Lucky Strike

Chapter 17

I skip into the BAU, practically giddy that I passed my firearms qualification. I hang my Gucci bag off of the back of my chair and when I look up, I see a small box with my favorite colored bow on top.

"What's this?", I ask Morgan, who is watching me from his desk.

"Don't know, it's not from me", he says with a knowing smile.

I look around the room for Spencer, but I cannot find him. I shrug and open the box, revealing a blue sticky-note with Spencer's messy handwriting scrawled across it and a phone number that I recognize as his work phone.

Call me to redeem your reward.

My heart skips and I quickly shove the note in my pocket before Morgan could ask me any questions. I take a seat at my desk and try to start doing my work, but the sight of Spencer in a dark purple button-up distracts me.

He looks at me from his desk as he slowly rolls the sleeves up his forearms, exposing the veins and tendons that ripple beneath his skin. Goosebumps prickle over my skin at the thought of those muscles flexing as he fucks me with his fingers.

Snap out of it!

Spencer drags his tongue over his bottom lip as he watches me and I just know he is devising some evil plan to torture me.

I almost pick up my phone to call him, but the sound of my name being called in Hotch's deep voice stops me in my tracks.

"Yes, sir?", I reply, turning around in my chair so I can see him as he walks towards my desk.

"You never turned in your paperwork from Tuesday", he says.

"What paperwork?"

"From the last case? I never received your report."

"I'm sorry, sir, but I swear I put it on your desk. I finished filling it out and before I left -I"

Fucking Spencer.

"Come with me to my office", he orders before starting up the stairs.

I follow him into his stuffy office and take a seat across from him in the uncomfortable faux-leather chair. Everything about Hotch's office screamed workaholic and if it weren't for the few pictures of his family, the room could pass as a furniture display.

"You're a good agent, Y/n, I can't deny you that, but you need to keep your head here. I know you want to be out in the field, but the paperwork is part of the job. You should be glad Reid pointed this out to me when he did because pretty soon you would be receiving a call from Strauss."

"Wait, what?", I ask, my mouth agape.

"I'm sorry?"

"Reid told you about this?"

"I know you two don't get along, but he saved you from some serious trouble. You're lucky", he says.

I take a deep breath, my eyes squeezing shut as I calm the anger bubbling up inside of me.

"Is that all, sir?", I ask.

"Yes, but please get that paperwork to me as soon as possible."

I give him a curt nod before I stand from the chair. The noise of my clammy arms peeling away from the chair serves to irritate me further, but I found relief in the cooler air of the open office.

I sit back down at my desk and locate the slightly wrinkled paper that I need to submit. As I read it over, the sticky note from Spencer catches my eye. I feel the slight burn of anger in my stomach from thinking about him.

I angle my chair so I am facing Spencer, and his eyes flick over to me. It takes him a moment to realize I want his attention, but when he does, I can feel his gaze on my skin like pins and needles.

I crumple the paper in my hand and throw it in my small trash can, all while maintaining eye contact with the man across the room from me.

He raises an eyebrow at me, almost as if he is challenging me, but I don't take the bait. I know that he wants me to react, that's why he does the things he does. He wants to get a rise out of me because he loves seeing Little Miss Perfect fall apart because of him.

Every time I fall apart, I get rebuilt stronger.