❝There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.❞

MAYA ANGELOU

✩

1.8 : dysfunctional family

OR

season 4, episode 7 : memoriam

SLOT MACHINES HAVE GOT TO MAKE THE MOST ANNOYING SOUND ON THE PLANET. Especially if you ask Emily.

Morgan cranks the handle again, grinning wildly. "Come on, baby! Give it to me! Give it to me! See? Nuh-uh."

Eyes closed, Emily touches Morgan's shoulder, grimacing. "Morgan, can you-" She groans. "Please, can you-?" She gestures vaguely in the direction of her head with her free hand. "My head."

Morgan chuckles lightly. "My bad. Sorry." He points to the slot machine. "You know these things are rigged, right?"

"Actually, they're not rigged," Fin says, moving over so Emily can sit down next to her on the sofa. "They're randomly generated, but with hundreds of probable combinations, so the odds you'll win the top prize on that is about five thousand to one."

"Okay, Reid," Morgan teases, grinning.

"Why is it that people get compared to Spencer simply for being smart?" Fin wonders aloud.

Rossi leans around Fin to look at Emily, who's rubbing her temples in circles. "Late night?"

"I hate Vegas," she groans, covering her eyes with one hand.

"Come on, Prentiss, how can you hate Vegas?" Morgan asks. "This is a grown folks' playground!"

"I hate Vegas." Fin rubs Emily's back gently, taking the coffee cup from her hand and setting it on the floor.

"Well, you and Reid are both old people, so you don't count."

"Just because I don't get drunk and have sex, I'm considered an old person?" Fin rolls her eyes. "Ouch, D."

JJ walks up to them, carrying her bag on her shoulder and looking beautiful in a flowing red top. "Anyone seen Reid?" she asks, smiling.

"I know he stayed with his mom last night," Morgan replies, sipping his own coffee.

"See? JJ didn't party all night, and you didn't call her an old person," Fin protests, gesturing to JJ.

"She's pregnant," Morgan says simply, like that solves everything.

"Reid should be here by now," JJ says, ignoring them. "He knows the departure time." Her eyes flick to the slot machine and she leans closer to inspect it. "Oh, this thing still has credit on it."

"JJ, I swear to God-" Emily leans over, hand outstretched, like she thinks she can stop JJ or something.

JJ's eyes widen in confusion. "What?"

Rossi points to Emily across Fin and does a gross imitation of being hungover and grumpy. Morgan chuckles, and Fin stifles a laugh, still rubbing Emily's back. Poor Em.

"Oh, here he comes right now!" Morgan points toward the door, and Fin follows his hand.

Spencer's walking through the doors, looking very handsome-wow-in a dark blue dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and when he sees them, he runs over, clutching the strap of his leather bag.

"What'd you do, sleep through your alarm?" Morgan quips, grinning.

"Sorry to keep you guys waiting," he says, slightly out of breath.

Fin stands up and reaches out a hand to help Emily up off the couch. Emily staggers a little and when they're both standing, she drops her head onto Fin's shoulder with a sigh. "Do you have Advil?"

"In my suitcase." Fin pats her head gently. "I'll get you some."

"I love you," Emily replies weakly, and Fin bites her lip to keep from laughing. She knows drunk Emily is fun, but hungover Emily's really cute.

"Hotch is already at the airstrip," JJ says to Spencer. "How fast can you pack?"

"Actually, I'm gonna-I'm gonna stay for a couple of days," he replies, a little embarrassedly.

"Is everything okay?" Fin asks, frowning. Something's off about him this morning; the way he's standing, the too-casual way he's speaking to them. It's like he's trying to hide something.

He nods vigorously. "Yeah, I just, um-I haven't seen my mom for a really long time, so I'd like a few more days."

"You sure?" asks Rossi.

"Yeah." Spencer nods, smiles.

"Okay." Rossi shrugs. "Take a few days. Do what you need to do."

With side-glances at Spencer, he, Morgan, and Emily walk toward the doors, but JJ seems to have the same idea as Fin. She steps closer to Spencer. "Hey, um, take care of yourself."

He nods. "You, too." With a grin, he gestures to her belly. "Both of you."

JJ smiles back at him, and then follows the others out the door. It's just Fin and Spencer now, and suddenly, it feels different. Fin looks up at him. "You sure you're okay?" she asks quietly.

"Yeah." He nods, eyes soft.

"Well, have a good time with your mom." Fin stands up on her toes and wraps her arms around his neck, closing her eyes. His arms around her waist, his face buried in her shoulder... When did their hugs change?

