"Spencer?"
The genius from the behavioral sciences department turned around as he was about to put on his jacket. After that complex case that had led them into the most horrific atrocities of child torture, Hotchner had given them three days off. He was going to head straight to that very interesting conference on microsurgery. After all, one of his mentors was going to be speaking. All smiles at the plan he'd drawn up as soon as their meeting ended, the young genius was finishing filing his papers so as not to be late; after all, it wasn't exactly next door. Of course, Garcia had just called him, and the young man was already expecting the worst.
"Wait, I was thinking we could do something amazing."
"Like what?"
Worried, he frowned. He wasn't against spending some time with the team outside of work, but something bothered him: Garcia was all over him! At work, he appreciated her talents, whereas in everyday life, the little old lady was his complete opposite, not hesitating to make fun of his uptight side. The smile she gave him made him uncomfortable. What had she come up with now? If this was another one of her schemes to get him to participate like last time, on a paintball outing, no thanks. He probably still had some bruises!
"Well, I invited JJ over. I have some friends I haven't seen in a while who are coming to town, we could have a good evening."
Okay, so what did this have to do with him in particular? Why not just tell his sweetheart to come along? Derek would most certainly feel comfortable with Garcia's friends. Besides, he didn't even dare imagine what they might look like! Seeing his reluctance, the little blonde gave a wry smile, her elbow gently tapping the youngest member of the group's ribs to make her intentions clearer.
"Actually, there are going to be some nice little prizes; I'm sure you might be interested."
Ah, that's the bottom line! Spencer had almost guessed it. Hadn't Derek Morgan tried to set him up with one of his childhood "friends" just a few weeks ago? Feeling uneasy, he ran a hand through his hair, clearing his throat. He wasn't exactly desperate for a girlfriend, anyway; he was uncomfortable around people his own age. Wrinkling his nose, he hesitated because the blonde, dressed in a truly horrifying color, was looking at him with that puppy-dog eyes she knew perfectly well how to use with the youngest member of the group. What's more, Garcia knew it worked at least eight times out of ten. With another sad smile, she added.
"And then there'll be JJ?"
Who hadn't noticed the way he was looking at her? No one. JJ, for one, had been amused, without malice, by the lingering gaze the group's mastermind gave her as she walked down the halls. He'd somehow managed to invite her to a game, and since then, nothing. Typical, knowing the guy. Penelope was going to try and get things going again, because she was sure there would be competition for the pretty blonde she was going to take home for that pizza and drinks night. Without waiting, she gave him a small purple card, covered in strangely stroboscopic drawings, which included her address.
"See you tomorrow night!"
And before the brunette could make the slightest objection, she grabbed her neon pink strawberry-shaped bag and started to run down the corridors, not without giving a final wave to their liaison officer.
- Um… »
Spencer Reid had just been royally duped. He looked at the menu worriedly, unsure what to wear or even what to bring. Sighing, he slumped into his chair, burying his face in his hands. What had he gotten himself into!
"Is there a problem?"
Derek had forgotten his cell phone. Normally, he should already be in his taxi, taking advantage of this quiet time to visit his mother and sisters. Instead, he'd messed up and was back where he started! What good was his phone now? Well, let's see, to find the number of an ex who, he hoped, would be happy to see him again! Old habits die hard; he loved his Casanova reputation, which hadn't been bestowed upon him lightly! He closed the phone, tucking it into his jacket pocket, and pulled up a chair opposite a completely dejected Spencer. He'd seen Penelope's unspeakable joy the moment he stepped into the lobby. Had she bothered their little genius again?
Reid was the youngest of the group; it was only natural they liked to tease him a bit. Besides, with his IQ way above average, he still acted like a child and was easily fooled. Which goes to show that intelligence isn't everything.
"She just invited me to a party to try and set me up..."
Derek grinned broadly, patting his coworker's scrawny knee. He didn't know why, but it had become a kind of challenge among the group: they had to try and coax Reid out of his statistics and his oh-so-interesting but utterly pointless theories—at least, that's how he saw them. Who cared about the whys and wherefores of a chemical reaction? He'd much rather see their little genius's magic tricks than know why a bit of sugar and a film canister could become a pretty little rocket! Seriously, he didn't care; that was the magic—explanations spoiled the fun.
"So what? It'll do you good to get out a bit, and who knows, maybe Garcia's friends will be a little less crazy than her... well... you never know!"
Derek shook his head. It was highly unlikely that her friends, whom she mentioned from time to time, were quiet girls interested in the theories of a little genius. At least there would surely be a geeky girl addicted to Star Trek or Star Wars who could hold a conversation with the brunette without talking about crazy stuff or online games. That was all the harm he wished Spencer.
"Why are you so keen to marry me off?"
Why? He was young, handsome, and lived in a bachelor pad, even dressing outside of work like a professor, or a mama's boy. Derek was almost indignant at this rhetorical question! He raised an eyebrow before beginning his answer as…diplomatically as possible.
"You're young, handsome, you deserve to be with someone. Seriously, when you finish a mission like this, you want to feel someone with you. I don't know about you, but I'm going to be seeing those kids' bodies for long, long days. We all have our outlets, but sometimes it doesn't hurt to think about something completely different. Being with Garcia will do you more good than staying home reading or attending some conference. Have some fun, sleep with a girl. You're always complaining that we make fun of your naiveté, well, now's the time, kid. You're not going to be chasing after young girls when you're fifty, it'll be too late! And above all, switch your brain off a little! For God's sake, try to enjoy the present moment by thinking about something other than your shitty statistics that nobody gives a damn about! Okay?" It's the weekend, work's over, all that's over! Your name is Spencer Reid, you're a young man like any other, you didn't get your first doctorate at fifteen and you're not four. Okay? When someone asks you what you've done, just mention one, that'll be enough. —
And what do I put?
Reid tugged slightly at his beige tie, still unsure what to wear, when Derek jumped to his feet. He was going to give him a makeover so he wouldn't look out of place! The BAU genius knew perfectly well that what his colleague was saying was true; he just occasionally felt the urge to know what the couples he saw outside were going through. He'd never tried it.
