasant weight, that of the man's arm around her waist. And when she trying to move her legs, the movement is partially prevented by a ball of about thirty kilos, including the hair. So, she immediately goes back to sleep with a relaxed and satisfied sigh, like the purr of the cat that she doesn't have.

________________________

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[snelbz]

Life As We Know It {Chapter 17}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Occasional surprise chapters could be posted at miscellaneous times. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara’s blogs! >> @tacmc.​

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

It had been a long day.

They hadn’t done jack shit, but a long day nonetheless, thanks to the run in with Tomas.

After eating lunch, Cassian had taken Nyx out to the pool, letting him float around in his little inner tube and splash in the water. He kept a close eye on him and he wasn’t sure he’d heard so many giggles from the little dude in months.

Not even fifteen minutes after they’d come out, Nesta decided to join them, though it wasn’t to play and splash like Nyx. No, she brought a book hat, and tanning oil, but Nyx squealed his delight when he saw her regardless.

After some goading and thinly veiled threats to splash her smutty book if she didn’t get in, Nesta relented and Nyx had the time of his life.

Until he got chlorine in his eye and had a meltdown.

Just like that, pool time was over, and after taking him inside and getting changed, Cassian was lounging on the couch while Nyx played on the floor.

Nesta started up the stairs and said, “I think I’m going to take a bath. Relax from…earlier.”

From that piece of shit Tomas and the things he’d said. Cassian wished he’d of at least said something, but he most wished he’d have throttled him.

Cassian simply nodded and Nesta was off, hurrying up the stairs and shimmying out of her bikini once she closed herself inside of the master bathroom.

She hadn’t been in the warm water with her eyes closed for five minutes before a horrid sound came from downstairs.

One word screamed at the top of Cassian’s lungs, her name.

“NESTA!”

For a moment, she thought she had imagined it. But, then he screamed again.

“NESTA!”

She shot up in the tub and was about to yell back, when she heard, “COME QUICK!”

Panic rose in the pit of her stomach as she jumped out of the tub and wrapped a towel around her wet body as she threw open the bathroom door. “I’m coming! I’m coming! What happened?! What’s wrong?!”

“Come on, come on, come on!” Cassian yelled, but it wasn’t fear in his voice - only excitement. “Hurry, before you miss him!”

Nesta rounded the top of the stairs, and froze. A few feet in front of Cassian, on his own two feet, was Nyx, taking slow, steady steps toward his uncle.

Her feet carried her down the stairs in a flash and she was next to Cassian, on her knees, just like he was. At the appearance of his aunt, he grinned, those angelic cheeks rounding out and reached for her.

And he tumbled down.

“Shit,” Cassian muttered and lifted him back onto his unsteady feet, praying they weren’t about to have more tears. But the dark blue eyes that gazed up at him were not tear-filled, just wide and curious as always.

Taking a few more tentative steps, he reached them, leaning into Cassian, but a hand reaching out to take Nesta’s as he animatedly spoke in his own baby language.

“Good job, bubba,” Nesta cried, hoisting him up into her arms and crushing him in a hug. “Such a big boy.”

Nyx giggled and wiggled to be put down.

He wasn’t done just yet.

His feet hit the ground and he was off. He walked from Nesta to Cassian then back again. Every time he fell down, he got right back up and kept on moving.

“Look at you go, buddy,” Cassian laughed, catching Nyx as he made it to him.

“Think he’ll sleep good tonight?” Nesta asked, watching them both with a smile on her face.

“I hope so,” he chuckled, letting Nyx pat him on the face, grinning up at him.

He meandered back across the room, plopping down at his toys and began playing again.

“And I guess we’re done with that,” he laughed, standing up and shaking his head. “He finally walked.”

“Sixteen months,” she sighed, propping a hip on the side of the couch. “I was starting to think he’d never do it.”

“Me either,” he said, sitting down. He glanced up at her—and froze.

He’d completely forgotten she was wearing nothing but a towel.

“Didn’t we have a rule about coming down here nude?” Cassian asked, under his breath.

Nesta’s eyes darted to his. “Pardon?”

His eyebrows raised and he gestured to her towel, and Nesta looked down, as if she had completely forgotten that she was wearing it, too. “Oh, shit, sorry. I was in such a hurry to come downstairs-.”

“I mean, I don’t blame you-.”

“I could’ve put on something-.”

“I was screaming your name-.”

“Screaming my name,” Nesta repeated, her cheeks heating. Last time Cassian had screamed her name, it had been under very, very different context.

Although, she had been wearing little to nothing then, too.

The memories flashed through her mind, and from the way Cassian was watching her, she assumed that they were flashing through his, too.

She watched as his throat bobbed and his eyes left hers, dragging down her body as if he couldn’t stop himself. He met her gaze again and she felt her cheeks heating. Her cheeks, her ears, her neck, her entire body heated under that gaze.

“I’m going to…” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder, towards the stairs. “Finish my bath, I guess.”

“Right,” Cassian replied, his eyes still on her. “I’ll put him down in just a few minutes.”

She glanced over at the baby as she backed up toward the stairs. Nyx was indeed starting to rub his eyes, and noticing Nesta’s attention on him, he yawned and reached for her.

Before she could cross the room, Cassian was on his feet and picking Nyx up.

“I can take him,” she protested, but he shook his head, not looking at her.

“You go relax. I’ve got him.”

Nesta cleared her throat and nodded, convincing herself to say nothing more as she hurried up the stairs, clinging to her towel.

She settled back into the bath, even though the water had chilled.

She couldn’t control her breathing.

She thought of that time when he’d caught her in the bath before, right after they had moved in, when he caught her doing intimate things with herself, alone.

Then she thought of the immense amount of pleasure that he’d given her, and how nothing and no one had ever compared to it.

Her heart began to beat a little bit faster, and a throbbing formed between her thighs.

She wondered if Cassian ever caught himself thinking about it, if he ever wanted to do it again.

Judging by the look in his eyes downstairs, the intense way he had been watching her…

Nesta pulled herself out of the tub.

She dressed and pulled her hair into a ponytail atop her head, but couldn’t decide if going downstairs would be a good or bad idea. She couldn’t decide if being around him right now was a smart decision, not when the thoughts in her head were so distracting she couldn’t even focus on the laundry she had neglected to fold for a few days.

