тнe rυѕѕιan doll || spencer reid

NINETEEN

The next few cases after the events in front of Giselle's house were generally unmemorable. They ranged from the basic prostitution sexual sadism cases to a few one-offs that were sparked by a simple burst of anger in the unsub. But for the most part, the next three to four weeks went by without a single interesting moment. Giselle and Spencer's relationship was unabated. They went back and forth between being much too nervous to speak or show affection to having simple friendly conversations between breaks in cases. But neither one of them dared to bring up the moment that occured on Giselle's front doorstep just a few weeks earlier. In their minds, it was better to be left unsaid. 

In an attempt to break up a streak of stagnant work, Rossi gathered the team in the bullpen one morning as they all arrived to the workplace one by one. They all gathered around in various positions, listening to what their superior had to say. 

"These past few weeks have been painfully slow- and I know we are all desperate for a little fun... So, I'm hosting an Italian feast at my mansion this evening, and I expect each and every one of you to be there. Kapeesh?"

The team laughed at this stern yet loving invitation, and they all agreed to be present at this gathering. Even Giselle was yearning for a break in the monotonous limbo she had been living in for the past few weeks. Just a simple dinner could be a quick and easy cure.

Later that afternoon when Giselle was packing up her things and preparing to leave, Spencer approached her. This was one of the rare times that this had happened over the past few weeks, so Giselle perked up as soon as she saw Spencer's hand rest on her desk. 

"Are you going to Rossi's tonight?"

Spencer asked, clearly jittery with nerves.

"Yep. I need to go home first to get ready, though. How about you?"

Spencer nodded.

"Yeah, I'm going."

The two of them maintained the silence a little longer than they should have- making the tension grow to a colossal amount. Although neither of them said a single word, their thoughts seemed to float aimlessly in the air, traveling back and forth between them in a timely manner. It seemed that once again, the two of them said more when their mouths were shut. 

"Well, I'll see you there,"

Giselle blurted out quickly before grabbing her things and rushing to the door. Spencer went to grab her wrist and hold her back, but Giselle was already out the door and to the elevator by the time he thought of it. Their talk would simply have to wait. 

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Giselle arrived home shortly after she left the BAU, and as soon as she walked through her front door, she throw her things onto her couch and rushed to her bathroom. She only had around 45 minutes to get ready, and Giselle wanted to look really nice for this dinner. Not only for Spencer, but to show her team that she was more than what she presented as at work.

Giselle had noticed over the past few weeks that she thought much less about what food she consumed and what clothes she would wear. Of course there was that occasional nagging of a tight shirt or the scar on her neck burning with a need for touch- but that was to be expected. For the most part, she noticed a drastic improvement within herself, and that was more than she could have ever asked for. 

After a quick steaming shower, Giselle rushed out of her bathroom and threw on a simple, red wine colored bodycon dress. It was made of stretchy crepe knit fabric, and it halted right at the high part of her thighs. It wasn't a dress that hugged majorly around her waist. Instead, the fabric hugged just a little underneath her breasts and cascaded downward, making Giselle feel confident rather than exposed. The thin straps attached at a ruffled portion of the dress that covered Giselle's chest, making her cleavage apparent and supported nicely.