"Follow me, we're going shopping. I'll call my mother to tell her I'll be a little late. It's for a good cause! And on Tuesday, I want to hear you tell me, with stars in your eyes, how beautiful the little chick you met was and how she gave you the best kiss of your life!"
Embarrassed, his hand caressed the back of his neck. It wasn't going to be hard, that is, if he ever made it that far! After a snicker, he followed Derek with some apprehension; he didn't much like the idea of getting a makeover from someone with a reputation as a womanizer, because he was attached to the neutrality of his wardrobe and its understated colors!
His eyes widened when the Black guy brought back clothes from the various racks, in colors he'd certainly never even noticed! Reid looked at the black jeans with mixed feelings; at least they had the good sense to be… neutral, only he'd never worn jeans in his short life. His left eyebrow twitched when Derek presented him with the sky-blue pants he'd just found. Okay, jeans it is! Reid grabbed the garment as if it were the last free, autographed Nobel Prize winner, trying, at the same time, to avoid trying on the garishly colored thing! In the fitting room, the young man, as thin as a board, glanced at himself quickly. He let out a sad sigh as his pants slid to the floor. He had no shape, he didn't look like the kind of guy girls were looking for, definitely not! Seriously, what was he going to do at a Penelope's party? Derek's head slid between the curtain and the wall, a look of utter dismay on his face. He could have at least tried on those damn blue pants; he was sure they would have looked good on him. His gaze fell on the jeans, which, he had to admit, were rather flattering to the man opposite him, who was staring at him as if paralyzed with fear.
"What?"
"I'm changing!"
He didn't know the brunette was so prudish, the officer put a hand in front of his eyes, laughing.
"Excuse me, I didn't see anything on you that I don't have on myself!"
"The reverse might not be entirely true, though..."
He watched Reid grumble as he turned towards him, then, all smiles, handed him a long-sleeved t-shirt. Derek waited, just for the pleasure of seeing the young genius's face change color.
"No way I'm wearing that!"
"Oh yes you are!"
"No!" "
Don't argue, or I'll bring back that pretty little sales assistant from earlier who thought you looked great in that pink shirt that practically gave you spots!" "
But…"
"You have to look young. You're going to Garcia, for goodness' sake! Between their canary-yellow furniture and lilac cushions, you have to make your mark, otherwise you'll seem invisible. The goal is for people to notice you and think: Reid? Oh yeah, the super well-dressed, cute guy at Penelope's party? And no, Reid? Ha… the guy who spouted Nietzsche's theories, he looked like my forty-year-old professor! You see the difference?"
Without hesitation, the brunette grabbed the sleeve of his colleague's white shirt and tugged, nearly pulling it off with him. Now, if he wanted to leave this fitting room, he'd have to put on this t-shirt!
A few long minutes later, a head of chestnut hair emerged from its boudoir. He watched the slender figure move and finally step out completely. The t-shirt suited him well; in fact, the agent stood up to join his friend and, with a quick tug, rolled up the sleeves a bit before changing the overly severe hairstyle of the budding genius. Hmm, that was much better, wasn't it?
"Isn't it perfect?"
"I don't think so..." "
I think you're going to get raped by Garcia's first girlfriend."
"I don't think I really want that."
"And I think it would do you good."
Indignant, he turned to the black man and made a face.
"Trust me, and above all, leave your hair like that. There's no need to always tuck it behind your ear. Let it be, otherwise what's the point of keeping it long!" "
Okay, but the fringe will bother me, won't it?" "
You're not on a mission here. It just gives you incredible charm, leave it as it is!" "
If you insist..." "
And... the finishing touch, since it's a V-neck, you need a necklace." "
A what?"
Something youthful that would catch the eye while remaining neutral. He knew the guy; if he brought out something too trendy, Reid would never wear it. After a quick look at the racks, he grabbed a simple leather cord with a kanji attached—wasn't it the one for righteousness or justice? He'd kind of forgotten, but what did it matter? This kind of detail wouldn't bother Spencer, unlike the one that spoke of love… After a fleeting smile, the agent grabbed a steel bracelet and went back to Spencer, who was being pleasantly ogled by the young saleswoman from earlier.
"There you go! Black patent leather shoes, you must have some at home, they should do the trick, avoid pointy toes…"
Pointy ends, huh? From the shocked look on his interlocutor's face, he quickly understood that this kind of thing would definitely not be found in his young friend's wardrobe.
"Is that okay with you?"
Not entirely convinced, the young genius gave a half-hearted yes before rushing into the changing room and putting his original outfit back on, forgetting the unpleasant feeling of facing a different version of himself. Bag under his arm, he left Derek and headed home, feeling even more anxious because of the demanding evening ahead.
"And that's when he fell flat on his face right in the middle of the store, knocking over a shelf of strawberry-flavored condoms, yes, yes, I swear!"
A burst of laughter echoed through the room, but one guest simply sighed at the rather dismal evening. He didn't know Garcia; in fact, he was there because his best friend had dragged him there against his will. The blue-eyed brunette stared at the blonde swaying to the music toward the door, his despairing gaze registering that the new guest was… a man, finally, a man! Michael breathed a sigh of relief; he wasn't going to spend the night with a bunch of girls gossiping about their exes! A snicker escaped his vocal cords, drawing the blonde's gaze, which she couldn't stop devouring. JJ, it seemed? To be honest, he couldn't care less about her. All he'd managed to do since the blonde had spoken to him was look around the apartment. It was well located, and the decor, considering the woman who lived there, was surprising to say the least, but there was something tasteful about it. The furniture had been carefully chosen. He certainly couldn't have done better, except perhaps in terms of color. The engineer sighed again; the music was awful. Hadn't he just overheard the girls talking about Justin Timberlake? Damn it!
"Ha! I didn't think you'd come!"
"Yes... yes..."