Her phone vibrated where she’d plugged it in on her nightstand and Balthazar’s name lit up the screen.

That was another reason she couldn’t allow herself to entertain the thoughts constantly running through her head. She and Bal weren’t in a relationship, they were in no way exclusive and hadn’t had that conversation, but Nesta wasn’t the type to date—or in this case, sleep with—two men at once.

She could hear Cassian down in the living room again, no doubt cleaning up Nyx’s toys and settling down with a beer. She wanted to join him, wanted to curl up on the other side if the couch with a glass of wine and listen to him commentate whatever stupid show or game he was watching.

But she knew that wasn’t a good idea.

So she laid down on her bed, grabbed the book from her nightstand, and read until all of those emotions that Cassian made her feel faded into the back of her mind where she told them to stay.

*

The next morning, Cassian was on Nyx duty. Since he had the day off, the nanny didn’t have to come, which meant bro time.

First, they went for a jog along the Sidra where both Nyx and Cassian got their fair share of looks from the ladies. Turns out a cute kid was a great way to gain the attention of beautiful women.

On the way back home, Cassian decided to make a detour for some lunch, and ended up pushing the jogging stroller right into Nesta’s restaurant.

He knew where it was, and knew that Nesta was a damn good cook, but somehow, he hadn’t visited the restaurant in the over four months they’d been living together.

It was packed, to absolutely no surprise and when he walked in, he was greeted by an amazing array of delicious smells. Quickly realizing the stroller was going to be a hindrance, he parked it in the corner by the door and held Nyx as he made his way into one of the sitting areas.

“It’s open seating, so please, sit where you like.”

Cassian turned as a deep voice spoke from behind him. The man was watching him, and when he turned, his eyes fell on Nyx. Recognition lit them up for a moment, Nesta having brought Nyx into the restaurant more than once.

“Thanks. Is Nesta free?”

“Last I saw, she was helping out in the kitchen, but I’ll check. Take a seat and I’ll be back.”

Cassian nodded and the man was gone, disappearing through a swinging door to the back.

Indeed, Nesta was manning the grill, an assortment of sandwiches, meats, pancakes and other items sizzling around her. She was reading order tickets and communicating with her line cooks, and everything was exactly as it should be.

Until Helion was leaning on the wall next to her.

She groaned. “Tell me it’s not the lady who claims to find a hair in her food every time she’s here.”

The patron in question was in the dining room, a brunch buffet spread out before her and her friends. Her curly, red hair was piled on top of her head and without fail, she always seemed to find a lone, red, curling hair in her dishes, no matter what she ate and who was in the kitchen. Even though Nesta had no one in her employment with curly, red hair.

“Oh, no,” Helion said, his smirk growing. “There’s a handsome man out front asking for you.”

Balthazar.

Nesta groaned. Even though she didn’t mean to. “Let him know I’m busy, but I’ll be out in just a minute.”

“It’s not him,” he replied, practically singing the words. “This one has a very cute baby with him.”

She was moving before he’d finished speaking, hollering at one of her cooks to take up her place on the line.

When she went into the dining room, Cassian was sitting in a booth, Nyx in a high chair at the end of the table next to him.

“What a pleasant surprise,” Nesta crooned as she approached.

Nyx’s head whipped around at the familiar voice as Cassian looked up from his menu. Nesta was lifting Nyx out of the high chair when Cassian said, “We were out and about. Someone was hungry.”

Nesta chuckled. “Was that someone you or the baby?”

“Fine,” Cassian said, grinning. “Two someones were hungry.”

Nesta snorted as she kissed Nyx’s cheek. “Couldn't have cleaned up before coming in here?” She asked, nodding to Cassian’s damp t-shirt.

He shrugged his shoulder. “This was on the way home. You should be glad we graced you with our presence.”

“Right,” she laughed softly, sitting Nyx back in the high chair and buckling him in. “Any idea what you want?”

He was flipping through the menu, and honestly, every damn thing he saw looked delicious. He smiled up at her. “Surprise us. I can’t choose.”

Smirking, she took his menu and said, “Chicken livers and brussel sprouts, coming right up.”

He rolled his eyes as she walked away, but she entered their order into the system and returned to the table, sitting down in the empty booth seat across from him.

“He have a good morning?” She asked, holding Nyx’s outstretched hand and letting him grip her thumb. He shook her hand as hard as he could and grinned up at her, babbling excitedly.

“Aside from the blow out he had this morning, I’d say so. Which he found very amusing that I had to clean up” Cassian chuckled, rolling his eyes. “This is the only kid who laughs while he’s covered in shit, I swear.”

Nesta shook her head, laughing softly.

Cassian took the chance to look around. “This place is great, Nes. The only thing it’s missing is a bar.”

Nesta looked around with him and nodded. “I’ve thought about it quite a bit. Don’t wanna mess with licensing. I’ve already got too much on my plate around here.”

Cassian cocked his head to the side. “You just gotta get someone to run the bar, that’s all. You don’t have to do everything on your own, you know.”

Nesta looked back to Cassian. “Someone like you?”

“Handsome, smart, with a high knowledge of what it takes to run a bar?” He asked. “Yeah, someone like me.”

She narrowed her eyes and nudged his shin with the toe of her shoe. “Don’t get too cocky. If you decide to leave your bar and want a new project… Sure, I’ll add a bar.”

Cassian blinked. “I can’t tell if you’re messing with me or not.”

Nesta shook her head. “I’m always serious.”

“At one time, I thought that was true,” Cassian muttered.

His shin got another nudge.

“I’m serious,” she repeated, with a quiet laugh. “Shockingly enough, you’d be one of the few people I trust to let into my management.”

He stayed quiet for a minute, long enough that she glanced at him from where she’d been looking at Nyx. He was chewing on his bottom lip and she had to physically restrain herself from reaching over and working it out from between his teeth. Feeling her attention on him, he looked at her, and said, “We’ll talk about it more at home, yeah?”

Nodding, Nesta replied, “Of course. But don’t just do it because I said something, I don’t want-.”

“I’ve actually been thinking about opening my own place for while,” he murmured, and then quickly added, “Not that this would be my place, it’s yours, of course. But I’ve got savings. I can help with any applications and licensing and renovations that need to be done. Not to mention, it would be an investment in a growing business. That always looks good in a portfolio.”

