puzzles of a heart | spencer reid ✓

one

If one was convinced that first class was no upgrade from economy, they'd argue that private jets were overrated too.

Valeria Quinton stretched her legs easily in front of her as the plane began its ascend, the windows half rolled down to capture the empty airstrip and the landscape becoming insignificant as the steady rise of the heavy aircraft progressed.

She glanced indifferently across the open space, caught Spencer's watchful eyes and he turned away upon her gesture. Valeria let out an inaudible exhale of disbelief and proceeded to focus her attention on her phone, it was common practice at this point to avoid the increased tension she sensed from his demeanour.

"You good?" Derek asked from beside her, his broad frame taking up space between them and making their shoulders touch, elbows nudged against each other. She didn't mind it and didn't pull away when he first plopped down in the seat, it was a subtle gesture of perhaps assurance or even flirtation.

"Yeah, once we're on land again." She was queasy about flying, especially being on a private jet since statistics showed that private flights were more likely to crash. Valeria had stopped herself promptly before she blurted the jumble of words to Derek. God, she sounded precisely like Spencer Reid at that moment.

Derek Morgan was the only one she felt comforted by within the team. He would check on her and include her while conversations drifted beyond her expertise, and he didn't seem to dislike her. It was a start, Valeria guessed, but she often wondered if she really had left such a horrid impression on the rest. Perhaps she should've tried harder at impressing everyone, but her ego stood in the way.

He seemed to have left the conversation on that, but Valeria wasn't one to remain in silence. "So, do you guys always go on cruises to solve murders?"

"You make it sound like it's a vacation," Derek scowled, and she knew it was because her question was insensitive. She realised she said the wrong thing the moment the words left her mouth, but she was constant at saying bizarre statements and turning them around without too much of a second thought.

"Obviously, I'm kidding. It's just, the first case in....what is it - Nashville? God, I was not expecting that."

"We got some highs and lows, but Val, this isn't a holiday."

She didn't start a conversation to get lectured but did buy this on herself. "No, I know that. Come on Derek, I was just trying to lighten things up. I know how important what you guys do is, and how terrifyingly dangerous it is also. What I meant with Nashville was seeing the victim's body, not the glamorous hotel..."

His face tensed up. "You saw it? Like the crime scene?"

"No, what? I mean the bodies at the morgue, not the actual crime scene. Why does it matter if I did?"

"I'm just saying I don't want you to see stuff like that, it messes with your brain."

Valeria paused and felt contrasting feelings stirring in her stomach. The tough and independent persona clashing with the emotional, vulnerable and isolated soul. She considered her carefully throughout the response. "Trust me, I can handle myself, Derek."

"I know." He appeared apprehensive, and Valeria realised that he probably knew more about her than she cared to imagine. Derek was remarkably adept at that, and possibly because he was the skilled profiler he was. For her, emotions tumbled uncontrollably when she comprehended the comfort of someone; she was an oversharer and hated the feeling of desperation and weakness. Valeria hadn't let her guard down to him yet, but she was longing to reveal the candid parts of herself - always threatening to crack under a feeble touch.