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innerslytherinTitle: Old Memories and New Loves
Pairings: Rossi/Prentiss & Hotch/Reid
Rating: PG-13
WC: 1730
Summary: Emily talks about deleting her Facebook account and Aaron deals with troublesome memories.
NOTES: Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
resolucidity for the beta. Spoilers for "The Internet is Forever".
Series: The Fifth Year - a series of Season Five episode tags:
1. Not So Alone, 2. Weeping Endures for a Night, 3. The Blink of an Eye, 4. Trust and Regret, 5. Something Pretty Wonderful, 6. Hope and Bourbon, 7. Shaking Things Up, 8. Cementing, 9. Life Goes On, 10. Reeling, 11. About Last Friday, 12. Past Motivations, 13. Taking the Plunge, 14. Plummeting, 15. Moments of Respite, 16. Kind of a Romantic Tale, 17. Transgressions, 18. Show Me a Hero, 19. A Gentle Place, 20. Objectivity and Companionship, 21. What Passes for Normal, 22 Extracurricular Reading, 23. Strange Little Families, 24. Coming Clean
"I think I'm going to delete my Facebook account," Emily said.
Dave laughed. "I thought that was how you kept in touch with your college friends."
Emily knew Dave didn't know the first thing about Facebook, but she could spend hours on it, catching up with her friends or playing Scrabble. He'd looked at the page over her shoulder when she checked it on his home computer, but he'd never seen the appeal, even after she'd tried to get him hooked on MafiaWars.
When she thought about it she was a little embarrassed that she'd suggested the girls might have a hundred friends each. She'd been basing that estimate on her own Facebook friends list, but after looking at the thousand or more friends each of the victims had, she felt like a underachiever. Then again, she hadn't friended some of the awful guys she'd dated in college and grad school, so maybe that was a point in her favor.
"Yeah, and Jordan Todd, but they all have my phone number and my email address. I may go back old school."
He snorted. "Old school would be sending them letters with color prints inside," he told her. "It's what my mama still does. Hey, that reminds me," he said, digging his wallet out of his pocket. "She sent me an extra picture of my brother's kid. Want one?"
Emily raised her eyebrows as he handed her Max's senior picture. "Okay," she said, and smiled down at the picture for a minute. "Thanks."
What the hell am I going to do with this? she wanted to ask, but at the same time it was incredibly sweet that Dave wanted her to have his nephew's senior picture. She slipped it into her jacket pocket and twined her fingers with his. They'd been letting the line between professional and personal slip even further once cases were finished, and they were nearly at the jet.
"Mama wants to know when I'm introducing you to the rest of the family," Dave murmured.
A jolt of nerves went through Emily. She hadn't even introduced Dave to her mother yet, despite knowing that come July Third they would be married whether the Ambassador liked it or not.
"Can't they just...come to the wedding and meet me there?" she asked, glancing up at him and biting her lips together to keep from grinning.
"No."
She pouted at him as long as she could, then broke out laughing. "Okay, okay, how about we have a Memorial Day cookout? At your place, so the kids have somewhere to play frisbee golf or cornhole or something. And we could get a wading pool for the little kids, and a porch swing for your mama and papa."
Dave stopped walking and raised his eyebrows, but after a moment he nodded. "Okay. Sounds good."
***
"You said you liked it," Spencer grumped.
Aaron slipped his fingers through the newly-shorn locks. "I do," he murmured, and brushed a kiss against Spencer's lips. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."
Spencer grunted. "I could have cut it as short as yours was," he said, but he leaned against Aaron briefly.
After a moment, Aaron sighed. "Come on. We need to get back to the jet. I'm ready to be home."
***
Emily sighed and leaned into Dave, resting her head against his chest. "I don't know what's worse, that this is the second time I've stood in a freezer full of dead women, or that watching Allison Kittredge die was like watching Reid die in Georgia."