Nesta smiled. “Like you said, we’ll talk about it at home. I’m gonna go check on your food.”

“Please do,” Cassian said, waving her away. “I’m starving.”

With a roll of her eyes, she stood up and walked toward the kitchen, shoving Cassian’s sweaty head as she walked by him.

Helion was waiting by the kitchen doors. “Flirting, how cute. It’s like watching two horny teenagers.”

“Fuck off,” Nesta muttered.

Helion only grinned and followed her into the kitchen. “Admit it. You’ve got the hots for hot uncle.”

“I can fire you, you know,” Nesta said.

“You wouldn’t,” he said, right on her heels. “You’d be bored to death here without me.”

She didn’t need to bother telling him he was right. On either front.

*

Nesta was beat by the time she got off. It was an effort of will to make it home before she fell asleep, but as she parked her car in the driveway, she nearly sighed in relief. Cassian had said he’d handle dinner, so she knew that a glass of wine—and hopefully, an uninterrupted bath—was in her future.

She hadn’t expected to find Cassian on his hands and knees as soon as she came in the door.

He looked up at her, eyes wide and said, “Uh, hey. You’re home.”

“I am,” she replied, chuckling. “What are you doing?”

He hesitated before saying, “Playing hide and seek with Nyx.”

Nesta blinked. “Hide and-? Cassian, he’s one.”

“I left him on the floor with his toys and I went into the kitchen for thirty seconds to check on dinner,” he said, standing up.

She waited for him to go on, not understanding. And then her eyes widened. “You lost him?”

“He’s not lost,” he said, holding his hands up. “We’re playing hide and seek.”

“Cassian-.”

“He’s one, Nesta, he couldn’t have gone far-.”

“He walks now!” She cried, tossing her purse on the bench by the door and hurrying into the living room.

A giggle sounded from the other room, and they both sped around the corner where Nyx had made himself perfectly happy.

In the laundry room, Nyx sat in a pile of Nesta’s laundry, waving her underwear in the air.

As Nesta let out a relieved breath, Cassian chuckled. “Atta boy.”

Nesta whacked Cassian on the shoulder before picking Nyx up and freeing her panties from his grasp.

He immediately started crying.

“Way to take his toy away,” Cassian muttered.

Nesta shot him a look.

Cassian shrugged. “I would’ve cried, too.”

Nesta tried her best not to laugh, but failed. “You’re ridiculous.”

Cassian opened his mouth to reply, but the smoke alarm near the kitchen began to blare.

Nyx’s cries got louder and Nesta stopped Cassian, giving Nyx to him and hurried into the kitchen, pulling a pan of burnt French fries out of the oven and opened the back door and the door leading to the garage. She got a kitchen towel and was waving the smoky air away from the smoke alarm, and after a minute or two, the incessant blaring ceased.

Leaning back against the counter, she took a deep breath and looked at the doorway, finding Cassian standing there, Nyx still in his arms, though the tears had stopped. He was cringing, expecting her to start yelling any moment—.

But Nesta took one look at the charred French fries and started laughing. Deep, belly laughs that made her stomach hurt so badly she doubled over.

Cassian turned to the living room, getting Nyx set up in his playpen, and walked back into the kitchen, where Nesta was still laughing with her hands on her knees, trying to get air down.

“You find something funny, Archeron?” He asked, pausing in front of her. Even he was unable to stop the small smile on his face.

“French fries?” she asked, unable to catch her breath. “You— You burnt frozen french fries? How long have they been in there? Two hours?”

Cassian looked behind him at the clock on the stove and rubbed the back of his neck. “I like them crispy.”

“Oh, they’re crispy,” Nesta promised, straightening her back, small bouts of laughter still finding their way out. “They’re really damn crispy.”

“Shut up,” he muttered, shaking his head. He pulled a series of paper towels off the stovetop and revealed a tray of chicken nuggets and a pot of cooked broccoli. “At least I didn’t burn everything.”

“Chicken nuggets and broccoli?” she asked, her grin still wide. “Kids barely old enough to eat solids and we’re already having kid dinners?”

“Kid dinners?” Cassian repeated. “You’re lying your ass off if you’re telling me that you don’t enjoy a big ass plate of chicken nuggets.”

Nesta laughed, shaking her head. “They’re dinosaur shaped!”

“The dino ones taste better!” Cassian protested.

“We’ll see about that,” Nesta said, and just as she looked up at Cassian, she realized how close he’d stopped from her.

He couldn’t have been more than a foot away, but he felt much closer.

Nesta’s laughter died down, although that light feeling in the pit of her stomach remained.

One of his hands was braced on the counter she leaned on, and though he wasn’t caging her in, she couldn’t help but stare up at him.

“At least it’s not breakfast again,” she murmured, noting the way he was staring at her, too.

“You’ve never complained about my breakfast,” he said, swallowing roughly.

She tracked the way his Adam’s Apple bobbed. “Well, you’ve never burnt it, so.”

The corner of his mouth twitched and she knew he was trying his hardest not to smile. He opened his mouth to reply, but Nyx started talking from the other room, babbling and nonsense and baby language reaching them.

Cassian seemed to realize how close he stood to her and backed up a step, clearing his throat. “If you want to grab him, I’ll put some fresh fries in the oven.”

Nodding, Nesta said, “Yeah, of course.”

“I’m making them crispy, though,” he said, as she left.

Nesta snorted as she shook her head and lifted Nyx out of his pack n play. “Your uncle is nuts. Yes, he is.”

Nyx’s grin melted Nesta’s heart.

Forty minutes later, once the french fries were sufficiently crispy, the three of them were sitting at the table, eating dinner. Nesta didn’t mind it, not one bit, the fact that they sat there every night and ate together.

It was almost as if they were a family.

An odd, dysfunctional, interestingly beautiful family.

[snelbz]

Life As We Know It {Chapter 26}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Occasional surprise chapters could be posted at miscellaneous times. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara’s blogs! >> @tacmc.​

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Nesta awoke with a pounding headache and the need to vomit, even though she was fully aware her stomach was completely emptied out. She began to shift on the mattress, but froze when she realized that a heavy arm was draped across her waist.

Behind her, Cassian was sleeping soundly, spooned up against her.

