The Keeping of Words | Spencer Reid

39| To Go Alone

She got a job at Darcy and Alam, one of the law firms at the top of her list. Right away, things began to get busy, and soon she was balancing work for cases as much as he was. On Saturday mornings, they sprawled out across the living room to get through their respective assignments, so they could enjoy the majority of their weekend together. He would set up camp on the couch, case folders set out on the coffee table, while she sat in one of the nearby armchairs with her laptop. Spencer always finished first, flying through stacks of paperwork with ease, while she tried to play catch-up.

That particular Saturday, the workload felt endless. For once he seemed to have more to do than she did, and Bianca hoped that finally she wouldn't be working hours after he was done, while he lounged around with a pile of books, waiting for her. With most of her docket reports finished, she glanced up to see how her husband was faring across the room.

Spencer had his eyes narrowed in concentration, flipping between a few pages of a file, biting his lip. He always made faces when he was thinking, but what he did with his mouth was terribly distracting. Color bloomed in her cheeks, watching him as he did so, his tongue wetting the corner of his lips from time to time. She forced herself to tear her eyes away and get back to work, but it was nearly impossible now to focus on the paragraphs in front of her without noticing him in her peripheral vision. He ran a hand through his hair, mussing up the curls that had grown out over the last few months, the action almost absent-minded.

No, there would be time to pay attention to him later, she reminded herself. Crossing her legs in the chair, she tried to return her focus to the trafficking articles and gender discrimination trials that demanded her time. Without fail, a few minutes would pass, the words would seem far less interesting, and she would catch Spencer at it again. His tongue flicking out, his teeth digging into his bottom lip. Why did he have to do those things with his mouth? His mouth, his hands, his hair, his eyes, his voice, him. Everything about him was utterly distracting, and she couldn't bear it much longer.

He didn't even realize he was doing it, which only made it worse. When he worked he seemed to shut everything else out, unaware of even his own actions. Frustration burned in her, annoyed at the fact that he could steal so much of her focus and not even notice it. That wasn't fair. In retribution, she considered undoing some of the buttons on her cardigan, just to see what would happen. Better still, she could disappear to the closet and return wearing just only one of his shirts – one of the purple shirts, definitely one of the purple shirts - and a pair of high socks. That would get his attention. She could do that and sit in the armchair, biting her own lip and muttering French poetry under her breath until he was just as distracted.

Suddenly, he looked up from the paperwork only to see her staring at him, her face red. His eyebrows shot up. "Is something wrong?"

Bianca glanced down, flushing. "Of course not. Nothing at all."

"I know when you're lying. What's bothering you?"

You, she thought bitterly. You and your stupidly distracting face. Embarrassed, she didn't respond.

"Come on, something's wrong. You've been staring at me for the last five minutes." So he had noticed.

Caught in the act, she knew there was no talking her way out of this one, not to a profiler. "You were doing that thing again," she mumbled.

"What thing?" he asked innocently.

She shot him a glare. "You know. You know exactly what you do. And it's distracting."

Spencer shut the file folder in front of him. "This is... distracting?" Slowly he licked his lips, never once looking away from her eyes. She wanted to cross the room and kiss the smirk off his face.