Why Don't You Come Over?

friends with benefits

warnings: smut (blowjob, fingering)

Elle sat at her desk, absently flipping through case files. The steady hum of the bullpen provided a backdrop to her thoughts, which were consumed by memories of that night with Spencer. She found it increasingly difficult to focus, her mind wandering back to the feel of his lips on hers, the warmth of his hands on her waist.

She glanced up, catching sight of Spencer as he entered the room. Her heart gave a little leap at the sight of him, but it was quickly followed by a pang of disappointment. He avoided her gaze, his eyes firmly fixed on the stack of papers in his hands.

"Morning, Reid," she called out, trying to keep her tone casual.

"Morning," he replied, his voice barely above a mumble as he hurried past her desk.

Elle watched him go, a mix of frustration and sadness welling up inside her. She knew he was avoiding her, and it hurt more than she cared to admit.

Taking a deep breath, she decided she couldn't let this go on without at least trying to address it.

Later that day, when the bullpen was quieter and most of the team had left, she found her chance. Spencer was at the coffee machine, his back to her. She approached him, determined to at least start a conversation.

"Hey, Spencer," she said softly, hoping not to startle him.

He turned, a look of surprise flashing across his face. "Oh, hi Elle," he said, his tone guarded.

"Can we talk?" she asked, trying to keep her voice gentle. "I feel like we've been... distant."

Spencer hesitated, glancing around the bullpen as if searching for an escape route. The tension in his shoulders was palpable, his eyes darting nervously from desk to desk. Finally, he looked back at Elle, his voice strained. "I'm not sure now is the best time," he said.

"Why?" Elle pressed, her gaze steady and unwavering.

"I... I have a lot of paperwork left," Spencer lied, his fingers fidgeting with the stack of files in his hand.

Elle arched an eyebrow, her skepticism evident. "No, you don't."

"You don't know that," he retorted, a defensive edge creeping into his voice.

"Yes, I do. I can see it. You finished hours ago. You're doing Morgan's paperwork," she pointed out, her tone firm and unwavering, cutting through his excuse with a clear note of frustration.

"Exactly. As I said, I still have more paperwork," he insisted, clutching at his excuse like a lifeline.

"Spencer..." Elle's voice was a mixture of frustration and concern, her eyes searching his face for any sign of the Spencer she knew - the one who was always honest, always straightforward.

"Maybe next time," he said abruptly, turning on his heel and walking away quickly. Elle watched his retreating figure, feeling a deep sigh escape her lips. She stood there for a moment, the weight of their unresolved tension pressing down on her.

The bullpen was a blur of activity around her, agents and analysts bustling about with their own tasks, but Elle felt a world apart. She returned to her desk, her mind racing with thoughts of Spencer. His avoidance was tearing at her.

Elle tried to focus on her work, but her eyes kept drifting to Spencer. She noticed the way he hunched over his desk, the way he buried himself in files and reports, anything to keep from facing her.

Why was he avoiding her so adamantly? Did he not like the kiss? Had she misread the signs? Obviously since he left so quickly. But she was so sure. Doubts swirled in her mind, each one more troubling than the last.