Stay.

She remembered asking that of him the night before, remembered everything from the night before.

She had been drunk, horribly drunk.

They had fought.

She had tried to sleep with him.

She had vomited all over the kitchen.

He had cleaned it up.

He had cleaned her up.

He had carried her to bed.

He had stayed.

She hadn’t deserved for him to stay.

Carefully and slowly, Nesta took Cassian’s hand and removed it from her body before dragging herself quietly out of the bed and sneaking out of the room.

She had been so fucking irresponsible the night before, shouldn’t have ever tried to drive here, yet here she was. No wonder Cassian had been so pissed.

She planned on getting a quick cup of coffee to settle her stomach and sneaking out, but as she found Elain in the kitchen, she knew that was no longer possible.

Her sister, never one for anger, raised an eyebrow. “You owe me for my landscaping.”

Nesta cringed and dropped into a seat at the end of the table. Her head fell into her hands with a smack. “I know, I’m sorry.”

A cup of coffee appeared in front of her and Nesta did nothing but breathe in the life-changing scent for a minute, her forehead still pressed into her hand.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Elain said, leaning against the counter. “I love having you here. But as far as I knew, Cassian was staying here because you were at the house. Imagine my surprise when I find both of your vehicles in my driveway this morning.”

Nesta cringed, yet again.

“And the bush by my mailbox flattened,” Elain added, sipping from her steaming mug.

Nesta groaned, her head falling against the tabletop. “I fucked up, I get it.” There was no malice in her voice, only exhaustion.

The chair across from her was pulled out and Elain sat down with a sigh. “You know I’m not letting you leave until we talk about this, right?”

Nesta huffed. “Talk about what?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Elain sighed. “The fact that you showed up at my house at midnight, drunker than you’ve been since college, to fight with Cassian?”

Nesta looked up at her.

“At least, that’s my husband’s version,” Elain said, watching her sister. “Correct me if I’m wrong.”

Nesta leaned back in her chair and shook her head, slowly. She fiddled with the fabric around her thighs, only now realizing that she was in Cassian’s shirt.

He had taken her dirty dress off and replaced it with something clean, something of his.

“I don’t even know where to begin,” Nesta said, simply.

“How about promising me you’ll never be stupid enough to get behind the wheel while drunk again?” Elain asked, a slight edge to her voice. “The last thing I need is you getting in an-.”

Her words dropped off and she shook her head, sipping from her mug to avoid the word that Nesta knew was meant to come next.

Accident.

A newfound guilt flooded Nesta’s stomach. She felt like she was going to puke all over again. How could she do that, after all that had happened? After what had happened to Feyre and Rhysand?

“I fucked up,” she said, again, and leaned across the table to take Elain’s hand. “I was drunk, I made a poor decision in the heat of the moment because I was pissed, and I was irresponsible. I know that, and trust me, I am full of regret and feel like a fucking idiot this morning. I promise, Lainy, that I’ll never make that mistake again.”

Elain looked at her for a moment before her eyes softened and she nodded. “Good. I believe you. Now, care to tell me why you made such a dumbass decision to begin with?”

Dumbass. Elain rarely swore.

“Cassian and I had sex in the store room last night,” she sighed, not looking at Elain.

“You what?” Her voice raised an octave.

“Shh,” she said, glancing around her to the living room beyond. “I don’t know how exactly it happened, but it did. I went in there for some air, he followed me, and we got into it. Next thing I know, my back is against the far wall, he’s buried inside of me, and I’m halfway to an earth shattering orgasm.”

Elain had stilled, her mug midway to her lips as she stared at her sister. She repeated, “You what?”

“I don’t need a lecture if that’s what you’re building up to,” Nesta snapped.

Elain sighed, setting her mug down on the table. “It’s either a lecture or silence.”

Nesta just shook her head.

“Nesta, that man is madly in love with you,” Elain said, lecturing, anyway. Nesta stared at the table. “And you love him, too. This…unhealthy need to push everything and everyone away that makes you happy is going to make you nothing but miserable in the end and, I’m sorry, but I’m not going to let you be miserable.”

Nesta shook her head. “Feyre wouldn’t want—.”

“No,” Elain interrupted, her voice going harder than Nesta typically heard it. “Feyre would want you to be happy. She’s gone, Nesta.” Her eyes lined with tears as she reached across the table and took Nesta’s hands. “She’s gone, and yes, maybe that’s the only reason that you and Cassian ended up together, but you know what? Maybe it’s not. Maybe you and Cass would’ve ended up together at another time, another place, but you didn’t. This is how it happened. And Feyre, wherever she is, is so damn happy that you two are happy. She wanted you two to be together five years ago, and she wants you to be together now, if he’s who makes you happy. You can’t feel guilty, Nesta. Your happiness does not deserve guilt.”

Nesta said nothing, didn’t bother wiping the tear that fell down her cheek.

“You love him,” Elain said, and it wasn’t a question.

Which meant that Nesta didn’t answer.

“He cleaned up your puke and carried you to bed after you treated him like garbage,” Elain said, her voice lightening. “Men like that don’t just come around, Nes.”

A door opened and closed from the back of the house and Elain picked up her coffee, standing.

“Where are you going?” Nesta whispered, her eyes going wide.

“You need to talk to him,” Elain said, heading for the living room. She didn’t say another word to her sister, but she heard her start up the stairs. “Good morning, Cass. And good morning to you, sweet boy.”

She didn’t hear a response from either of them, so she assumed Nyx was still dozing on Cassian’s shoulder, but Elain’s soft footsteps retreated up the stairs.

“Morning.”

She turned to find Cassian leaning against the doorway. Nyx, indeed, was still near sleeping where he had his head resting against Cassian, holding onto his shirt.

Clutching her coffee cup, Nesta breathed, “Good morning.”

“How are you feeling?” he asked, walking to the fridge and opening the door, pulling out a jug of orange juice.

“Honestly?” she muttered. “Shitty.”

Cassian snorted. “I’d say so.”

Silence ensued, and Cassian kissed Nyx’s forehead as he handed him to Nesta. “I’ll get him some breakfast.”

Nesta nodded, taking the sleepy baby and letting his head fall against her chest.