"Be safe," he whispers, then lets go. Reluctantly, she pulls away, smiles, and heads out the door before she does something she'll regret.

Morgan and Rossi are waiting for her just outside the hotel doors. Fin waits there for a moment, gathering her thoughts, then looks up at them. "Staying?"

They nod in unison.

"Yeah, me too."

✩

After a shower and a new change of clothes, Spencer feels refreshed. He's also feeling a little guilty, considering the fact that he hasn't seen his mom once since he told the others he was going to. Instead, he went to the police department and requested all the files that they had on Riley Jenkins' murder. He has to figure this out.

Shifting the file box from one arm to the other, he digs in his pocket for his hotel room keycard-but when he rounds the corner, the door's already open.

Oh, God. Slowly, he pushes the door open a little further and peers inside.

A soap opera is playing on the TV, and-Spencer rolls his eyes-Morgan and Rossi are sitting in the armchairs, eating junk food and watching very intently. His eyes move to the bed, where Fin is curled up, legs tucked underneath her, eyes glued to the pages of The Bell Jar. Spencer's first thought is that she looks adorable, absently braiding a strand of her hair, tongue poking between her teeth. His second thought is that this isn't the first time he's caught her on his hotel bed, and he tries his best not to let this show on his face. "What are you guys doing here?"

Morgan looks up and nods to him lazily. "Hey. What's it look like we're doing?"

"Uh, breaking into my room and watching Days of our Lives?" Spencer sets the file box down on a side table, frowning at them.

"Young and the Restless," Rossi corrects him, eyes never leaving the TV.

"For the record, I'm not paying any attention to that shit," Fin says, setting The Bell Jar down and looking up at Spencer.

"It's not shit," Rossi retorts.

"It is most definitely shit. There is nothing more shit on this earth than midday soaps, aside from maybe dried prunes."

"Aren't you supposed to be on a plane back to D.C.?" Spencer asks them, taking his bag off his shoulder and setting it on the table next to the box of files.

"You're supposed to be hanging out with your mom." Rossi gives him a knowing look.

"And you're not," Morgan finishes, eyebrows raised. He points to the box with his pinky finger, swallowing his bite of Snickers. "Riley Jenkins?"

Damn it. Spencer shakes his head a little too hastily. "No, that's not-that's actually not why I am here." It is most definitely why he's here.

"Spencer, you're being a dumbass again," Fin says, marking her place in her book and sliding off the bed. "Do you know who you're talking to?"

"We know what this has been doing to you," Morgan adds, standing up to face him.

Rossi stands, too, a somewhat understanding expression on his face. "Let us help. Maybe together we can find out who killed him."

Fin's joined them now, and Spencer notices she's in her sock feet, her footsteps noiseless on the hotel carpet. It's cute for no reason. He swallows hard, looks away from them. This is more uncomfortable than he thought it would be. "I think I might already know."

"So tell us about the suspect," Morgan says matter-of-factly.

"Truth is, I don't-" Spencer swallows again- "I don't know anything about him."

Fin's expression is confused, but she's listening. He loves that about her, that she just listens. But this isn't about her. He forces the words out before he can't say them. "He's my father."

Morgan and Rossi say nothing, surprised, and Spencer wonders if it would be weird to just leave, to go somewhere else, but before he can do anything, Fin breaks the awkward silence. "Well, let's find out." She points to the box of files on the side table. "Is that everything?"

Spencer's mouth drops open. "W-what?"

"Spencer, I promised I'd help you," Fin says, lifting the box into her arms and quirking an eyebrow at him. "I'm not going back on that, even if you think it's your dad. I had a dysfunctional family, too. It's no big deal."

A memory surfaces, from what feels like ages ago, when they were on the plane back from Colorado. Fin was bruised and cut, and she still sat in front of him, telling him it wasn't his fault. And then she slipped. "I mean, it's not like I haven't been hit before. Honestly, I'm used to it." Spencer's heart twists painfully as his mind goes to all the terrible things she could have meant by that.

But she's already laying files out on his bed, humming to herself, and Spencer forces himself to look up at Morgan and Rossi, who are giving him pitying looks. He hates pity. "Before we go down this road," Rossi says seriously, "you need to be sure."

"He's right." Morgan nods. "Some rocks don't need looking under."

"My mind is sending me signals," Spencer replies. "I can't ignore them anymore."