Penelope needed a moment to realize that her colleague hadn't been swapped for a perfect double. The young man was well-dressed in a blue garment. It was a lagoon blue that faded into a gradient; in fact, when he took off his jacket, Garcia noticed the delicate purple patterns that would lace up the back of the garment. Who could have found him this outfit? The cut was perfect; it didn't make the boy look skinny, as was often the case. She recognized her own sweetheart in this sartorial taste, which made her smile tenderly. The pendant that jiggled around her little protégé's neck charmed her—dare she, perhaps she should have kept it for herself! Laughing heartily this time, she led her guest toward the kitchen, grabbing what he had brought to put in the refrigerator.
"So, JJ's here, but watch out, she's trying to get Maria's friend's attention. Otherwise, Rachel's really nice, she loves Star Wars and talks about it all the time. Laura just graduated from art school, she restores old paintings, you'll see, she has amazing hands. Chris's a stripper, if you ask her nicely, she could teach you a few... you know what I mean! And for now, the only guy here is Michael, Josh should be here soon with his three buddies. I don't know him very well, apparently he's an engineer, and Maria told me he also has an above-average IQ. But listen, I don't want any philosophical debates or anything like that during my party!"
Once this warning was given, she dragged Reid, who hadn't had time to get a word in edgewise, into the living room.
"And this is Spencer Reid. I'll let you make the introductions; I'll go get the canapés."
Standing ramrod straight, Spencer looked apprehensively at the girls watching him. He glanced quickly at JJ, as if in a cry for help, but he had to admit, the pretty blonde hadn't understood his look at all, and already a voluptuous redhead was approaching him to introduce herself.
"Maria, I'm a childhood friend of Garcia's, she's told me a lot about you..."
Well, he was in for a night of hell! For the past twenty minutes, Spencer had been doing nothing but positive spin after every word Laura said, even though what she was saying was utter nonsense to his young, inexperienced mind. After yet another absurdity, Spencer sighed as Maria stood, dancing with Garcia, giving him longing looks. The infamous Josh, accompanied by two of his buddies, was having fun with the stripper, who was warming up her audience as expected. Oh, he had tried to make a move on the guys, but the result had been utterly disappointing. They were talking about motorcycles, girls, and alcohol. None of that could really interest him, so, politely, the little genius had stayed by Laura's side, who spoke like a machine. His now bovine gaze slid to the right; Michael continued to watch him. The look the young man gave him made Spencer flinch, and feeling uneasy, he quickly turned away.
He'd been there for a good hour and was already bored. When Laura got up to dance, he left her. It wasn't his style to writhe to music that sounded like nothing. He preferred great music to those syrupy pop and R&B singers who could melt the hearts of any brainless bimbo.
"Come on, how about we have a drink on the terrace?"
The dark-haired young man with strikingly blue eyes had finally approached him and spoken to him for the first time that evening. He took the offered glass and, without a glance at the people behind him, Reid headed towards the terrace. His hand closed the sliding door, silencing that Usher once and for all!
"Thank you." "
I really thought she was going to eat you."
His interlocutor chuckled, watching the infamous Laura sway her hips and cling to the neck of one of Josh's buddies. Oh dear, how he disliked that type of woman.
"Not unpleasant, but his speech on the political evolution of China…"
"A load of rubbish!"
Spencer raised his eyebrows in astonishment; perhaps he wasn't the only one with real brain cells that evening.
-Michael Scofield. »
-Spencer Reid. »
The little genius grabbed the hand and squeezed it, still not at all comfortable in front of the overly blue eyes of his counterpart, who began to smile in an angelic way.
"Civil engineer. And you, you work at the FBI?" "
Um, in the Behavioral Analysis Unit."
"Interesting."
"If we want to, it's not always easy." "
I imagine…"
He could even imagine it perfectly. Michael turned towards the late night, braced himself against the railing, hoisted himself up, and settled comfortably, letting his legs dangle in the air. His hand reached out to his companion, and with a swift pull, he helped him into position opposite him. Straddling their railing, the two men looked at each other for a brief moment before resuming their conversation.
"What are you doing here? This isn't your place, is it?"
"They decided to put me in a position, which isn't easy when you have four different doctorates, started university at twelve, and... have an IQ of 187. Every time I open my mouth, it's to talk about overly complex theories or percentages that nobody cares about."
His blue eyes seemed to light up for a few moments at this admission. He had no reason to complain about his IQ, but the kid in front of him was certainly smarter. Reid tensed, hearing Morgan's voice remind him not to flaunt his knowledge. Hadn't he sworn he wouldn't talk about his genius quirks? Spencer gave a grim smile while Michael's softened. He also had trouble with others, not only because of his IQ, but also because of this condition his brain had developed. But whatever, there was something they had in common. His head nodded slightly in the agent's direction.
"I think we have that in common."
"Huh?"
Lost in thought, the dark-haired man with blue eyes offered only a smile, watched the party in full swing, and then sighed. He had only one desire: to leave.
"Are you coming? Let's get out of here."
"I'm not against it."
"Dereek?"
Agent Morgan had just picked up his phone without looking at who was on the other end; it must have been four in the morning. Who the hell dared to bother him at this hour?
"What?"
"I've lost Reid!"
Huh? He blinked for a moment, no doubt it was Penelope on the phone, but what had she just told him?
"But you don't just lose someone like that."
"Yes, you do, I swear, he was right there and then suddenly, poof."
"Poof?"
"Gone!"
"Did he run off with some girl?" "
No, not at all, they're still with me. I don't know where he is, and he's not answering his phone."
"Calm down, Reid's a grown man." "
And I gave him a bit too much to drink. If something happened to him, I..."
The agent yawned; he vaguely heard Garcia's hand slide across the receiver to allow him to speak to someone. He also vaguely heard the end of the conversation, mentioning that another guest had left. Well, there you have it, he hadn't left alone!
"He supposedly left with one of my friends' buddies, but that guy's weird, he kept staring at Spencer all evening! He freaked me out every time I caught his eye!" "
Why?"
"I don't know, but he was really checking out Reid!"
"You know gay people exist, right?"
"You think Spencer is…"
"No idea, honey, but let's not worry, okay?" "
Okay, but I swear on my life, if that guy hurt her, he'll eat his words!"
