COVERT : Spencer Reid (II)

35

"How long will you be gone?" Rachel asks.

"Hopefully only a few days."

I'm thankful that she's driving me in. Spencer would offer, but I didn't ask. He'd say yes, of course he would. However, I don't want people to think I'd ask him.

Then, I furrow my brow and look at Rachel, "why?"

Rachel shrugs. If she weren't driving. I'd nudge her. Her eyes are too focused on the road.

"Rachel-"

"When was the last time you talked to Bastian?" she glances over at me, just briefly.

I hate the way she drives, one hand on the lowest part of the steering wheel. Her free arm props up her head, the elbow resting on the edge of the window. IF she's running late, Rachel will do her make-up in the car and drive with her knees. I haven't driven since Caro's wedding but I remember how tight my grip was on the wheel. I had a nightmare last night about driving. The breaks had failed.

"Cole?"

"You mean Bastien?" I try not to be aggressive as I correct her pronunciation, but I'm simultaneously trying to pretend I didn't zone out, and it's hard to do both effectively. "Not for the last week."

"He's... well it's not my business," Rachel says. "You can tell him I didn't tell you, just like he asked me. I just... why is he hiding shit from you? Like you're his mother?"

I grit my teeth. He's probably drinking. Or maybe he's sneaking out. I suppose it could be something else. I can't tell if I'm mind reading or fortune telling, and I can't even ask Mary about it later.

"Just ignore him. And I'm glad. I don't want you reporting on him."

"I wouldn't say anything If I didn't think he had a problem," she says. "Don't even think it's an alcohol problem, but it's a problem."

So, drinking.

Rachel pulls the car over. After I climb out with my go bag, it's easier to pretend that I'm not afraid of flying. I'm too busy pretending I'm not worried about Bastien. Well that, and I'm trying desperately not to glance at Spencer when I enter the jet.

The plane takes off and people say hello. Spencer no louder or more particularly than anyone else. Morgan seems happy to see me out on the arson case. I had to wait an hour for Rachel to get back from grocery shopping, so I missed part of the debrief. They aren't going to start for the first leg of the flight, so while everyone commits to idle chit chatter, I lie back.

I'm too busy to play niceties, even though that is decidedly why I am here. According to my performance review, I need to be kinder. My mind is racing though, preoccupied with pretending I'm not worried about Bastien. Well, that, and I'm trying desperately not to focus on Spencer. At least he is far enough away that I can't smell his shampoo.

He's Reid here. With my eyes closed, I try to picture him as Reid, the way he looked when we first met. Amber eyes that could barely meet mine. So warm, like his soft breath on my face. Cheeks flushed, lips ripe and red and swollen and-

"Cole?"

I look up. Prentiss has an eyebrow raised, and the rest of the team is staring at me.

Swallowing, I sit up, "sorry?"

"I'll grab a bag," Reid, Spencer maybe I'm not sure, gets up and slips from this room toward the other where we sleep on longer flights.