"Mixed signals." Here's the cynical Rossi they all know and love. "That's what the subconscious is all about. You know that."

"Reid, your dad left you," Morgan says quietly. "You take it to the Freudian extreme, you could say that he killed your childhood."

"Oh, my god, sometimes I hate profilers." Fin is suddenly at Spencer's elbow, appearing out of nowhere. "Are we going to forget about the fact that Spencer's been dreaming about a murdered child that mysteriously fits the facts of Riley Jenkins' case to a T? Regardless of who did it, there's a connection, and if Spencer's dad had something to do with it, we can't ignore that."

Thank you. Spencer wishes more people were like Fin sometimes. "I've come this far," he says decisively. "I'm not going back."

Fin's hand brushes his for a split second, and he looks down to see her smiling at him. "Well, then let's get to work, Doc."

✩

"It's just a theory, Mr. Jenkins," Spencer says curtly, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. Fin's never seen him this pissed; she knows not everyone can shut their emotions off, but Spencer definitely can't.

The older man throws a board into the back of his truck angrily, then wheels around to face them. "You must be out of your damn minds," he growls.

"We're trying to get some new facts." Morgan doesn't back down. He just stands there, unmoving.

"Well, you're hell and gone from facts if you think Will Reid killed my son." A challenge, inviting an argument. Fin suspects this is how a lot of arguments went between him and Mrs. Jenkins. She wouldn't be surprised if they were divorced.

"So...you were friends?" There's a change in Spencer's tone; he sounds hopeful now. Fin wonders if, deep down, he hopes to get to know his father. At least a little. She doesn't blame him for it.

"Who the hell are you to come here asking this?" Jenkins shakes his head and walks back toward his truck.

His hand is on the door handle before Spencer speaks up. "I'm his son."

Jenkins's eyebrows contract. "Spencer?"

Spencer shifts from foot to foot uncomfortably, nods.

"Spencer, a G-man?" Jenkins chuckles, walking back over to face them. "How about that?" He looks up at Morgan, shrugging. "I don't understand."

"Was William around your house often?" asks Fin, speaking for the first time. She has a hunch about what Jenkins thinks of her, but she's interested to prove it.

"The occasional barbecue, that sort of thing." Jenkins looks her up and down, tongue between his teeth. "Don't they have height requirements in the FBI? And age? What are you, fifteen?"

"Would Riley have been around then?" Fin continues, ignoring his questions. She was right; Fin one, Jenkins zero.

"I mean, how are you supposed to take a man down?" Jenkins laughs loudly. "You're cute, though. I'll give you that."

Damn it. Fin sighs. Sometimes she just hates people. "Sir, the FBI hasn't had a height requirement since 1975, when they removed it because it was discriminatory, and mainly against women. As for age, I'm twenty-five. I'm also an excellent marksman, and as you can see, I carry a gun, so that's probably my best option to take someone down, and unless you care to test that, I'd suggest you answer our questions."

Jenkins pauses, then chuckles. "Damn. You're a feisty one." He jabs Spencer in the shoulder pleasantly. "Keep her around, son."

When Spencer doesn't answer, there's a long silence, and then Jenkins sighs. "Why are you doing this?"

"I need to know," Spencer replies simply. His hand brushes Fin's, and whether an accident or on purpose, she shivers involuntarily.

"Take it from someone who does know, he was a good man."

Morgan looks between Jenkins and Spencer, and then nods. "Thanks for your time." He pats Spencer's chest purposefully and heads toward their SUV, where Rossi's patiently waiting, but Spencer's still staring at Jenkins. Fin hangs back, a little unsure of what Spencer might say.

He gathers his thoughts, swallows, then asks, "Where is he, these days? My dad?"

"It's been years, but he's probably still at that same firm in Summerlin," Jenkins replies, a little confused.

Spencer's mouth opens in surprise. "He's been in town this whole time?"

Oh, no.

"Far as I know." Jenkins shrugs.

Spencer nods, and then turns toward the car, walking quickly. Fin jogs to keep up with him, looking up at his face, trying to read his expression. "You know Summerlin?"

"Yeah, it's like nine miles east of here, off the 95." Spencer's doing his best to keep calm, but Fin can tell he's seriously angry. "He was ten minutes away and never let me know."

And he storms over to the SUV, wrenches open the passenger door, and slams it behind him.

✩

Spencer's posture changes when they walk through the front door of William Reid's law firm. Fin can feel the anger and resentment almost rippling off of him, but she resists the urge to touch him, hold his hand. It's not the time.