Cassian got oatmeal out of the pantry and mixed it with some milk before cutting strawberries into small squares. The entire time, Nesta watched him. The entire time, Cassian didn’t say a thing.

She could see the way his back muscles flexed through his old, white t-shirt.

It made her weak in the knees.

“Dada,” Nyx said, arm outstretched to Cassian.

“Almost ready, buddy,” he promised.

As Cassian walked toward the table, Nesta put Nyx in the highchair. She’d move him once Seph was awake and ready to eat. She had a feeling Nyx would be finished long before that, though, because the second Cassian sat the bowl on the tray, Nyx’s hands were covered in oatmeal.

Cassian chuckled and retreated back away from the table.

Nesta cleared her throat. “Cass?”

“Hmmm?”

“I-,” she hesitated, and sighed. “Thank you. For last night. I’m… I’m sorry, I was completely out of line-.”

“It’s fine,” he interrupted, pouring himself a glass of orange juice.

“It’s not fine.” He still hadn’t turned back to look at her. “It’s not, at all. What I did last night was stupid and irresponsible and selfish. And you took care of me and I didn’t deserve it. So… Thank you and I’m sorry.”

He was quiet for another minute, pouring a cup of coffee alongside his juice. “You’re welcome. Like I said, it’s fine. It happened, you recognize it was a dumbass decision to make. Just don’t make it again.”

She nodded, though he still couldn’t see her, since he still had his back to her.

Nesta asked, “Can we… Can we talk about last night?”

“I don’t know what there is to talk about, Nes,” he sighed, finally turning to look at her. He leaned back against the counter. “Before or after you showed up drunk?”

“Both,” she stood up and crossed the kitchen toward him. She suddenly remembered she was wearing nothing but his t-shirt. “Like I said, I was way out of line.”

Cassian watched her for a moment before letting out a breath, his shoulders sagging. “Yeah, well… The store room was just as much me as it was you, so don’t apologize for that one.”

Nesta nodded, and looked over at Nyx, stuffing his face. “Do you regret it?”

A beat passed. “The store room?”

She nodded.

Cassian drank from his glass. “Do you?”

I asked you first, she wanted to say, but didn’t. Instead, she said, “It was unprofessional.”

“That’s not an answer,” he said.

“Neither is refusing to answer the question at all,” Nesta pointed out.

Cassian snorted. “Fair.”

They fell into silence, yet again, the only sounds coming from Nyx and his excitement about food.

“Is that all you have to say this morning?” Cassian asked, and she knew he was looking at her, so her eyes remained on the floor.

“I apologized,” she said. “I thanked you. What else is there to say?”

Cassian nodded, apparently that was answer enough for him. “Alright, well, Viv is planning on meeting you and Nyx back at the house at noon. I’ll see you at work.”

He turned his back to her and started walking out of the kitchen.

“Wait,” Nesta breathed, making her way toward him. “There is one more thing I’d like to say, like to ask.”

Cassian stopped and slowly turned to face her.

It was all too familiar. Him, in his sweatpants and old tee. Her, in his shirt, after a night spent cuddled up together.

Even if the night before had been under completely different circumstances.

She cleared her throat. “I think you should come back home, Cass.”

He searched her eyes, searched for the underlying meaning. “Why?”

“Because Nyx misses you,” Nesta said, without missing a beat. “He misses seeing you everyday.”

“Is he the only one?” Cassian asked, taking a step toward her.

“Cassian,” she breathed, shaking her head.

He nodded, slowly, taking a deep breath. “That’s what I thought.”

He turned around, but Nesta reached out for him. “Cassian, please, just come back-.”

“I can’t,” he said, quietly. “I can’t be there, every day, seeing you, and not being able to do something as simple as give you a hug, Nes. I can’t be there and pretend like things are fine, and that I’m not completely miserable. I can’t. I can’t do that. I’m not ready for that.”

The brush of her fingers against his arm felt like a brand and it took everything in him not to rip it from her grasp.

“I’m going to get ready,” he said, as calmly as he could. “I’ll see you at work. Viv will be there at noon to watch him.”

Her fingers fell away as he stepped out of reach and walked back through the living room and down the hall. As always, he never slammed the door. He never let his anger get the best of him. She heard it shut with a soft click.

“Mama?”

Nesta whirled, her eyes falling on Nyx. He was a sticky mess, oatmeal and smashed strawberries all over his hands and cheeks, but he was looking right at her. “Mama,” he repeated, holding out the empty bowl for her. As if he was saying, all done.

She gave him the best smile she could muster, before crossing the room and taking the bowl from him. “Thank you, sweet boy.”

A few minutes later, she’d left the bowl soaking in the sink, had wiped him down as best she could and had nabbed a pair of leggings from Elain’s clean laundry. She didn’t want to have to interrupt Cassian to ask about her dirty dress.

Without another word to anyone, she packed Nyx up in the car and was gone, heading for home. A few minutes later, she pulled in the driveway, but she couldn’t ignore the fact that something was missing.

Without that stupid truck parked next to her car, it didn’t feel quite like home. Going inside and not finding a game on the TV, or the smell of bacon cooking this early, it didn’t feel like home.

Without Cassian there, nothing did.

And she knew she was the only one to blame.

[thorne93]

Inside the Criminal Mind (Part 9)

Prompt: You’re married to Dr. Spencer Reid of the BAU, and are a distinguished doctor yourself on the team. You’re sent down to Miami, Florida for teaching and as a side request from the FBI, to investigate a string of missing persons. When you think you’ve figured out who the unsub is, your life becomes more complicated than you ever could’ve imagined.

Word Count: 1447

Warnings: (throughout the fic –>) death, blood, gore, killings, language, disturbing mental notions, mentions of rapes/murder/etc (You know, Dexter and Criminal Minds related business)

Notes: Thank you so much to @arrow-guy​​​​, @carryonmyswansong​​​​, and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​ - without each of you, I couldn’t have finished, written, or properly navigated this story. Each of you helped me fish out details that were incredibly important to me. Beta’d by @carryonmyswansong​​​​ and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​… Aesthetic by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​

This is a crossover of Criminal Minds x Dexter. First time writing Dexter.

Also, the timeline is after Season 1 of Dexter, but during season 14-ish of Criminal minds into Season 15. Enjoy!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rossi’s wedding was tomorrow and you had a flight to catch tonight to meet Spencer tomorrow morning. You were sure this was fine with Dexter, hell he probably wanted to be alone with Rita or have a night to himself anyway. The two of you had been in constant contact. 

