Outsider

no better feeling -12

Two more days of boredom go by, and I don't really take advantage of it like Penelope had told me to. I'd tried to walk around DC, but the annoyance of the constant traffic and chaos far outweighed the benefits of any sightseeing. Not only that, but it was lonely to act like a tourist by yourself. It crosses my mind more than once during this that maybe I should make some friends outside of work.

However, I completely forget about this as soon as Elle gets back. It's the middle of the night when the noise of my front door opening pulls me from my half-asleep state. Logically, I know it's Elle, but the FBI agent in me insists that I should be on alert. I push open my bedroom door and peer out into the dark living room. I can't see anything at first, but my eyes fall on a figure by the door. It's clearly Elle, and I burst out laughing as she mutters a string of curse words, trying to close the door.

"Oh my god!" She jumps at the sound of my laughter and whips around.

"Sorry! Sorry!" I say through laughs and fumble for a light switch.

"You are so not funny." She says and I laugh even harder.

"My intention was not to scare you, scouts honor." I say, holding my hand to my heart.

"Yeah, sure, scout." She says, rolling her eyes, but a smile is painted across her face.

"You've met my mother. Of course I was a girl scout." I say and she hums, setting her bags by the couch. I lean against the wall and she comes over to me.

"Who knew Elle Greenaway was so jumpy?" I tease and she narrows her eyes, wrapping her arms around my waist.

"At least." She says slowly and I'm confused. "I'm not." She pauses, adding to my confusion. "Ticklish." She punctuates the words with a light jab to my ribs and I let out a squeak, trying to squirm away from her.

"Okay, okay! I'm surrendering!" I wheeze and she laughs lightly, pulling back slightly to look at me.

"I missed you." She says softly.

"Right back at ya." I answer and she leans forward, kissing me. I sigh contentedly, finally getting to kiss my girlfriend again.

"You hungry?" I ask after we pull away from each other.

"Nah, had a sandwich on the plane. Really, just tired."

"Well, then, let's go to bed."

"I should shower. I was on a plane."

"It's fine, Elle. It's a pretty clean plane."

"Yeah, but planes are just...gross." She says and I nod.

"Alright." She kisses me again and goes to shower. I take a pain reliever for the ache in my shoulder and lay back down, waiting for Elle. She comes out and pulls on one of t-shirts, not bothering with pants before flopping down beside me.

"I love you. Like, a lot." She says, tangling her legs with mine.

"I love you too." I answer, wrapping my good arm around her. She buries her head in the crook of my neck, and it's not long before we're both dead asleep, content with each other.

The next morning, luckily for us, is a day off for Elle. Hotch had granted the whole team a day off, and we take full advantage of it, not getting out of bed until noon. We eat and then Elle drags me to Union Market with her, determined to teach me how to cook.

"Are you gonna tell me what we're making?" I ask as I trail behind her through the store.

"Guess."

"Why?"

"Soy!"

"Ellie!" I fire back and she huffs, brandishing her basket at me.

"Okay, my guess is it's something Cuban." I say and she nods. Elle's mom is Cuban, and cooking with her was a favorite part of Elle's childhood.

"Yes. Correct."

"That's as far as I'm gonna get. I don't think I know any Cuban food."

"You hurt me." She says dramatically.

"Mm, sorry."

"It's Ropa Vieja." She says.

"Old clothes?" I ask slowly and she grins.

"I see your high school Spanish is paying off."

"I guess so."

"And yes. Old clothes."

"You're gonna have to explain that one to me." She launches into an explanation of the dish and it sounds good. We get beef and vegetables for it, and then I act as DJ in the car as we head home.

Dinner ends up being quite the tumultuous process, with my hopeless cooking skills and misunderstanding of basic 'technique' as Elle calls it. It's amazing though, cooking and dancing with her as Cuban music plays through my apartment, the smell of the incredible food adding to the domesticity of it all. For the first time since the shooting, I don't feel that wary sense of fear, and I think to myself that there's no better feeling than being with the girl I love.

wowwwww look sasha posting without two weeks in between!! betcha no one thought that was ever happening HA 

anyway, short lil chapter bc i adore them being domestic together, i promise you we'll get some angst soon :) let me know what you think!! -sasha<3

ALSO- if you have any ideas/requests for another work tell me i want to write something so badly but i have no decent ideas