The secretary behind the front desk looks up when they walk in. "Can I help you gentlemen?" she asks, standing up immediately, and then her eyes land on Fin behind Spencer, Rossi, and Morgan. "Excuse me-and lady."

"Yeah." Spencer nods, opens his mouth to say something, and then freezes, tongue between his teeth in anticipation. It's like he has a thousand things to say and can't decide on any of them. You can almost hear his brain whirring.

"We'd like to speak with William Reid," Fin says, and it's only when Spencer shifts from foot to foot beside her that she realizes she'd put her hand right on the small of his back. He doesn't pull away. Fin likes to imagine he leans into her hand, rests against it-and maybe she's not imagining as much as she thinks.

"Is he expecting you?" the secretary asks.

"I don't think so." Rossi fishes in his pocket and places his badge on the counter for her to see.

Her eyes rove over it, and then she nods. "Well, he's in a meeting right now, but why don't you have a seat, and I'll tell him you're here."

Fin looks up at Spencer, chewing on her bottom lip worriedly. He's almost trembling, shifting his weight uneasily, licking his lips like he wants to say something and then blinking quickly. She can't decide if he's angry, scared, anxious, or a combination of the three.

Morgan seems to be thinking the same thing. "You okay?"

Spencer nods way too quickly. "Yeah." Then he shakes his head. "No. Yeah. I'm gonna go to the bathroom." And then he's striding away, down the hall, and disappears into a door on the left.

"I've never seen him like this before," Morgan says quietly, watching him walk away.

"Me either." Fin worries too much, she knows it, but today, it feels like something's really wrong. "Do you think he's gonna be okay?"

"Seventeen years is a long time to go between visits." Rossi shrugs.

"Not long enough," Morgan replies. "The kid's still angry."

"Yeah, I'm starting to get that."

And then they both turn to Fin expectantly. She raises her eyebrows. "Do I have something on my face?"

Morgan grins and jerks his thumb toward the bathroom. "Go get the kid, dumbass."

"Why me? It's a mens' bathroom!"

"We all know why," Morgan says, giving her a not-too-subtle wink. "Because Reid likes your cute lil' face a lot better than he likes me or Rossi. Now get."

"It's not like that, Derek." Fin rolls her eyes. And lies through her teeth.

But she goes anyway.

The hand dryer is going violently in the bathroom when she knocks, and Spencer's voice sounds snappish when he replies, "Out in a minute!"

Fin leans against the opposite wall and waits. After a moment, the hand dryer stops and Spencer appears, looking just as stressed as before, but his expression softens when he sees her.

"Spence, are you okay?" Fin frowns at him, taking in his appearance. Even when he's this volatile, he still manages to be so pretty. She hates it.

"Fine."

"Bullshit." She pushes herself off the wall and does something she's never done before: she reaches up and touches his face. It's a simple touch; a finger tilting his chin up, a brush of skin on skin, but it sends an electric shock down her arm, her spine, and into her stomach. "You can talk to me, remember?"

Spencer shakes his head, shoves his shaking hands in his pockets. "I don't know... I'm just-I'm angry and nervous and I feel like I could throw up, but I can't-I can't hate him. And I want to. I want to hate him so badly. But-"

"But he's your dad," Fin finishes for him, smiling sadly. She understands this feeling all too well. "Yeah, I get it."

"You do?"

More than you know. "Dysfunctional family, remember?" She laughs bitterly, feeling those familiar emotions rise to the surface unbidden. "I get so angry at them sometimes, hate what I remember them for, but no matter what, they're still my family. Still the people who raised me. And all my life, I've never been able to hate them."

Spencer's anger is gone, and now he's just watching her quietly. Fin hates when he does this, because she knows he's hearing more than the words she's saying. "Do-do you want to talk about it?" he asks finally, his voice almost a whisper.

Her expression tells him 'no', though her heart screams yes God please yes I want to tell you everything. She can't. She wants to, so badly, but the only person who ever knew ruined her. She can't let that happen again. Won't break her own heart again.

So she just pats his shoulder and gives him a bracing smile. "Come on, Dr. Reid. We can do this."

And together, two beautifully shattered souls, each longing to know the other, they walk back toward the lobby.

"My son? Did something happen?" A male voice, concerned and confused. Spencer quickens his pace and Fin jogs to keep up-until they come around the corner and see Morgan, Rossi, and a shorter man who looks like a weasel.