“So I’m flying home for the weekend,” you sent in a text after your class. 

“Why?” 

“I’ve got a wedding to attend.” 

“We’re in the middle of something,” he reminded.

“It will have to wait. If I don’t go, it’ll look bad. You can wait three days to pursue this.” 

“Fine. Text me when you get back.” 

“Will do.” 

After your last class, you got in a cab and went to the airport straight from campus. When you arrived, Spence was actually on a case, leaving you to have your home all to yourself. This was a great time to get some laundry done, find your outfit for the wedding, and get prepared for tomorrow. 

The following morning, the door clicked open. 

“Y/N, are you here?” Spencer called out. 

At the sound of his voice, your heart leapt with joy as you raced to the foyer from the kitchen. You wrapped your arms around him, throwing your legs around his waist as he caught you, laughing. 

“It’s good to see you too,” he said through laughter. 

You immediately pulled back and started to kiss him fervently. 

“When did you get in?” he asked as you continued to pepper his cheeks and neck with kisses. 

“Last night.” 

“Well welcome home,” he said warmly before finally kissing you back. “So we’ve got to be at the wedding by 2--”

“Right, and it’s 8 am. We’ve got time.” You jumped down and grabbed him by the tie, pulling him up to the bedroom. 

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

You and Spencer laid in bed as he held you. 

“Guess you really did miss me,” he mused before kissing the top of your head. 

“More than you know,” you said dreamily. 

He sighed. “As much as I hate to end this, we do need to get showers and get going to the venue.” 

“I know, I know,” you said with chagrin. “Can’t we just blow it off? Stay here in bed.” 

He chuckled before kissing you. “I’d love that, but we have friends and responsibilities.” 

“Ugh,” you groaned as you rolled your eyes and laughed. 

The two of you showered together quickly and then got out and began getting ready. You put on a silver glittering dress while Spence got into one of his very best tuxedos.

“Wow, I know you look good in a suit, but damn.”

“Well I think round two will have to wait until after the wedding,” he said with a grin. “Ready to go?” 

You nodded. “Absolutely.” 

With your hair curled into a nice updo, your jewelry settled on you nicely, and your clutch packed and ready to go, you two exited the house and made way for the wedding.

“There she is!” Garcia said as soon as you entered. She made haste to get over to you and hug you tightly. 

“Hey, good to see you,” Matt said kindly as you two embraced before hugging Kristy, his wife. 

“Good to be back, at least for now.” 

“There’s my favorite professor,” Rossi said happily when he found you. 

“Hey,” Spencer said, as if he were offended.

“Oh come on, kid, you know I like ya, but Y/N here looks a hell of a lot better in a dress,” he said with a wink. 

“So you excited? Finally the big day!” you commented.

“Yes, it is. Wasn’t sure we were going to make it here on time.”

“Oh?” 

“It was crazy,” Tara suddenly said, piping in. “Reid and JJ were locked in a jewelry store with a guy that was playing some sick game of truth or dare. Had them tied up and everything.” 

You turned to your husband who had his arm around you. “You didn’t tell me that,” you accused, a little miffed. You two always told each other when you were in danger. 

“I hadn’t had a chance yet. I was so happy you were home and then we got ready for the wedding…” he said, trailing off.

“Well it was absolutely nuts,” Tara continued. “Reid shot the guy though. Saved JJ’s life and a judge’s. He’s a true hero, Y/N.” 

“I know he is,” you said sweetly. 

“Well we better get to our places,” Rossi said, glancing at the time. Everyone parted and made way to their assigned areas when you turned to Spence.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were in a situation?” you whispered, the anger apparent in your voice.

“There hasn’t been time. You just got home. I didn’t want the first thing we did to be for you to worry about me. I’m fine. I got a cut on my hand, that’s all.” 

“You better tell me everything that happened when we get home.” 

Then the ceremony started. It was short and sweet. The reception began and everyone was having a great time. Spence danced with you, one of your absolute favorite things to do with your husband. You danced with Rossi and Luke. Garcia, Emily, you, and Tara ended up having a hilarious four way sort of dance going. At one point, Garcia tried to get a conga line going. At that point, you were convinced everyone was tipsy. 

Emily’s speech was fantastic, and you glanced towards Spence a couple times, and at one point you found him looking at JJ. You tried to think nothing of it, but something about the fact that Tara said they were held hostage together on a case, and the fact that they were looking at each other during a sappy love speech bothered you. JJ’s expression seemed… overly sweet, and in a sense, secretive. Like when two people share something no one else knows, and they give each other a knowing glance.

You let the thought go and continued to enjoy the event. At one point, Spence went to get you a refresher on your drink while you talked to Will and Matt. However, while you engaged in conversation, JJ and Spencer seemed to be acting strangely. 

JJ got entirely too close to Spence then when she put her hand on his chest, she nervously pulled away. Red flags and alarms went off in your head but you decided to keep your composure. 

The rest of the night went rather smoothly, but you backed off the alcohol so you and Spencer could talk about the situation he was in before you got there. 

The two of you went home and you made your way up to your bedroom to start disrobing and doing your nightly beauty routine. 

“So, you wanna tell me what happened while I was gone?” you inquired lightly. 

“There’s not much to tell really,” he said nonchalantly. “We were following the unsub, his next target was the judge. We located him at a jewelry store. He put it on lockdown. We had our guns on him, but he had his gun on the retail clerk, we couldn’t get a clear shot. He told us to lower our weapons, so we did. We kicked them over to him.”

At this point you were in your bra and panties, your jewelry still on, listening. He was down to his boxers, grabbing his pajamas and getting ready for a shower.

“Spence,” you sighed. “That’s exactly the sort of thing you tell me about when you get done with the case.”

“I know,” he said, apology in his tone. “But it was already so late. I knew you’d be flying in, and I was flying. I just wanted us to relax and try to enjoy this.”

You nodded, understanding, motioning for him to continue while you got your jewelry off. 

“So he gave our gun to the judge and dared her to shoot one of us. JJ tried to distract him or talk him down. In that time, I got a piece of broken glass off the ground, cut myself loose, and shot him.”

