COVERT : Spencer Reid (II)

22

            Estelle is out late working on her thesis and so I offer to heat up leftovers. No one can say no to her food, even Spencer, who finds it too spicy. I know I certainly can't; I can count on my fingers the number of times I've turned down a meal. Maybe I've been approaching too close to literally biting the hand that feeds me lately.

While the oven pre-heats (Estelle is upset whenever I try to use the microwave and debated even allowing me access to one in our new condo), I stare at Spencer across the counter. The bouquet of flowers is off to the side, otherwise I'd barely even be able to see him past the bulbs. Spencer's tall enough that he'd be visible. I'm not.

"They were from Stéphane," I tell him, certain I have to rope in the lie later. Which, we haven't really talked about since Christmas, so that will be difficult. "I was caught off guard by them, and I didn't want to explain why exactly he was apologizing."

"You and Stéphane are fighting?" Reid reaches across the counter to take my hand.

I let him, the edge of the counter digging into my hips just so I can feel his soft touch.

"He... he's upset I didn't tell him, about Bastien," I explain. "Then, we started arguing about other things, and it kind of spiraled. I can't remember the last time we had a major blow out like this."

It was tense, the rest of Christmas. None of us hung out without the other siblings in the room, so at least the angst was spread around pretty equally between the rest of us. Stéphane still talks to me, but only about little Sebbie.

"Sorry, it's kind of a disaster. My life, right now," I pull my hand away to shove it into the pocket of my workpants. I still haven't changed, stretched out of my work clothes.

He hasn't either. His tie is gone, but he's still wearing the same sweater vest.

Spencer pulls himself out from the island and circles around to find me. I lean toward him before he actually has wrapped his body around me. His hands are cold, but I don't mind. I feel too hot for this winter.

"Can you do me a favour?" his voice is soft, quiet.

I crane my neck up to look at him. He smiles down at me, just a bit. The bruise on his face is almost entirely gone. The lightbulbs in our kitchen are crappy. They barely give off any light, and I've been planning to put in dimmers. In the low light, he looks almost golden. Estelle would hate me if I told her I wanted to keep the kitchen lit exactly this way.

"Say three positive things about your relationship with your family," Spencer swallows. "I know its pop science, saying three positive things for every negative thing, but you talk a lot about how they are kind of a mess."

"I love them," I point out. "If I didn't, I wouldn't waste my life worrying about them, and feeling embarrassed."

Spencer's grip loosens, "I only meant... well, I know you like them. I don't think... do you feel like a good sister?"

My chest rises and falls, pushing him away and then making space for him to move in closer. The oven dings, preheated. It's the perfect excuse to pull away.

While I prep the tray, I close my eyes.

"I'm good at keeping my sibling's business private," I manage, not looking at Reid. "Because I'm annoyed that you won't tell me the Bastien information, but I'm more annoyed that Stéphane wants it. He and Estelle drive me mad. I think Caro and Bastien trust me because I don't run my mouth."