𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

just you and me- spencer

You weren't sure how the situation had escalated so quickly, you'd just barely managed to convince yourself to go on the undercover assignment, nevermind ending up in the middle of a dancefloor with a slow song tickling your senses and your secret partner holding you in his arms. As far as assignments went, you've had worse and could definitely picture worse still but the moment felt cruel in its creation, forcing to the surface feelings you spent every second pushing aside.

"Spencer," you had almost no control over the nerves that slid through your voice, it was alarming, honestly, since nerves were the last thing the team needed from you. "They're all looking at us," you were painfully aware of how silly the statement sounded, that was the point, after all, but really it wasn't a reference to the fact that you were being watched and instead that you were being profiled, read like two coverless books, bare and spineless right before their eyes and it was illogical but that shook you more than the possible kidnapper you were trying to lure out.

"I know," he breathed and you swore his touch was laced with gasoline, a fire lighting under your skin as he moved his hand to your lower back, the other hand squeezing yours from where it held yours tightly. "Don't think about them," it was something easier said than done and was quite frankly more aimed at his nerves than your own.

Morgan was watching from the bar, talking to Emily, looking to the world like two people flirting when really he was looking for anyone that looked out of place. Though not nearly as convincing as the others, Hotch was sitting at a table by himself, keeping his gaze on the pair of you, and that was surely the problem because if Spencer could see through his act then he would definitely see through yours. Because the real problem was not that the two of you had to look like a convincing couple, but that you would be just slightly too good at it- which you definitely were.

Spencer found your gaze again, brows furrowed at the sight of you, eyes large and concerned, lip caught between your teeth as you fisted his shirt in your fingers, willing yourself to stay focused when this was the most time the two of you've had together since you caught this case. He was conflicted, he wanted to bring his thumb up to brush your lip to safety, bring his lips to your forehead to rid it of that little crease, wanted to pull you right into his chest to let you nuzzle your face into his neck- but he couldn't and so he had to find a way to work around it.

"Don't think about them," he repeated, and couldn't fight a small smile when you rolled your eyes at him, very unpleased with his seemingly unbothered behavior. He led you into a slight turn, pulling you just the slightest bit closer than before in the process, shielding you from the eyes of your team as well. "Now, it's just you and me," he explained and it was very convincing, the room around you feeling suddenly bare, empty, utterly devoid of anything but the man you loved and a song you would now and forever label as your favourite.

"I love this song," you breathed calmly, giving in to the sway of his hips guiding yours and he was admittedly pleased with himself when you smiled back at him, fingers easing their hold on his own, he was less pleased with that. You were settling into his arms despite your better judgment, leaning in just enough for him to feel your chest against his own, feel your breathing as you tried to hide the way you were desperate for even less space. "We've never danced like this before," you noted and it was true, you hardly found yourselves in places where it was possible but it was a welcoming foreignness, one you hoped would never be foreign again.

"We haven't," he agreed and his voice was dazed, dreamlike in its absence of any sense of formality, lost in you, drowning in you as he moved almost naturally, habitually to embrace you, your own movements completely unplanned as you rested your head just below his shoulder, breathing in softly as his scent surrounded you now more so than before. He realized barely a second later what this must've looked like from another perspective and followed his carelessness by dancing around slowly, circling your spot to give the bar a faux interrogating glance.

"You know..." your voice was softer than before, a familiar sound to your lover as he brushed his hand up and down your back, grounding you as you managed to shield a quick kiss to his collarbone, hiding it by pretending to scratch your nose with his shirt. "I don't think you understand just how awfully torturous it is to be this close to you and not be able to kiss you."

"Trust me," he began and the scoff he breathed was almost bitter, but more than anything it was disbelieved, tremored, barely keeping his affection at bay when you tilted your head back to look up at him, the light catching your features so perfectly it was almost cruel, he'd not seen you so content, so relaxed in what felt like forever. "I understand perfectly."

Someone was speaking into his earpiece then, Morgan, you gathered by the look on Spencer's face. Hotch walked out of the bar before you could overhear what was being said, Emily following close behind and Morgan, though clearly on his way out, making sure to offer you a quick wink before disappearing behind the shimmering tinsel curtains.

" What was that?" you frowned, Spencer shaking his head as he proceeded to move his hand away from his ear where he'd had it hovering while listening. You couldn't tell what he was thinking, what was going on aside from the fact that the assignment was clearly a bust- but what you were sure of was the sort of sparkle that met Spencer's gaze as he daringly, far too recklessly brought that very hand to cup your cheek.

"Do you have a crush on me?" he demanded and as simple as the question, everything fell into place almost instantly, your face falling into mock guilt as you nodded lightly, leaning into his touch.

"Was it that obvious?" you mused, and he laughed lightly, a breathy sound, so effortless it felt almost unreal as he kissed you quickly, first just a peck and then another lingering yet tenderly brisk kiss. He hummed- satisfied as if he'd been waiting for the chance forever, longing for a taste far too long.

"Terribly," he countered and you knew your skin was burning against his palm at the intensity of his focus on you, unfiltered, completely genuine and unhidden, willingly exposed. "Just you and me," he explained as if he'd ever need to explain being so openly in love with you.

"Just you and me," you repeated and it was you who acted this time, making sure the next kiss he gave you lasted far longer than a second, and ended after far more than just the one.