"That's what we're trying to find out," Spencer says in a monotone voice, stopping right in front of his father. Tension erupts between them, neither one breaking eye contact. Spencer looks William Reid up and down, and then swallows hard. "Hello, Dad."

"Well, um-" William's clearly uncomfortable, but he won't be embarrassed at his own firm- "Please, uh, step into my office."

Rossi settles on a couch against the wall, Morgan leans against a bookcase, and William drops into the chair in front of his desk. Spencer doesn't want to sit, clearly, but Fin pulls him toward the sofa directly across from William. She lets her hand brush his to let him know she's here for him, before fixing her eyes on his father.

"You don't look like me anymore," William says after a tense silence, chuckling nervously. "You used to. Everybody says so."

It's true; Spencer looks nothing like William. His hair is lighter, eyes brighter, jawline sharper. Even in this dim light, as stressed as he is, Fin thinks he's ten times more handsome than William could ever have hoped to be. But that's just her opinion.

"They say some people look like their dogs, too," Spencer replies, a little bitterly. "It's attributed to prolonged mutual exposure. Elderly couples, too. They unconsciously mimic the expressions of people they've been around their whole life." He chuckles humorlessly. "So it kind of-kind of makes sense that I wouldn't really look like you. I haven't seen you in twenty years."

The tense silence is here again. Spencer's eyes are watery and William's have a kind of sad understanding in them, before he says, "So are you in town on work?"

"We're just wrapping up a case," Rossi replies, before Spencer can say anything.

"A five-year-old boy was abducted and murdered," Morgan adds seriously.

"I read about that." William nods. "Uh, Ethan Hayes, right? That's terrible." He doesn't sound very sad about it.

"That case got me thinking about Riley Jenkins," Spencer says now, and Fin notices a muscle in his jaw twitching. She has a strange, terrifying urge to kiss it. Stop it. "You remember Riley Jenkins?"

"Of course."

"I've been having dreams about him for a really long time," Spencer continues. "But when we came back here for this case-" A meaningful glance at Fin- "it jogged something and the dream changed." His voice grows quieter, and there's so much emotion in it, Fin's not sure what to make of it. "I saw his killer...and it was you."

"Interesting dream," is all the bastard replies.

"You're not surprised?" Fin asks, leaning forward as an excuse to press her knee gently against Spencer's. He doesn't move away.

"I stopped being surprised by Spencer's mind a long time ago," William says nonchalantly. Fin can see beads of sweat on his forehead, though, which means he's nervous.

"There are certain criteria we consider when looking at these type of suspect," Rossi says evenly. "You fit parts of that profile."

"Me?" He barely sounds surprised. Spencer tenses beside her, and surreptitiously, Fin opens her hand to him on the couch between them.

"We just want your cooperation." Rossi's a master at keeping his tone even, ambiguous.

"My cooperat-" William's laughing until he looks around at all of their faces. None of them are laughing. "You're not actually saying you think I killed Riley Jenkins?"

Spencer's fingers brush her palm lightly, and then he intertwines their fingers. Butterflies flutter in Fin's stomach, but she ignores them. "We didn't say that," Spencer replies quietly.

"Good, 'cause that's absurd!" He's defensive now, but Fin's not entirely certain he's really surprised. There's something off about the way he says things, the way he looks at Spencer.

"We'd just like permission to look through your computer, your records, that kind of thing," Fin says, studying William's face.

"Yeah, and what would you be looking for exactly?"

Her face says it all.

William's jaw clenches, and he looks directly at Spencer. "You want access to my files? Get a warrant."

✩

They do not get a warrant.

But they do get Garcia, which is even better and only slightly more illegal. And the next morning, Spencer comes rushing down to the lobby-he looks far too attractive in a purple shirt-with a file in his hand, saying that it just mysteriously appeared under his door last night and that it's full of evidence against a guy named Gary Michaels.

"Was the envelope dropped off at the front desk first?" Rossi asks, staring at Michaels' mug shots. The guy definitely looks like a pedophile, if that means anything at all. Buggy eyes, no chin... It's like he's screaming stranger-danger.

Spencer shakes his head determinedly. "Nope, it went straight to my room."

"So they knew what room you were in." Fin chews on her lip, staring at the manila envelope with a sticky note attached. You're looking at the wrong guy...

"I do have to admit, the timing of this is a little suspicious," Morgan says.

"Yeah, an hour after I see my father, we're handed another suspect." Spencer's trying his best to sound nonchalant, but Fin can tell he doesn't really want to believe his dad's not the guy. She kind of gets it, even if it is weird. After thinking the worst of a parent, you don't really want to be wrong.