“Ankle holster?”

A proud smile spread on his face. 

“Yes.”

“I’m glad it came in handy.”

“Me too.”

“So you saved JJ’s life and the judge’s. Wow. I’m so glad you’re okay.” You crossed the room and gave him a tight hug, thanking your lucky stars he was still here. “So how did JJ keep him distracted?”

“She played his game. Truth or dare.”

“Huh,” you mused. “Well I’m glad it all worked out.”

“Me too.” He kissed your forehead and went into the bathroom to jump into the shower. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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Spencer Reid

@camigt1999​​​​​

@ultrarebelheart​​​​​

@lenawiinchester​​​​​

@esoltis280​

[thorne93]

What Are We Gonna Do? (Part 7)

Prompt: Imagine that you’re Spencer Reid’s wife, and you get the news of his arrest in Mexico. But you’ve been keeping something from him and the team. How will it affect Spencer?

Word Count: 2329

Warnings: Language, violence, anger, drama, angst

Notes: This picks up right at the beginning of Season 12, episode 13. Spoilers from here till then. Thanks to my beta @like-a-bag-of-potatoes​

Tags: @ultrarebelheart​ @cocosierra94 @marvel-imagines-yes-please @demongodess

~~~~~~~~

The following morning, everyone was gathered around Spence’s desk, talking about him and the situation. You had walked in and no one seemed to notice it.

“Do you think Reid should’ve taken the plea deal?” Luke asked.

 “Absolutely not,” JJ emphatically responded.

 “Now that it’s off the table he's looking at 25 years to life,” Tara said.

“So, you think he should've?” JJ accused.

 “No. I’m just saying 25 years is a long time,” Tara said.

 “You’re telling me,” you interrupted.

 Everyone spun to face you with guilty looks.

 “Hey, how’re you doing?” JJ asked when she hugged you.

 “Not good. I can’t sleep or eat. I also have something I need to tell you all.”

 Every pair of eyes narrowed on you with a furrowed brow as you stood there, feeling exposed. Garcia just entered and you decided you would tell Rossi in a little bit.

 “Uh, there’s a reason I’ve been so emotional about all of this. I’m sure my behavior has been less than ideal, I understand that, but the thing is….I don’t want to raise a baby on my own,” you said as you breathed out and closed your eyes while Garcia patted your back.

 “Baby? Y/N, you’re pregnant?” JJ almost cheered. “Congratulations!”

 You shook your head. “This should be good news, right? But I can’t help but think that this is a tragedy. Spence won’t get to see the first trimester due to just being in jail waiting for trial. He won't get to see the first ultrasound --” You couldn’t talk any more as you started to cry and everyone came forward and hugged you.

 “Does Spencer know?” Tara asked.

 You nodded. You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Yeah, he found out when he got the first plea deal. I was waiting to tell him when he got home but….and I wanted to see if this would get dropped, but when he was charged and Fiona started talking about plea bargains, I knew he had to know just what he was dealing with here on the outside.”

 “We’re going to do everything humanly possible to get Reid out to see his baby. Right, guys?” Garcia vowed.

 “Absolutely,” Walker said.

 “Thank you all, so much. I didn’t want to announce this seeing as it’s not exactly a great time but…”

 “So what are you going to do about work? It can’t be easy working, thinking of cases, Reid, and the baby,” JJ said.

 “I’m not going into the field. I’ll be here with Garcia and doing paperwork mainly, so office stuff and if and when I need to leave, I can.”

 “So what are we gonna do?” Luke asked.

 “I’ve got that covered,” Garcia answered. “We’re going to send him letters every day, we’re gonna put money in his commissary account, we’re going to give Y/N and the little one tons of healthy food, snacks, and surveillance. If we aren’t with Reid, we’re helpin Y/N. She’ll need meals, help with Diana and the house. For Reid, we are going to send him puzzles, magazines, books, whatever we can think of to make sure those gorgeous gears inside that boy wonder brain are lubed up and in perfect working order to keep us on track. I took the liberty of making a chart.”

 “Oh, that’s so pretty,” JJ said.

 “You must’ve done that while I was asleep,” you noted with a small laugh.

 “What else can we do for you, Y/N?” JJ asked.

 You shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never been pregnant. I guess I need a doctor, but I don’t want to make the first trip without Spencer…”

 “We could take you, and record it and show it to him?” she offered.

 You shrugged. You really wanted Spence to actually be there, but if he wasn’t even going to trial in three months, you’d be well into your second trimester by then.

 “Let me get you set up with my doctor and we’ll go,” JJ said. You nodded, starting to become numb.

 Rossi and Emily came out and started talking about Garcia’s chart, thankfully. You weren’t sure you could stand any more attention or any more talk of babies.

 “You need a new mailing address,” Rossi said.

 “What’s going on?” Walker questioned.

 “Reid was moved from the police precinct to the Millburn Correctional facility.”

 “Oh, God,” you gasped as more tears broke free. Luke and Walker helped you into the office chair.

 Prison. He was in prison. Not jail. No. Full blown, shanking, gangs, violence, prison. You were weeping so hard you put your head down on the desk.

 “Is she gonna be alright?” Rossi asked.

 “Y/N here is gonna have Spence’s first baby,” JJ informed Rossi and you pulled your head back up.

 “Oh, no, kid,” he sighed as he shook his head.

 --------------------

 Two days later, you went to see Spence for the first time since he’d been sent to prison. They finally opened visitation. It had been hell for you. You were terrified of what he was going through and his mom was getting worse. She was fighting you and Cassie.

 You saw him come out to the visitation room and your heart floated, then sank like the Titanic. Seeing him felt like air, but toxic air. How could you absolutely love the sight of someone but hate it at the same time? Of course you loved seeing him, but seeing him in prison clothing, it made your blood cold.

 He came up to you and you stood to hug and the guard shouted, “No Touching!” You wanted to go up and punch him in the fucking face and ask him how he liked that for touching, but you swallowed your anger.

 “It’s so good to see you,” you said with a smile. You would do your best not to cry around Spence, because he didn’t need anything else clouding his mind right now.

 “I know. I’ve missed you so much. How’s everything at home? How’s the little one?” he asked with a sparkle in his eye as he glanced down to your stomach.

 You sighed a little. “Your mom is having some trouble. The little one is fine. I--uh--I’m actually going to the OBGYN with JJ and Garcia soon for my first appointment.” Your lower lip quivered and you bit down hard to stop your emotions.