He stroked his fingers over her hair, wishing he knew what to say. He hadn't been on the team when that happened, and he was confident--or arrogant--enough to think things wouldn't have happened quite the way they did if he had been.
"He didn't even blink," she murmured. "I think it was harder on JJ than it was on Spencer."
"He's stronger than we give him credit for, you know," Dave said. "He's had years to learn how to emulate Aaron."
She laughed faintly. "Good point." Her hand slipped up to rest against his sternum, and he couldn't resist smiling at the way his diamond sparkled on her finger. He'd always fallen in love easily, but he couldn't remember ever feeling quite so proud--or so humbled--that a woman had chosen him. He prayed it meant he wouldn't let Emily down.
"As strange as this might sound," he admitted slowly, "I'm sort of sorry I wasn't with you all when that happened." He focused his attention on the repetitive motion of his fingers through the satiny strands of her hair and hoped she wouldn't be upset by his words.
"You were with us when Hotch needed us," Emily said. "And that was harder, because Reid isn't as standoffish as Hotch." She sighed and tipped her head to kiss his jaw.
Dave smiled. "Reid can be as prickly as a hedgehog when he wants to be."
Emily hummed an acknowledgement, but Dave could tell she was half asleep. He closed his eyes and kept stroking her hair.
***
"Spesser!" Jack shrieked, launching himself into Spencer's arms.
Spencer caught him, then staggered, exaggerating the movement to make Jack laugh. Usually it made Aaron laugh too, but today there was no sound from his lover.
"Wow, you're heavy, buddy," Spencer said, and Jack giggled.
"I'm not heavy, you're heavy!" he said.
"I don't know, I think you're heavier," Spencer replied.
"No, you!"
Spencer laughed. Jack could go endless rounds of "no, you" without getting tired. Spencer wondered if that refuted the theories about children having short attention spans. Then again, after the way Jack could bounce from toy to toy to toy like a bumblebee on crack, Spencer had a feeling the short attention span theory was right.
"We should let your Aunt Jess take a break," he said, rubbing Jack's back. "Kiss her goodbye."
Jack obediently wormed out of Spencer's grip long enough for a smacking kiss on Jessica's cheek, then tugged on Spencer's pant leg to be lifted again.
"C'we color when we get home?" he asked as soon as he had his arms twined around Spencer's neck. "You said you'd show me how to make crayons look differ'nt colors."
Spencer smiled. "As long as your dad doesn't have other plans," he said.
"Coloring is fine," Aaron said. He didn't quite meet Spencer's gaze.
Aaron was silent all the way home, but Spencer didn't pursue it, letting Jack chatter away happily about how he and Aunt Jessica had gone to the pool and gone to the park and walked Uncle Dave's dog and watched Thomas the Tank Engine. While Aaron prepared supper, Spencer and Jack colored, and Spencer showed him how to blend colors with the crayons. Jack's attempt was heavier-handed than Spencer's, but it showed a decent artistic ability.
It wasn't until Jack was fed and bathed and tucked in that Spencer finally decided it was time to tackle whatever was bothering Aaron. His lover was sitting on the couch, flipping through channels on the muted TV. Spencer wiped up a few dishes, then poured them each a drink--bourbon for Aaron, Riesling for Spencer, and sat next to him.
They stared silently at the TV for a while, Aaron's restlessness manifesting in flips from CNN to TNT to Fox News to Discovery to History and back to CNN.
Finally Spencer took the remote out of Aaron's hand.
"Is that what it was like for you guys? When Hankel killed me?" He was proud that his voice didn't shake.
Aaron went still.
He wasn't a man given to expressive gestures in any case. He was a self-contained man, his emotions almost entirely under his control, his thoughts shielded behind a wall of charcoal gray worsted. But Spencer had grown accustomed to the way Aaron breathed and how his shoulders felt when he was relaxed, so he noticed when Aaron stopped breathing and moving for a few seconds.
