The Nights We Stay Awake (TemperancexReader)

6. "Sister night"

Y/n pov

I'm sprawled on the couch, my head resting on the armrest as Penelope plops down beside me with a heavy sigh. After this week, this case, and the fact that i've spent the past two days with Tempe as well, also helping her with her case. But it feels good to be home, away from the intensity of our jobs.

"Can you believe him?" Penelope says, her voice dripping with exasperation. "He just waltzes in like he owns the place, flaunting his new promotion."

I chuckle, knowing exactly who she's talking about. "You mean Derek? Mr. 'Look at me, I'm Supervisory Special Agent Morgan?"

"Exactly!" she exclaims, throwing her hands up. And i can't believe her as i laugh and she chugs her wine. "He's great and all, but he can be so over-the-top sometimes. And then there's Reid. You should have seen the way he was looking at Allison yesterday? It was so obvious."

I laugh again, taking a sip of my wine. "Oh, totally. He's got it bad for her, but i don't think he'll ever make a move. He's too... well, Reid."

Penelope nods, her eyes sparkling with gossip. "And speaking of Allison, have you noticed how often she's been talking to Emily lately? I think they're getting pretty close?"

I raise an eyebrow. "Really? I hadn't noticed. But it makes sense, poor Spencer. But it's good, she deserves someone."

"Exactly," she says, taking another gulp of her wine. "And what about Matt and Kara? Do you think there's something there?"

I ponder this for a moment. Gossiping about all our colleagues are the best thing to do with my sister. "Maybe. They do spend a lot of time together outside of work. But it could just be a mentor-mentee thing."

"True," Penelope concedes. "And then there's Hotch. Poor guy. He needs someone in his life, but he's so focused on work."

"Yeah," i agree softly. "He deserves to be happy again." And i come up with a very funny idea. "Should we set him up?"

She looks at me and we both burst out laughing. We continue tot alk, our conversation shifting from our colleges possible romances to the various things we've done. It feels good to decompress, to share out thoughts and suspicious with someone who understands.

After a while, Penelope sits up straight, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "You know what we need?"

"What?" I ask, intrigued.

"I need to recolor my hair. These roots are driving me insane. Let's go to the drugstore and get some dye."

I glance at the clock. It's late, but not too late for an adventure. "Why not? Let's do it."

We grab our jackets and head out into the night, the cool air sobering us slightly as we walk to the drugstore. The fluorescent lights are harsh compared to the cosy dimness of our apartment, but we make a beeline for the hair dye aisle.

"Okay, what colours are we thinking?" Penelope asks, scanning the shelves.

I ponder for a moment. "How about something fun? Like soft pink, lavender, mint green, and baby blue for me."

Penelope's eyes light up. "Perfect. And I'll go for hot pink, electric blue, neon green, and bright orange."

We grab the boxes and head to the counter, the cashier giving us a bemused look as we giggle our way through the checkout. Back home, we set up in the bathroom, laying out the dye bottles like an artist's palette.

"Ready?" Penelope asks, her grin wide.

"Ready," I confirm, and we dive in.

The bathroom quickly becomes a chaotic mess of colour and laughter. Penelope applies the streaks in my hair first, her hands surprisingly steady for someone who's had as much wine as we have.