 “Oh, well...that...that’ll be good,” he answered.You knew this was killing him just as much as it was killing you.

 “We’re going to record the whole thing so you can hear everything the doctor says,” you promised, happiness in your tone.

 “Oh, good,” he said and his mood darkened.

 “Are you okay? How are you doing?”

 “I’m okay,” he answered with a choke.

 “Are you sure? I...I know this can’t be easy, but you can’t shut me out, okay? We have a child on the way and we can’t fall apart now. You and I both have to keep strong, alright?”

 “I know, I know.”

 Some lewd comments were starting to be murmured about you and you noticeably saw Spencer’s demeanor change. He went from broken and sad, to stiff and on edge.

 “Don’t pay them any attention,” you said.

 “But you’re my wife, and you’re carrying my child. How am I not supposed to react?” he asked.

 “By not reacting,” you answered sternly. “While you are in here, Spencer Reid, you will do everything you can to keep your head down and out of trouble, am I making myself clear?” you demanded. You never spoke to Spence this way but he was already in a dangerous situation and his protectiveness over you didn’t need to get him hurt or worse.

 “Yes..I just don’t want them looking at you, I’m sorry.”

 You shrugged. “Sweetheart, it’s a small price to pay to see your handsome face.” You grinned at him, a tender moment occurring between you. The moment started to fizzle as you both came back down to reality though. “I--uh--I need to tell you something else.”

 “Okay, what is it?” he asked with concern as his brows knitted.

 How were you going to tell him this? Hell, you got sick yourself when you heard it. Relaying it to him now was harder than you thought.

 “Everyone thought it would be best if you heard it from me. We got the tox panel back...Scopolamine came back negative,” you said softly, avoiding his eyes.

 “What? That’s what we were using to prove Scratch did this! How are we going to do that now? He’s going to win,” he said with angering defeat.

 “No,” you countered in a defiant tone. “He will not win. He is not smarter than all of us. Okay?”

 “He’s going to get away with this, Y/N, can’t you see that?”

 “No, all I can see is my husband giving up too god damn quickly. You have got to hold onto hope for me? Please?” you begged. “I can’t do all of this alone. I can’t fight Scratch and figure out how to raise a baby and work with the team. I can’t do it all, okay? I need your help too.”

 You stared at him a second, trying to get your message through. He nodded while swallowing. You knew this was tough on him too, but you couldn’t let him give up.

 “You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m just so angry because I’m in here and I can’t do anything and I know you’re handling everything. How did I deserve someone like you?” he asked.

 “You were you. Your amazing, cute, handsome self. That’s how.”

 “Visiting hours are over,” the guard announced and your heart dropped. “Inmates line up.”

 You wanted nothing more than to hug him, kiss him, tell him it would all be okay but you couldn’t. You weren’t allowed, and that killed you. You blew him a kiss.

 “I love you,” you said as he stood up.

 “I love you too,” he said quietly. You stayed until you could no longer see him and you stood and walked out of the prison, you got to your car and started to break down. You were slowly learning how to keep your tears in, so that when you were alone you could break down. Otherwise, your friends and family would think you were some hysterical woman who couldn’t keep it together.

 You decided to go home for lunch to check on Diana.

 “Hey, Diana,” you greeted as you came in the door and dropped your things off.

 “Oh, Y/N, I’m so glad you’re here. Tell that girl to leave!” she instructed as she pointed at Cassie.

 “Why? What’s wrong?” you asked gently.

 “She’s stealing our things and she’s saying I need medicine. Hah, not likely!”

 You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You loved your mother-in-law, of course you did, but right now, you did not need one of her episodes. Not now. Not today.

 “Diana, please, this is Cassie. She’s your live-in nurse. She takes care of you while Spencer is away for work and vacation?”

 “Why aren’t you with him?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.

 “Uh, not enough vacation time. Spencer has several years on me and hardly ever took vacation so…” You shrugged and held your arms out then hit them against your legs.

 “Well I don’t want this girl looking after me.”

 “Alright, Diana, why don’t you sit on the couch while I get you some nice hot tea, and I’ll have a talk with her.”

 “You need to check her bag,” Diana insisted. You turned to Cassie and gestured that she leave the room while you get her tea. You crushed one of her pills and put it in her tea. You felt awful for lying to her but you had to get one of them down her or you wouldn’t have a peaceful night.

 You gave her the cup then stepped into the master room and closed the door.

 “Cassie, I’m so sorry. I know she can be trying. I hate to ask, but do you mind if I check your bag?”

 The brunette nurse looked shocked at first but then handed you her bag.

 “Thank you. I just...precaution, you know?” You looked through the bag and found nothing. “Just as I suspected. Is she suspicious of everything?” you asked as you sat on the bed.

 Cassie shrugged slightly. “She has good days and bad. Sometimes she’s completely aware, others she thinks I’ve broken in and come to hurt her.”

 You sighed. “Okay. Just...try to get her to take her medicine. I put some in the tea so, that’ll cover us until around 9.”

 “How was Dr. Reid?”

 “He uh...He is okay,” you answered.

 “And the little bean?” she asked. You had ended up telling Cassie and Diana because they needed to know the vital information but you didn’t go into extensive detail about why Spence was being wrongly held in prison.

 “I’m not sure. I can’t even be excited about it. I just keep thinking of Spence.”

 She came over and hugged your shoulders.

 “It’ll all work out. Your team is amazing. You’ll figure this out.”

 “Thank you, Cassie. I’m going to make some lunch then I’m heading back into the office. Is that alright?”

 “Yeah, we just finished lunch ourselves.”

 You made a sandwich and grabbed some potato chips and watched a random sitcom, finding none of the material funny. When you were done, you headed back into the office and worked on paperwork. The team was away for a case. You let yourself get lost in paper work, thankful for the distraction, and cleaning up your desk as well as Spencer’s. Before you knew it, it was 6:30 and everyone was filing into the office.

 “Hey, how’d it go?” JJ asked as she came up.

 “Okay,” you said meekly with a shrug.

 Everyone nodded, knowing there’s not much more to say in that situation.