"Those were some of the worst moments of my life," Aaron said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. He didn't look away from the television. "Watching you on the screen...I'd never seen you look so...and I'd already gotten Elle shot, and then knowing that it was my fault Hankel--"
Spencer had heard enough. He pressed his hand against Aaron's lips. "No," he said firmly. "Randall Garner shot Elle, and Anderson didn't follow your instructions. And Hankel killed me because of Gideon's decision to have Garcia cut the feed." He tilted his head, studying Aaron's face. How was it possible that Spencer had finally come to view his own experiences from a distance, in an almost clinical light, while Aaron could still feel such horrible--and misplaced--guilt over everything?
He leaned in and kissed Aaron softly. "It was never your fault. I was clinging to the knowledge that you would understand what I said. I didn't give up because I knew you would be coming for me.". He gripped Aaron's shoulders and turned them both so they were facing each other. "Aaron, can you honestly think I would be with you right now if it were your fault? Do you believe I would have kept working for you? Can't you understand that my respect for you has never diminished?"
Aaron sucked in a breath and finally met his gaze.
Spencer pressed his lips together and gave Aaron a crooked smile. "Be logical," he said, shaking him gently. "I've never blamed you. I didn't blame Gideon and I didn't blame Garcia, and I've never blamed you." He stroked his fingertips against Aaron's cheekbone. "Maybe Elle blamed you once, but I bet she doesn't now. And anyway, I'm not Elle."
"Thank God," Aaron uttered, his voice thick but somehow surprised and almost amused.
"Yeah," Spencer said. He shook Aaron gently once more, just for good measure, then slid his arms around him and pulled him close. "I love you, Aaron. I loved you before Hankel, and I've loved you since Hankel."
Aaron's arms closed around him tightly. They held each other for a long time. After a while Aaron's breathing grew less ragged. "It was sort of like that," he murmured. "Except I didn't know any of the victims this time."
Spencer nodded and kissed Aaron's neck. "Then let's go to bed," he suggested. "I'll try to make you forget."
Aaron stood. "That sounds like a very good idea."
Pairings: Rossi/Prentiss & Hotch/Reid
Rating: PG-13
WC: 1730
Summary: Emily talks about deleting her Facebook account and Aaron deals with troublesome memories.
NOTES: Thanks to
resolucidity for the beta. Spoilers for "The Internet is Forever".Series: The Fifth Year - a series of Season Five episode tags:
1. Not So Alone, 2. Weeping Endures for a Night, 3. The Blink of an Eye, 4. Trust and Regret, 5. Something Pretty Wonderful, 6. Hope and Bourbon, 7. Shaking Things Up, 8. Cementing, 9. Life Goes On, 10. Reeling, 11. About Last Friday, 12. Past Motivations, 13. Taking the Plunge, 14. Plummeting, 15. Moments of Respite, 16. Kind of a Romantic Tale, 17. Transgressions, 18. Show Me a Hero, 19. A Gentle Place, 20. Objectivity and Companionship, 21. What Passes for Normal, 22 Extracurricular Reading, 23. Strange Little Families, 24. Coming Clean
"I think I'm going to delete my Facebook account," Emily said.
Dave laughed. "I thought that was how you kept in touch with your college friends."
Emily knew Dave didn't know the first thing about Facebook, but she could spend hours on it, catching up with her friends or playing Scrabble. He'd looked at the page over her shoulder when she checked it on his home computer, but he'd never seen the appeal, even after she'd tried to get him hooked on MafiaWars.
When she thought about it she was a little embarrassed that she'd suggested the girls might have a hundred friends each. She'd been basing that estimate on her own Facebook friends list, but after looking at the thousand or more friends each of the victims had, she felt like a underachiever. Then again, she hadn't friended some of the awful guys she'd dated in college and grad school, so maybe that was a point in her favor.
"Yeah, and Jordan Todd, but they all have my phone number and my email address. I may go back old school."
