A familiar face from Spencer's past joins the BAU, his ex-girlfriend, who left him fourteen years, two months, and fifteen days ago.
A slow-burn love story in which she and Spencer figure out who they are together and apart, and whether or not the h...
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Jasper's Apartment- Present Day
Warmth. Soft cotton pressed against a sleepy cheek. Safe arms wrapped tightly around a tired body. Wool-socked feet entangled underneath the comforter.
This was how Jasper woke up, slowly and gently, encased in the protective embrace of Spencer Reid.
It had been years since she woke up like this, happy and comfortable. There were no nightmares to throw her into wakefulness, no confusion of memory and reality to shatter her in the morning haze. There was no screaming, no terror, no pain.
There was only warmth and safety.
Breathing softly above her, Spencer's chest thumped against hers, his sleeping heartbeat echoing her own rested one. Booger snored heavily in the next room, ever the gentleman to give them their space.
The autumn sun filtered through the windows, the morning chill betraying it's warm caramel streams. Spencer's usually amber-colored hair shone red and orange through the sunlight, a single pane of light resting along his cheeks.
His face was no longer scrunched up in thought as it was most of the time, the small wrinkles in the corners of his eyes lax and peaceful as he held her.
The circles under his eyes betrayed his otherwise youthful features, and Jasper's heart stung when she saw how tired he often looked, his gaze hardened and steeled in ways it had never been all those years ago.
As hard as the last decade and a half had been for her, she knew deep in her soul that it had been just as hard on dear Spencer who, unlike her, deserved none of it. His gentle and kind heart deserved none of the pain and loss he had suffered before or after they last met.
The woman, she thought, I should have asked her name. Then maybe Jasper would be able to paint a better picture of her in her own mind.
Knowing Spencer, she had been smart, exceedingly so, with a gentle kind of beauty that radiated to her smile and sense of self. They both deserved better, and Jasper found herself wishing desperately that the woman was here instead of her.
If she were here, Spencer would've been happy. She could see him in her mind's eye, playing hide and seek with a couple of tawny haired kids as a soft figure watched with a prideful fondness. He would look back at her and smile, and she'd smile back, and Spencer would be happy.
She supposed she could blame it on her parents, on Sam for dying, on Eli for beating it out of her, on Jack for sacrificing himself to save her like an idiot. But the truth was that Jasper found long ago she simply was not capable of caring for others without alternative motives.
Even now, as she lay in the arms of the man she loved, had always loved, and always would love, Jasper knew it was selfish. In all likelihood, Jasper would not survive the year. All her training screamed at her that this mission would only end with her in a puddle of her own blood, wishing to God that He had just given her one, tiny chance to save herself. Spencer was just a placeholder until then.