"Okay, meanwhile, I'm going to sleep!"
With that, Agent Morgan hung up and went back to sleep. On the other end of the line, the little blonde grabbed her pink fur coat and rushed off into the night with JJ in pursuit; they would save their handsome friend from that man's vile clutches!
Michael laughed, sitting on a bar stool, watching his companion chat about this and that. After starting out in a very formal register, the Scotch had finally loosened his tongue, and now he was talking about the jazz music a saxophone was producing with an almost aphrodisiac sound. His blue eyes fell on the young man, who picked up his new glass, frowning.
"I honestly have no idea who was the better saxophonist between Scott Hamilton and Joe McPhee."
The engineer was no longer really following the discussion, he had to admit it to himself; he did not often have the opportunity to meet other geniuses, and since they had stopped talking about subjects specific to their different intellectual quotients, the blue eyes of the older man had been content to scrutinize every action and gesture of the young man who stood beside him in a thorough analysis, as if it were one of his models.
"I have… We just arrested a man. He had… tortured and killed about thirty children…"
Reid pushed his glass away, remembering what Morgan had told him yesterday: sometimes, he got consumed by his work because everything stayed in his mind. He, who had a perfect visual memory, found himself suffocated under the rubble of his life. A broken sigh caught in his throat before, in frustration, he finished his drink in one gulp. A hand slid across his head, freeing his hair from the grip of his right ear. Without knowing why, he moved his cheek to continue the caress. His companion didn't know how to respond appropriately to this statement; indeed, it couldn't be the easiest memory to process. He'd heard about it briefly between building designs, but practically no one pulled him out of his quiet little life. His sketches on one side, his nephew and brother on the other… as for the rest, Michael had the unfortunate tendency to… have no real "social life" whatsoever. The back of his hand had slid across the agent's cheek, who strangely followed its movement. Scofield inclined his head, touched; the young man was losing control of his alcohol. It was time to take him home before he led him to do something he'd regrettable. He pulled away from his companion and slipped a bill to the bartender. Having done this, he stood up and tugged at the drunken agent's jacket sleeve.
"Where are we going?"
"To your place."
"I... we? What... I don't know if... you think?"
Beneath the confusion that seemed to grip Spencer, he added, purely for the sake of precision:
"And then I'm going back to the hotel, right? Don't read anything into it... actually, I don't know what you were just thinking."
Huh? Why was he disappointed somehow? He'd promised Derek he'd come out of his shell a bit, but he'd failed his mission: a girl in his bed tonight—after all, it was practically mission impossible for him. He didn't know why; he never tried, or he gave up too easily. Actually, he didn't care. He didn't have anyone, but he was perfectly happy that way, so why did he feel so cold inside? Reid sighed again, walking alongside the engineer. They barely knew each other, but he'd noticed the brunette was always trying to hide something from him; that said, he'd quickly figured out what it was when he overheard him talking about the bar's structure while commenting on the musician's two off-key notes. He himself hadn't been able to take in all those details at once. He'd smiled then, knowing perfectly well where that overflowing knowledge emanating from the complex being who shared his evening was coming from.
"We could..."
The little genius stopped in the middle of the sidewalk; he wanted to continue… talking with the dark-haired boy, he certainly wasn't going to leave him like that. Why? Why was he looking at his blue eyes like that? Why was he smiling like that for no good reason, why did he want to…?
"How about a... coffee at... m's?"
Me. Finally, the word wasn't audible because Garcia's shrill voice had just called out to him, and now beside him, she was pulling at his jacket like a madwoman, shouting her concern. From being shaken so much, he had to tear his gaze away from the blue that was robbing him of all coherent thought.
"Huh?"
"I'll walk you home!"
And saying this, she cast a cold glance at the brunette who, amused, watched her protect the little man who served as her colleague. Too bad, he would have gladly accepted the invitation, although… it was getting late and the brunette had definitely drunk too much, so, plunging his hands into his pockets, he turned away from the scene and headed towards his hotel.
"So, how are things going this weekend?"
Reid grabbed his coffee cup with a sigh, then turned to Derek and headed towards him. It would do him good to stop dwelling on this and finally talk to someone about it!
"That's rubbish. Now I know that getting drunk on Scotch is definitely not for me."
Scotch? Morgan chuckled but quickly stopped himself when he saw the brunette with a sad and sullen expression.
"What?"
"Garcia... stopped me before I invited him to my place. I'm trying to convince myself it's for the best, but I can't stop thinking. What if? What if I had invited him, what would have happened?" "
Who? A pretty bimbo?"
"No... a... man..."
Morgan inclined his head; he wasn't quite sure why, but he had a feeling that one day the little genius would tell him something like that, that one day his utter exasperation would shout to the world that he couldn't care less about girls. At least he'd taken a step, which, incidentally, made him smile tenderly, like a doting father.
"Do you want to see him again?"
Without taking his eyes off his cup, Spencer thought of his blue eyes, and then, without realizing it, he began to recount what he knew about the engineer: he lived in Chicago, he had earned his doctorate with the second-highest Latin honors, which was saying something, while Spencer himself had only gotten the third! He told all this with great care and, above all, with a kind of adoration that his companion couldn't help but notice. So, he'd found another genius, huh? This was shaping up to be either the best idea of the century or the worst possible situation. Who could possibly bring a bunch of crackpots back down to earth? Nope, once they got going, and with several of them, it was impossible; maybe they'd be the worst couple ever formed on this good old Earth. Yet he could not ignore that spark that Reid never had in his eyes, not even when he expounded pompous theories about some work by some author.
"Easy now… personally, I don't really care about his CV. But it seems like you like him."
Would he like her? Of course, it wasn't every day you had the chance to meet a man as cultured, as kind, and as... handsome as him. Michael Scofield might have seemed a little cold, like himself, but after a few hours, he had encountered a very endearing personality, not always as self-assured as she let on. He had seen so much in her eyes: fear, longing, desire, but also great tenderness and an unparalleled capacity for empathy.
"Did you kiss?"