He snorted. "Old school would be sending them letters with color prints inside," he told her. "It's what my mama still does. Hey, that reminds me," he said, digging his wallet out of his pocket. "She sent me an extra picture of my brother's kid. Want one?"
Emily raised her eyebrows as he handed her Max's senior picture. "Okay," she said, and smiled down at the picture for a minute. "Thanks."
What the hell am I going to do with this? she wanted to ask, but at the same time it was incredibly sweet that Dave wanted her to have his nephew's senior picture. She slipped it into her jacket pocket and twined her fingers with his. They'd been letting the line between professional and personal slip even further once cases were finished, and they were nearly at the jet.
"Mama wants to know when I'm introducing you to the rest of the family," Dave murmured.
A jolt of nerves went through Emily. She hadn't even introduced Dave to her mother yet, despite knowing that come July Third they would be married whether the Ambassador liked it or not.
"Can't they just...come to the wedding and meet me there?" she asked, glancing up at him and biting her lips together to keep from grinning.
"No."
She pouted at him as long as she could, then broke out laughing. "Okay, okay, how about we have a Memorial Day cookout? At your place, so the kids have somewhere to play frisbee golf or cornhole or something. And we could get a wading pool for the little kids, and a porch swing for your mama and papa."
Dave stopped walking and raised his eyebrows, but after a moment he nodded. "Okay. Sounds good."
***
"You said you liked it," Spencer grumped.
Aaron slipped his fingers through the newly-shorn locks. "I do," he murmured, and brushed a kiss against Spencer's lips. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."
Spencer grunted. "I could have cut it as short as yours was," he said, but he leaned against Aaron briefly.
After a moment, Aaron sighed. "Come on. We need to get back to the jet. I'm ready to be home."
***
Emily sighed and leaned into Dave, resting her head against his chest. "I don't know what's worse, that this is the second time I've stood in a freezer full of dead women, or that watching Allison Kittredge die was like watching Reid die in Georgia."
He stroked his fingers over her hair, wishing he knew what to say. He hadn't been on the team when that happened, and he was confident--or arrogant--enough to think things wouldn't have happened quite the way they did if he had been.
"He didn't even blink," she murmured. "I think it was harder on JJ than it was on Spencer."
"He's stronger than we give him credit for, you know," Dave said. "He's had years to learn how to emulate Aaron."
She laughed faintly. "Good point." Her hand slipped up to rest against his sternum, and he couldn't resist smiling at the way his diamond sparkled on her finger. He'd always fallen in love easily, but he couldn't remember ever feeling quite so proud--or so humbled--that a woman had chosen him. He prayed it meant he wouldn't let Emily down.
"As strange as this might sound," he admitted slowly, "I'm sort of sorry I wasn't with you all when that happened." He focused his attention on the repetitive motion of his fingers through the satiny strands of her hair and hoped she wouldn't be upset by his words.
"You were with us when Hotch needed us," Emily said. "And that was harder, because Reid isn't as standoffish as Hotch." She sighed and tipped her head to kiss his jaw.
Dave smiled. "Reid can be as prickly as a hedgehog when he wants to be."
Emily hummed an acknowledgement, but Dave could tell she was half asleep. He closed his eyes and kept stroking her hair.
***
"Spesser!" Jack shrieked, launching himself into Spencer's arms.
Spencer caught him, then staggered, exaggerating the movement to make Jack laugh. Usually it made Aaron laugh too, but today there was no sound from his lover.
"Wow, you're heavy, buddy," Spencer said, and Jack giggled.
"I'm not heavy, you're heavy!" he said.
"I don't know, I think you're heavier," Spencer replied.
"No, you!"
Spencer laughed. Jack could go endless rounds of "no, you" without getting tired. Spencer wondered if that refuted the theories about children having short attention spans. Then again, after the way Jack could bounce from toy to toy to toy like a bumblebee on crack, Spencer had a feeling the short attention span theory was right.
"We should let your Aunt Jess take a break," he said, rubbing Jack's back. "Kiss her goodbye."
