Ineffable - S.REID

04

・゜゜・．TWO WEEKS LATER  .・゜゜・

"I feel like we're always in this elevator," Clara complained with a sigh as she leant against the elevator wall, her head resting against the cool of the mirror.

"No sleep again last night?" Spencer asked with concern tugging down his brow. He had noticed the bags under her eyes getting worse over the past few days and when he eventually asked her about it, trying to do so in the least rude way possible, he hadn't really been able to get a straight answer because she was so tired. That circumstance created a trip to a coffee shop, where she had an extra shot of espresso and for a moment felt just a little better.

"I maybe had four hours. Garcia has attempted to pump me full of caffeinated tea but it doesn't seem to have worked," she paused to yawn into the back of her hand, momentarily lifting her head from the mirror to do so. "Sorry. Since my Ma's away from home, Nonna keeps ringing me for things she's misplaced. Nonno's not much help in that department, he's not able to keep up with it all. But I'm so far away now that all I can do is listen to her talk," she sighed deeply, feeling the tension in her shoulders form knots that would likely become deeply seated until she could find some time to go get a massage.

"Do you think you'll be able to sleep on the plane?" he asked hopefully, hating seeing her in such an exhausted state. He was sure that even caffeine could not help this situation.

She shook her head, finally lifting it from the mirror as she had been watching the numbers of the elevator go down and they were near the end. "I don't ever really feel safe enough to do that, too many people."

He nodded in understanding, having felt the exact same way for the first few months of the job. Once he considered the people he worked with family, there was really no need to feel so nervous.

"I like your sweater," she complimented as the door to the elevator opened and she went to leave. Clara loved Spencer's wardrobe. The various shirts, ties, sweater, sweater vests and of course the multitudes of mismatched socks. Though she particularly loved the dark green sweater he had chosen to wear today, she thought it complimented his features.

"T-Thank you," he quickly called after her. Clara turned and smiled before she disappeared out of the doors that lead to where the plane was. 

"What's that smile on your face, pretty Ricky?" Morgan teased as he came out of the stairwell, go bag hoisted over his shoulder.

"There's no smile," Spencer responded, clearing his throat as he stepped out of the elevator.

Morgan simply raised a brow then chuckled, shaking his head to the floor. Spencer immediately wiped all signs of emotion from his face, desperately trying to prove Morgan's suspicions wrong. He and Clara were just good friends, that's all.

Nothing more could come of it.

-

On the plane back from the case, which had been rather difficult to figure out, Ciara found herself unable to sleep whilst everyone else around her was deep into their dreamlands. She had been so tired for the entire case that she had failed to contribute a single piece of information, not a single thought. Hotch noticed and said that she wasn't allowed in the field until she got some rest, arguing that she would be a danger to herself. So she stayed in the offices with JJ and the crime boards, answering phone calls from the team and piecing together the crime scene board.

After a smidgen of turbulence, Clara stood and went to head towards the coffee machine at the back of the plane. Only when she stood and saw the back of Spencer's head, her path changed. Due to his posture she could easily tell that he was up and reading, head resting in his hand whilst the other flicked pages almost as quickly as he read. He looked up as she sat opposite him, covering herself with a blanket that her Ma had made her years ago. It came on every trip with her so he knew it well. "Hey when's your birthday?" she asked softly, briefly double checking that everyone around them was still asleep.

He looked up from his book, hand resting on top of the page he was on just in case the pages fluttered closed. "October twenty eighth, why?"

"I'm putting dates in my diary," she responded whilst holding said diary, flicking to the page that she needed. As she wrote in the box underneath the date, she looked up at him through her lashes and asked, "Do star signs mean anything to you?"

"Do you like them?" he wondered aloud, gaze flicking down to his book just to simply avoid hers. She hummed and nodded, closing the journal back up. He then continued, "Then yes, they do."

Clara chuckled softly, attempting to muffle her smile with her lips as she glanced down to her blanket covered legs. She cleared her throat, "You're a libra."

"And you are?"

"October thirty first, scorpio," she responded, dropping her vice even softer as Prentiss stirred in her sleep.

His eyes lit up at the mention of the date he held dearest. "Your birthdays on halloween?"

"Every year," she laughed softly, having loved that fact all of her childhood. Clara proceeded to yawn, muffling it with the back of her hand, as she apologized quickly, "Sorry."

"Don't apologize," he replied softly, placing his book to one side to give her his full attention as she so deserved. He leaned forward slightly, arms resting on his knees, as he caringly spoke, "You should really try and sleep Clara, we have five hours."

She nodded, "I know it's just..."

"Everyone else is asleep," he reasoned, hoping that she would choose to sleep as he so hated seeing her this way. "And I can wake you when they wake up if you want me to."

Her gaze softened, "You'd do that?"

"Of course," he half whispered, smiling reassuringly.

Clara, now feeling comfortable enough to do so, tucked herself up on the chair and got as comfortable as she possibly could. "If you weren't doing this job what would you be doing?"

He almost laughed as he settled back into his seat, book perched on his lap but unopened, "Where's that come from?"

"A comment you made today at the station, i'm just curious if my guess was right," she responded, eyes fluttering closed as the exhaustion began to sweep over all her muscles with great intensity.

"You promise not to laugh?"

"I'd never laugh at you, Spencer," she sleepily promised as she tucked the blanket underneath her head a little more to act as a pillow. That meant the absolute most to him, a simple passed by comment that she made with ease.

He hesitated for a second, thinking that in the silence she must have fallen asleep. It was only when she opened her eyes and he saw the true intrigue behind them that he continued, "I wanted to be a Cowboy. I'd have horses, a few cattle, be surrounded by nature."

She asked sleepily, "Lasso and everything?"

He smiled, "Lasso and everything...Did you guess right?"

"Course I did," she, now half asleep, smiled then promptly drifted off as he laughed.

And waking up to him wasn't something she'd complain about anytime soon.