Reid shook his head negatively; it wasn't the desire that had been lacking during the few seconds of the caress, but he hadn't dared.
"I wasn't ready, and besides, I was half drunk, but... he stroked my cheek and..."
The brunette's hand slid across his cheek at the memory; he retraced Scofield's steps a few days earlier. His gaze suddenly darkened. Why was he even talking about it? He'd never see him again…
"And?"
"Never mind, we'd be better off joining Hotchner."
A tear slid down his cheek as he climbed the stairs leading to the first-floor offices. He'd better get to work than wallow in self-pity over a man who, for all he knew, didn't even remember him
Michael?"
The man in question climbed out of his coffee cup; he'd had one of the worst nights of his life! He was now on his sixth cup, and his day had barely begun! His fingers massaged the bridge of his nose when his colleague started to talk about his plans, because it was expected he'd have to deal with the fallout from his botched foundations. As usual, but his sense of professionalism was boundless; he would never let any danger remain, because in their case, it could easily mean hundreds, even thousands, of deaths. He certainly had his work cut out for him. Sighing, he grabbed the various sketches, thinking back on the weekend he'd spent. Apart from his chance encounter with young Spencer Reid, he'd gone along with Maria for nothing. All because his brother had thought it wise to push him into this woman's path, probably thinking they could become more than just friends. Well, he was wrong, my dear Lincoln; she had absolutely no interest in his younger brother's blue eyes. One day he'd have to find the courage to tell his older brother that he didn't care about plunging necklines or miniskirts and that he only cared about the minds of the people he met, not to mention their brains and all the knowledge they might contain. Of course, most of the time he liked to observe men for their looks, but when their brains didn't match their beauty, Michael tended to get bored. It was a great miracle he had managed to love a woman because of her wit, but admittedly, it was rare. His chin resting in the palm of his hand, his gaze lost somewhere between his cup and his sketches, Michael sighed again. He should have taken Reid's number before letting him go; he had no way to contact him except through Maria, then Garcia, who seemed to harbor an inexplicable animosity toward him. In short, it was all over!
"And damn it!"
It was better for him to stop thinking about it and get to work; at least that would have the virtue of moving his life forward!
Reid confidently pushed his knight forward; this time he'd get Jason. Yet his victorious smile vanished when, two moves later, his superior announced with a mocking grin that the game was over. Since they'd known each other, Spencer hadn't won a single game against Gideon, not one! And even after turning the board over a dozen times, he couldn't grasp his logic or anticipate his moves. Exasperated by such genius, he went to slump into a seat on the other side of the plane to think and perhaps wallow in his depression. Under Derek's worried gaze, the brunette collapsed onto the tray table with yet another sigh. It had been like this for a month; it was impossible to pull Spencer out of his borderline masochistic thoughts about this man he no longer wanted to talk about, but who hammered away at his mind to the point of sometimes disrupting his train of thought. From time to time, his nose pressed against the porthole, he stroked his cheek with an unreadable gaze. Without a word, Agent Morgan dropped a piece of paper next to the young genius and then went to sit beside JJ. The sound of the paper caught Dr. Reid's curious eye; he studied it for a few seconds before picking it up. It was a printed page from a magazine about some company. He didn't recognize it, and in fact, he began to read the article almost aloud.
- Maxwell & Schaum, Chicago. Firm specializing in… »
One name caught his eye a few lines down, though; the article was about their most promising employee who had just designed the next building for a publicly traded company: Michael Scofield. Spencer's lost gaze fell on Derek, who winked at him before announcing aloud.
"Hey, what if we took some time off after the mission instead of heading straight back? I've never been to Chicago." "
You want to do some sightseeing?"
"Why not? We've been working like crazy for the past two weeks, it would be good to take a little break. We'll finish our interrogation and then, let's say, have a relaxing evening. I've always wanted to see the Art Institute of Chicago; apparently, it's one of the best museums in America."
Gideon nodded his head in complete agreement with the proposal; the crease of his mouth left no doubt—he found the idea, admittedly last-minute, but interesting. Behind his somber gaze, Hotchner frowned, but Derek quickly resumed his discussion.
"Come on, just a little while, the team needs a break, and besides, Chicago is a beautiful city, it'll be a nice change of scenery!"
"Okay, okay, fine."
The matter was settled; once their mission was accomplished, they would have free rein for the evening! Derek sent a triumphant thumbs-up to the brunette, who blushed furiously. There was an address on the paper; with any luck… He hardly dared believe it. Would he ever see him again?
"So? Are we going to the museum?"
"Uh, without me, I..."
"He'd rather look at the city's architecture, wouldn't you say, Reid?" "
Absolutely."
Blushing under Derek's gaze, he moved away from the group who were eyeing him suspiciously. Now alone in the city, he hailed a taxi and handed the newspaper to the driver. This was his destination; he still didn't know how he could meet Michael, but he would try—no, he would make it happen!
Reid glared at the receptionist, who was typing away at her computer, fuming. She had no intention of answering him, and, annoyed, he reiterated his refusal.
"I'd like to see Mr. Scofield."
"I can't do anything for you, I'm sorry."
Unwilling to leave without seeing the engineer, Spencer did something that, at the time, seemed to be the only solution to his problem. The woman's green eyes slid over the badge, and suddenly she seemed more inclined to speak to him.
- Elevator number two, 18th floor, office 403.
Once she saw the young man leave, she grabbed her phone to warn Michael that the FBI was about to arrive.
Surprised, he hung up, frowning. What could the FBI possibly want? He hoped Lincoln or his nephew hadn't done something stupid. The Burrows could be hot-headed, but enough to attract the FBI's attention? Scratching his head, he took the cup of coffee his superior offered, tilting his head.
"So?"
"The plans are almost finished and I..."
Well then… Well then… the dark-haired man's eyes widened at the sight of a young man bundled up in a beige jacket and a brick-colored tie. He had a little trouble recognizing him because of the incredibly retro look, but at the sight of his lost-dog eyes, Michael stood up and headed out of his office without listening to his boss any longer. Slipping into the corridor, his hand grabbed the agent's arm, who still hadn't noticed him.