Jack obediently wormed out of Spencer's grip long enough for a smacking kiss on Jessica's cheek, then tugged on Spencer's pant leg to be lifted again.
"C'we color when we get home?" he asked as soon as he had his arms twined around Spencer's neck. "You said you'd show me how to make crayons look differ'nt colors."
Spencer smiled. "As long as your dad doesn't have other plans," he said.
"Coloring is fine," Aaron said. He didn't quite meet Spencer's gaze.
Aaron was silent all the way home, but Spencer didn't pursue it, letting Jack chatter away happily about how he and Aunt Jessica had gone to the pool and gone to the park and walked Uncle Dave's dog and watched Thomas the Tank Engine. While Aaron prepared supper, Spencer and Jack colored, and Spencer showed him how to blend colors with the crayons. Jack's attempt was heavier-handed than Spencer's, but it showed a decent artistic ability.
It wasn't until Jack was fed and bathed and tucked in that Spencer finally decided it was time to tackle whatever was bothering Aaron. His lover was sitting on the couch, flipping through channels on the muted TV. Spencer wiped up a few dishes, then poured them each a drink--bourbon for Aaron, Riesling for Spencer, and sat next to him.
They stared silently at the TV for a while, Aaron's restlessness manifesting in flips from CNN to TNT to Fox News to Discovery to History and back to CNN.
Finally Spencer took the remote out of Aaron's hand.
"Is that what it was like for you guys? When Hankel killed me?" He was proud that his voice didn't shake.
Aaron went still.
He wasn't a man given to expressive gestures in any case. He was a self-contained man, his emotions almost entirely under his control, his thoughts shielded behind a wall of charcoal gray worsted. But Spencer had grown accustomed to the way Aaron breathed and how his shoulders felt when he was relaxed, so he noticed when Aaron stopped breathing and moving for a few seconds.
"Those were some of the worst moments of my life," Aaron said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. He didn't look away from the television. "Watching you on the screen...I'd never seen you look so...and I'd already gotten Elle shot, and then knowing that it was my fault Hankel--"
Spencer had heard enough. He pressed his hand against Aaron's lips. "No," he said firmly. "Randall Garner shot Elle, and Anderson didn't follow your instructions. And Hankel killed me because of Gideon's decision to have Garcia cut the feed." He tilted his head, studying Aaron's face. How was it possible that Spencer had finally come to view his own experiences from a distance, in an almost clinical light, while Aaron could still feel such horrible--and misplaced--guilt over everything?
He leaned in and kissed Aaron softly. "It was never your fault. I was clinging to the knowledge that you would understand what I said. I didn't give up because I knew you would be coming for me.". He gripped Aaron's shoulders and turned them both so they were facing each other. "Aaron, can you honestly think I would be with you right now if it were your fault? Do you believe I would have kept working for you? Can't you understand that my respect for you has never diminished?"
Aaron sucked in a breath and finally met his gaze.
Spencer pressed his lips together and gave Aaron a crooked smile. "Be logical," he said, shaking him gently. "I've never blamed you. I didn't blame Gideon and I didn't blame Garcia, and I've never blamed you." He stroked his fingertips against Aaron's cheekbone. "Maybe Elle blamed you once, but I bet she doesn't now. And anyway, I'm not Elle."
"Thank God," Aaron uttered, his voice thick but somehow surprised and almost amused.
"Yeah," Spencer said. He shook Aaron gently once more, just for good measure, then slid his arms around him and pulled him close. "I love you, Aaron. I loved you before Hankel, and I've loved you since Hankel."
Aaron's arms closed around him tightly. They held each other for a long time. After a while Aaron's breathing grew less ragged. "It was sort of like that," he murmured. "Except I didn't know any of the victims this time."
Spencer nodded and kissed Aaron's neck. "Then let's go to bed," he suggested. "I'll try to make you forget."
Aaron stood. "That sounds like a very good idea."