"You think you knew this guy?" Rossi asks, glancing up at Spencer, who shrugs.

"I don't know. I-I think so, but I'm not sure. I-I- No, I don't know." Overcorrection. Question inflections. He's hiding something.

"Exposed himself to a minor," Rossi says, squinting down at the rap sheet. "That's a precursor to molestation."

"And murder," Morgan adds. "We should take a closer look at this guy." His phone rings, and he pulls it out. "It's Garcia." He presses ACCEPT and then SPEAKER. "Yeah, talk to me, baby girl."

"I'm not interrupting boy time at Crazy Horse 2, am I?"

Fin wrinkles her nose. "Ew. Penelope, I'm still here!"

"And anyway, not my thing," Morgan says into the phone, smirking. "I'm more for in-room entertainment."

"I can't help you there," Penelope replies, and then lowers her voice. "But I do give good phone."

"I'm gonna throw up in my mouth, Penna."

"Hazelnut, you are no fun."

"Excuse you." Fin grins. "I am all the fun. But I know you know that, so what's the real reason you called?"

"Okay, okay. Reid, we've been all up in your father's business."

"What did you find?" Spencer crosses his arms across his chest, his voice low. He's nervous, and rightly so.

"Well, let me tell you first what I did not find," Penelope replies, typing quickly. "No kiddie porn, no membership to illicit websites, no dubious emails, no chat room history."

"What about his finances?" Spencer asks.

"We went back ten years." This time, it's Hotch who speaks, and Fin was not expecting that. "No questionable transactions that we can find."

"Well, he did buy a ticket to see Céline Dion six months ago." Emily's voice now, and a smile spreads across Fin's face. She misses Emily. "But I think we can overlook that."

"You know, maybe it's better that you don't have any contact with your dad, Spence," Fin says wryly. "I mean, if his music taste is this bad."

But Spencer doesn't laugh. He doesn't even look at her. Her heart sinks a little despite the circumstances. "He's smart. Is it possible he kept things under the table?"

"Well, of course," Hotch replies, and there's a touch of pity in his voice. "But from what we can tell, Reid, he doesn't fit the profile."

"We can tell you other things about him, if you want to know," Emily adds, a little softer.

Spencer glances at Fin, like he's trying to tell if she's judging him-she's not-before saying, "I'm listening."

"Uh, he's a workaholic," Emily replies. "He actually logs more hours than we do."

"And that is hard to do," Fin laughs, a little bitterly. She hasn't slept more than six hours in a week.

"He makes decent money, but he doesn't spend a lot of it. He has a modest house. He drives a hybrid."

"Sounds like a white soccer mom," Fin mutters to Morgan, who snickers.

"He doesn't travel much. He stays away from the casinos." Emily pauses for a moment. "Um, and according to his veterinary bills, he has a very sick cat."

"He appears to spend most of his free time alone," Hotch says. "He goes to the movies a lot, and he reads. And from his collection of first editions, it seems his favorite author is-"

"Isaac Asimov," Spencer finishes, nodding. "I remember that one." He swallows hard. Fin wants to take his hand, to hold him. She can't remember ever wanting to comfort someone the way that she wants to comfort Spencer. I miss the night I held him, she thinks in spite of herself.

"He does have one other major interest," Penelope says, breaking her silence. "On his home computer, he's archived, like, a ka-jillion things on one common subject."

"What?" Spencer asks, narrowing his eyes. Fin thinks she knows what it is, but she says nothing.

"You, kiddo. He's got, like, everything that's been published online. Every article you've been quoted in, pieces you've written for behavioral science journals... He even has a copy of your dissertation."

"He's keeping tabs on you," Rossi says. "That's saying something." Fin has to restrain herself from saying, "Duh."

But when Spencer looks up, his expression is one of poorly concealed pain and anger. "Yeah, he Googled me. That makes up for everything."

"Spencer-" Fin reaches out for him, but he brushes past her.

"I'm going to get some air."

~

ok so the tension is killing me and i have a very strong urge to just *skip* to the fUn stuff, but i will not spare y'all this uncomfy sexual tension because im a sadist, ya know, and i'm just gonna keep writing. but ya girl's gonna need support to keep this up, it's very difficult. *wipes sweat from brow*

but seriously spencer&fin are the cutest thing in the whole wide world aside from penelope. i take this story far too seriously

i love you all so muchhh *sends love in the mail*