"What are you doing here?"
He'd found him, or rather, Michael had found him—well, it amounted to the same thing! Pushing his hair behind his ear, Spencer bit his lip. Of course, he'd thought of everything, but not what he was going to say to the brunette. After an awkward movement, Reid sighed, unsure of what to say to Scofield. Ever since Derek had given him that newspaper clipping, all he could think about was seeing his…
Oh well, maybe Michael didn't want to see him again, maybe he didn't care about him at all. They didn't know each other, and Spencer just showed up at his workplace unannounced, or rather, showing his nameplate. Damn it, he didn't know how to handle this. He wanted to tell him he wanted to see him again, but the more he thought about his audacity, the more foolish he felt.
"Um… I shouldn't have, sorry, I… I have to go."
Surprised by this change of plans, Michael's blue eyes followed the agent for a few seconds before he fell in behind him.
"Wait, I'm happy to see you again."
He shouldn't have started like that; he should have known his interlocutor would take it badly. But honestly, he hadn't expected to see him again one day, and he still couldn't believe it!
"Me too." "
Are you waiting for me? I'll take the rest of the day off."
With a broad smile, Michael grabbed his things, walked past his boss, and announced he was leaving. He always worked overtime without ever asking for anything; it was only natural that he stayed, sometimes even doubling his hours or sleeping at work because he was so busy. He had every right to leave like that, and his boss wouldn't say a word. At worst, he'd work that night to finish his plans and meet the deadline. His arm went around the agent's slender shoulders, and he quickly pulled him outside.
"So what are you doing here?"
"Work, well, we have a little free time before going home, so... and since, well, a friend found me an article about your company... well, there you go!"
The point was to be clear, or not. Michael burst into a hearty laugh. He was happy to see him again, even if it was only for a few hours. However, tonight he would make sure they didn't end up in a bar, just to be certain they could continue if the brunette wanted to spend the night, perhaps at his place.
"So, shall I show you around the city?" "
Hmm... why not?"
Yes, he hadn't come here for that, but to be honest, he couldn't think of anything better to do. Reid didn't particularly want to talk, or even find himself trapped in an awkward silence, because up until now he had acted with an incredible lack of logic and common sense.
They had been walking side by side for two hours now, Michael occasionally commenting on the buildings that rose before them, and then the brunette would devour with his eyes for a few seconds the engineer who was teaching him the basics of architecture. Spencer had never really looked into it, so he was delighted to learn a little more.
"What?"
"He's with someone, Jason, you can't have Hotchner stay just one night, just one! I'd hate to have to call Spencer before he's spent the night with his Romeo."
Gideon's smile stretched slightly; he winked at Derek before shuffling like a madman toward the hotel lobby. Hotchner was trying to rally his troops because he wanted to leave before nightfall. His dark gaze suddenly fell on Jason, who, greenish-faced, stood before him, a hand on his stomach.
"I'd better stay a little longer; it would be inappropriate to travel in my condition."
"Is something wrong?" "
I must have eaten something that wasn't fresh. Don't worry, Derek will drive me tomorrow."
"And what about Reid?"
"I don't know, haven't seen him. Have you seen him? Do you know where he is?"
Hotchner, not easily fooled, raised an eyebrow. The little genius had vanished quickly and was still nowhere to be seen, even though he was the first one ready to leave. Could there be a woman hiding behind all this?
"Okay, fine, let's go. Don't dawdle too much and be careful in the car; we wouldn't want our dear Jason to throw up in an FBI car, would we?"
With a devilish, sly smile, the section chief left for the airport with JJ and Agent Prentiss.
"What? Is that true? Thank you, Morgan!"
Spencer put away his phone before the brunette sat back down at their table. Helpful as ever, Scofield returned with two smoothies, sat down with a broad smile, and offered one of the clear plastic cups to his companion. The blue eyes spied on the FBI agent, who shifted in his chair, visibly embarrassed. They had spent the early evening discussing geopolitics, literature, chemistry, and physics, and since they had decided to stop comparing their knowledge, the two men were at a loss for what to say to each other. Michael wasn't very sociable; he often didn't know what to talk about, and his curiosity frequently embarrassed his companion. He had to admit that the young man across from him wasn't very talkative, and that if he waited for him, the world might well end and the sky turn red before Spencer finally decided to join the conversation. Well, should he try again? He knew very well the answer to the question he was going to ask, but let's say it was to follow up; Spencer hadn't come back to see him just to look him in the eyes and remain silent as a fish, had he?
"An exciting job, a surprising IQ, a shy smile, a very good catch, hmm? Already taken?"
Huh? A pleasant warmth washed over the little genius, who bit his lip. He'd just received a huge compliment, one he wasn't used to. People only ever seemed to notice his brain and never looked any further. A little taken aback, he grabbed his cup and had to try twice before he could get that darn straw between his lips. Damn, his hands were sweating and his heart was trembling.
- Nope… "
Michael gave him an amused smile and, with the slowest possible movement, pulled his chair towards the man opposite him, who watched him intently. His face slid towards the brunette, who suppressed the blush of a startled virgin. My God, those overly blue eyes made him uncomfortable!
"Would it be possible for me to claim this seat?"
The brunet's breath brushed against his neck, Reid's heart skipped a beat, and his whole body trembled with confusion. Now, judging by the heat he felt on his face, he was sure he was as red as a peony. Lowering his head to avoid drawing attention, he pushed the engineer's chest away, who had remained too close, so close that his breath still brushed against the back of his neck, causing his body to react in a way he wasn't used to. He felt embarrassed; his body had been such a tool of his mind that he could hardly see it now, completely detaching itself to react like this. It took him a good thirty seconds to regain his composure and dare to meet Scofield's blue eyes again.
"I'd better go back."
"Why?"
"They'll worry, and we should already be on the plane."
"They didn't ask you to go back, did they?"
"I..." "
You know, you can just tell me you don't like me, right?" "
That's not it at all!"
Spencer bit his lip, seeing the blue eyes gleefully mocking his reaction. Had he just said exactly what Michael wanted to hear? Why did he have this awful feeling he was trapped by that gaze? The brunet's back turned against the chair, his body now slightly hunched, settling comfortably into the café armchair. The twinkling eyes continued to watch him, undoubtedly waiting for something, most likely an answer to the question posed a few minutes earlier. Playing with his fingers, the young man with multiple doctorates sighed, then looked up at the brunet, who was now shaking one of his thighs, most likely nervously.
"Yes… I… you… well…"
Not entirely sure the other man understood, Reid made a sweeping movement with his eyes, clearly indicating his discomfort, especially with the crowd filling the café terrace. He had never felt so ill at ease in his life, perhaps because it was the first time he'd been in this kind of situation. Usually, it was his intelligence that guided him, that shielded him from life's uncertainties; behind his knowledge, he hid, he legitimized himself, everything was easier behind his high IQ. But now…
When Michael stood up, taking his hand, Spencer followed without flinching. He knew perfectly well that the engineer was leading him home, but he wasn't afraid; on the contrary, he seemed more serene than ever. At least, for the moment, because he didn't give himself much of a chance in a few minutes when the apartment door closed behind him.
He was pleased to see that the engineer's superb apartment was exceptionally spacious. He laid his jacket on the leather sofa, trying to get a feel for this upscale place. He didn't come from a particularly wealthy family; he only ever saw large apartments with city views in movies. Since the dark-haired man had told him to make himself comfortable, he slumped onto the arm of the sofa, waiting for the man to change and shed the suit he never, ever wore outside of work. Scofield wasn't a fan of shirts, ties, and jackets that made his body feel stiflingly rigid. Instead, he swapped his work attire for a short-sleeved t-shirt, perhaps a little too tight for his companion's liking, which made him blush at the suggestion of the body beneath. The man pressed a button, and suddenly a man's voice echoed through the apartment. It was a gentle song, not the kind Spencer would normally listen to, which was why he'd never heard it before today. The man sang well, his voice slightly husky, but what captivated him was the piano melody. A man, a choir, a piano, and lyrics that left a lingering taste in his mouth, penetrating his heart and perhaps even his soul with their purity.
"Are you alright?"
"Yes, in a way it's sad."
"In a way, it's magnificent."
Without a word, the brunette grabbed his arm and helped him to his feet. Michael's body then drew him closer, pulling him into his arms. The architect's right arm slid to the small of his back, his other hand found its way into his hair, and then his host's forehead pressed against his own. He had never danced before, so he simply followed the brunette's movements, feeling unsure of himself. Perhaps finally finding his courage, his arms tightened around the man whose face was now nestled against his neck, whispering the song's lyrics in his ear. Suddenly, the brunette was overwhelmed with sensation, for no one had ever spoken those words to him, and for the first time in his life, Spencer understood what he had missed by isolating himself in his own world. A kiss was placed on the nape of his neck, which he offered without realizing it. The rest unfolded in the same way, for a short time later he found himself closing his eyes and timidly returning the kisses that burned on his lips. When the electric guitar faded out at the end of the song, he felt Michael's body pull him into a hallway. Without interrupting their conversation, he entered the engineer's room and collapsed against him in a soft, comfortable bed. It was impossible that this man was single; at least, that's what he thought when the dark-haired man removed his t-shirt and captured his lips once more. That's what he thought when his companion undressed him, and that's what hammered into his mind as the other playfully ignited a blazing fire within him.
A ray of sunlight made Spencer groan, and he immediately turned toward the presence beside him. His gaze lingered for a moment on the dark-haired man sleeping peacefully beside him, his somewhat hardened face radiating an angelic beauty that surprised him. Strangely, he had slept well; strangely, he hadn't had a nightmare, unlike ninety percent of his nights; strangely, a smile, far from fleeting, graced his lips. Suddenly, everything Derek had told him about needing someone to lean on, along with the lyrics of the song, came flooding back to him. Having someone there to help him forget about work and all his worries… it made sense. With a smile, Spencer sat up. The room was sparsely furnished, somewhat zen-like given the minimalist decor. A model sat on a desk amidst a pile of sketches.
"Do you like it?"
Startled, he jumped, realizing two blue eyes were staring intently at him. Spencer ran a hand through his hair, pulling the sheets up over his body. A foolish reflex, considering they were both naked under the covers and his partner had seen every inch of his body.
"Hmm."
"Did you sleep well?" "
Too well!"
"Coffee?" "
That'll do."
To be honest, he was completely unable to swallow anything. He instinctively grabbed his knees and pulled them up to his chest, feeling uneasy again. What could this night possibly mean? Why hadn't he reacted before all this? Why had he let it happen? The pout on his lips caught the attention of the dark-haired man, who pulled him into his arms.
"Do you regret it?"
"I don't know, I don't know what I feel."
"Try to describe it."
"There's technically no word to describe it."
"Try."
"Doubts? A swarm of unanswered questions, fear? A little regret... yes..." "
Don't." "
You really don't have anyone?" "
No." "
Yet you..."
"So what? A while ago I would have said I didn't need anyone, that my family was enough for me, that my job was all that mattered. But that's cold and austere, that's bullshit Spencer, we're not meant to live alone, are we?" "
I'm not sure of anything anymore." "
I'm sure of one thing though, I had the best night of my life."
Something began to assault his heart. Spencer didn't know what it was, but when the man slid him beneath him, he surrendered to his gaze and let the body sink against his. He should have pushed him away, shouldn't he? Why was he waiting for him? It was stupid. Frowning slightly at the enterprising, sensual hands that were heating his body, the young genius wanted to say something, but a presence in the room stopped him. A man of imposing stature was looking at the bed in surprise, almost glaring at him. Michael had just broken up with him and was looking at the newcomer, slightly bewildered. And yes, he had no one in his life! Tsk… A veil of darkness crossed his eyes. The FBI agent tried to find his clothes, which must have been scattered all over the room.
"Michael?"
"Huh?" "
But who the hell is he?!" "
Huh…"
Damn it, why was Lincoln barging into his house like that? Probably because his younger brother wasn't doing anything at home except working. He could walk into that room at any time of day or night when he wasn't working and find his brother hunched over at his desk, working like a machine. And now… that was a bit of a mess. There was no way to hide anything now; he couldn't hide anything anymore.
"Spencer, let me introduce you to…"
"No need!" "
What do you mean?" "
I'm getting out of here. To think…" "
He's my brother, no need to get so worked up…" "
Your…?"
His… brother? Spencer cast an almost terrified glance at the bulldozer, which was watching him warily. His brother? That one didn't look very friendly!
"Lincoln, this is Spencer, a… friend, although the term doesn't really seem appropriate anymore." "
Appropriate… indeed, considering what you two were doing!" "
So? Is that any of your business?"
"It's just that…"
"If you don't like it, tough luck, eh?"
"Okay, feel free to… Anyway, I came to invite you to join LJ and me for a picnic, but…" "
I'm busy, maybe tomorrow…"
"Okay!"
Without wanting to know or see anything more, Burrows gave an evasive nod and left the room. How was he going to tell his son that his uncle was… well, that he preferred… well, that he… damn it, he still couldn't get over it! Michael slept with guys and he was telling him in the worst possible way!
"Do you still want to leave?"
"Whether I like it or not, I'm going to have to go. I can't stay here indefinitely; I've already gone too far by staying all night. I know Hotchner; he won't say anything because most of the time I don't cause any trouble, but it's best not to push your luck." "
Too bad..."
A heavy silence fell over the room, Reid sighed as he dropped his things to the floor, he went back to curl up in the arms of the brunette who drew him in for another kiss.
"Derek? I... I... Don't wait. I... Michael, stop it!"
A mischievous smile played on his accomplice's face; he hadn't decided to stop despite his partner's phone call. His teeth dug into the brown-haired man's flesh as he rippled between his hands. And still with that roguish smile, he slowly slid against Spencer's body, sliding down under the sheets.
"I'm going to take the..."
"Well, he's certainly making you do some strange things!" "
Dere... k! I was saying..."
"You're taking the night train, right?" "
Um... Mi... chael..."
"Well, I'll leave you to it then!"
Derek burst into laughter; he hadn't suspected for a second that he'd hear such a voice and such a moan coming from the mouth of the uptight guy he'd seen arrive at the department—much less on the phone! A smile played on his lips, which Jason shared, having also heard that moan that had had the good sense to come from Morgan's cell phone. The Black man started the car's engine and sped off; as for the rest, Reid was old enough to know what he was doing!
His cell phone jolted him out of his stupor; Michael had exhausted him. He was surprised to see him sitting at his desk, working, most likely. How long had he slept? His hand grabbed the vibrating machine that filled the room with a sound close to a groan.
"Huh?" "
So, darling? I hear we're staying out all night?"
"Garcia?" "
Huh! Jason and our handsome, dark-haired superior say hi. Change of plans, darling, you're joining them in Appleton, Wisconsin. Plus, you'll be there before them."
"What's going on?"
"Three murders in two days, I'll send you everything on your cell phone." "
Okay, thanks, Garcia." "
You're welcome, and give my apologies to the handsome brunette who's with you." "
Huh." "
By the way, did you guys do it?"
"Garcia!"
Reid groaned, hung up quickly, and then slumped back into bed, looking at the file the blonde had sent him. His gaze hardened when he saw the bodies and positions of the first two victims.
"Damn it."
"Work?"
"It certainly looks like it. I have to go to Appleton, Wisconsin."
"Want a ride?"
"Um... I wouldn't want to..." "
I'm getting dressed!"
Strangely, the trip was pleasant, even though he was almost certain they wouldn't see each other again for months. His work left him little free time, to the point where he had to travel across America to meet up with the dark-haired man. Sitting comfortably, they talked about movies. He had found in Michael someone like himself, someone who always looked beyond the surface, who always wanted to know more. Their thirst for knowledge fueled each other so much that there wasn't a single moment of silence in the car.
"It must be here."
"Thank you."
Reid got out of the car, stretching out. They had driven quite a few miles, and he was no longer used to being in a car; he almost missed the private jet. After a brief smile, he grabbed Michael by the neck and kissed him. His body pressed against the brunette's, who had to restrain himself from pushing him against the hood.
"I think we're being watched..."
"Huh?"
Indeed, behind them, a man stiff in a black suit was scrutinizing them with dark eyes, a strange glint of… how to put it… astonishment. Hotchner was expecting anything but that!
"So this is the famous… Michael? That's what he called him, right?"
"Between moans, yes… I wasn't expecting such a great catch! I'm proud of him, for once! I always knew he had good taste!"
"He's magnificent!"
"And his eyes… his eyes…"
JJ sighed sadly; it was fair game, she'd tried and lost. She'd still rather Reid enjoy this man than one of Garcia's airheaded friends. She didn't know why, but she wasn't even jealous. Without a word, she smiled at the couple before going into the station to finalize their plans with the local police. Jason, grinning, followed her, giving knowing nods to his little protégé, who blushed even more. Derek had to pull Prentiss by the arm to stop her staring at the brunette as if he were an ultra-tender cutlet offered to a girl who hadn't eaten in months. He ushered her into the station without any ceremony. Only Hotchner remained, still reeling from seeing Dr. Reid practically throw himself at a… man to kiss him… Life could be full of… what was it they called it again? Surprises? He was at a loss for words!
"We'll be waiting for you inside!"
Well… Spencer had expected worse, but it remained mild, no digs, no mockery, not too much commentary on…
"Hey, it would be great if you could introduce him to us properly, wouldn't it? We want to know everything about your little Angel Face, a nickname Garcia coined. Come on, let's go!" "
I'm coming, Derek."
Angel Face… Garcia had a knack for choosing idiotic nicknames, but for some reason, it suited the brunette. He tilted his head, adjusted his weapon and badge, then reluctantly turned away from Michael.
"See you later."
"Oh yes, that angel face isn't finished with you yet. You call me!"
And so the brunette left the Appleton Wisconsin square, but certainly not his life!