Previous part of Zeroes and Ones.

***

It took a hell of a lot of planning to make it out of the office in time to meet Spencer’s plane, but somehow Derek managed to pull it off. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d met somebody at the airport – the last time one of his sister flew in to visit, he figured – and it felt a little weird, standing outside security waiting for Spencer to file through the exit with the rest of his flight.

He’d checked his messages at least a dozen times since he left the office, but he still pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked one more time to make sure he hadn’t missed a call from Spencer, or an alert from the airport telling him Spencer’s flight had been delayed.

There were no new messages, and Derek shoved the phone back in his pocket and looked back up at the corridor all the traffic from Spencer’s flight would be funneled through. When he caught sight of long hair and a pair of narrow shoulders, a wool coat that was way too big and that damn bag he’d know anywhere, Derek grinned. Then Spencer looked up and spotted him, hand going straight to his hair to tuck it behind his ear and Derek had seen him do it enough times to know it meant Spencer was nervous.

He knew the feeling, but he couldn’t put his finger on why, exactly. It was just Reid, and they’d known each other a long time, worked side by side and spent more time in each other’s company than most people spent with their families. He knew Spencer, maybe better than most people, and Spencer knew him. Sure, things had changed a little since Derek left the BAU, but that didn’t mean they had to be weird.

“Look at you,” Derek said when Spencer finally reached him. He reached out to grip the front of Spencer’s coat, straightening his lapels and grinning at the blush staining Spencer’s cheeks. “Looking all professorial. You better be careful or one of these colleges is going to try to steal you away from the FBI someday.”

“Actually, I’ve already turned down a few offers,” Spencer said, and Derek knew it shouldn’t surprise him, because Spencer was that rare kind of genius who could hold his own in a whole bunch of different areas. He couldn't see Spencer ever wanting to leave the BAU, but sometimes he wondered if Spencer wouldn't be better off if he did. He was a genius, sure, and his profiles were invaluable to the team. But he still took so much of what he saw to heart, and Derek worried about what it was going to do to him in the long run. He could go out the way Gideon did, just check out one day and disappear off the grid. The likeliest scenario was that he'd get himself killed stepping between some kid he thought was worth saving and a bunch of local uniforms with itchy trigger fingers.

Derek wasn't sure which would be worse. All he knew was that thinking about it made him want to drag Spencer forward into a tight hug, and if he started hovering the second Spencer got to town, Spencer would make up some excuse and book himself into the first hotel he could find. He settled for reaching out to take the carry-on gripped tightly in Spencer's hand, then sliding his arm around Spencer's shoulders and steering him toward the escalator.

"You got any more luggage to pick up?"

"Why would I need more luggage?" Spencer asked, frowning like it was a pretty stupid question. And it was, Derek knew, because it hadn't been so long ago that he'd kept his own ready bag in his bedroom closet, packed with just enough clothes to get them through a week in any given town. Any longer than that and the Bureau would foot the bill for hotel dry cleaning, so they'd learned to travel light a long time ago.

"Dumb question," Derek answered, grinning again and steering Spencer toward the door that would take them to the taxi stand.

Once they slid into the back of the cab and Derek gave the driver his address he settled back in the seat, turning slightly so he could look at Spencer. "You got anywhere to be tonight?"

"No," Spencer said, shaking his head and when a curtain of hair fell across his eyes he reached up to push it back. "I don't have to be on campus until tomorrow morning."

"Good. So we'll drop your stuff at my place and head to Rockefeller Center, get you in some skates."

He laughed at the face Spencer made and stopped himself from reaching over to touch. When they were on the same team touching always felt natural, whether it was a hand on Spencer's shoulder during a rough case or just tousling the kid's hair to rile him up. Sometimes it was the only way Derek had to communicate what he was thinking in front of a victim's family or an unfriendly local cop, and somehow Spencer always knew what he was thinking just from a touch on his shoulder or his arm.

Spencer never touched back, but it never mattered, because at the time it was just part of being teammates. It was about keeping the kid safe -- keeping him sane -- because Gideon was gone and nobody else was picking up the slack. Now that they weren't on the same team anymore, touching Spencer meant something different, and Derek wasn't sure either of them was ready to ask themselves what.

Derek managed to keep his hands to himself all the way back to his place, and when the cab pulled up in front of his house he distracted himself with paying the driver and carrying Spencer's bag inside.

"There's a lot left to do," Derek said as he led Spencer into the living room. "I haven't done much on this floor yet, but I'm planning to take out a couple of these walls, open the place up a little."

Spencer walked into the room and set his bag down on the couch, then he shook off his coat and draped it over the couch next to the bag. The coat was new; Derek didn't remember ever seeing it before, anyway, and he was pretty sure he'd remember something that managed to make Spencer look even more like a little kid than usual. It didn't help that the thing was way too big for him, and Derek pictured Spencer buying the first thing he saw on the rack without even bothering to check a mirror first.

He grinned at the image as he watched Spencer look around his place, bright eyes taking in the holes in the drywall and the spots where Derek had stripped paint away from original woodwork.

"How do you have time for all this?"

Derek shrugged and slid his own coat off. "Now that I'm not traveling so much I've got a little more time on my hands. Anyway, you can find the time if you want to. I always found the time in Virginia, too."

For a minute Spencer just stared at him, but before Derek could ask what was on his mind, Clooney came padding down the stairs. Derek glanced over at the dog, then back at Spencer. "Let me just let him out and feed him, then we can see about feeding ourselves. The guest room's upstairs, first door on the right, if you want to toss your bag in there."

He turned toward the kitchen and the back door, leaving Spencer standing in the middle of his living room. It was kind of strange, having Spencer in his place, stranger even than Garcia and all her energy filling up the room. He couldn't put his finger on why, exactly, but he figured he had a whole week to figure it out before Spencer went home again.

***

"So what's this conference you're presenting at about, anyway?"

They were sitting in a booth at the back of Derek's favorite Chinese place, sharing orders of Kung Pao Chicken and Sweet and Sour Pork. Spencer had already eaten more than his share of the eggrolls, but Derek wasn't about to call him on it. Truth was, he kind of liked watching Spencer eat. He liked watching Spencer enjoy himself, anyway, and he couldn't deny that they were pretty good eggrolls.

"Biosocial criminology," Spencer answered around a mouthful of pork. "I'm presenting a paper on behavioral genetics and serial killers."

"See, you find the time to write all those papers," Derek said, gesturing toward Spencer with his chopsticks, "but you don't get how I have the time to swing a hammer. Seems to me what you do takes a lot more focus."

Spencer shrugged and reached for the last eggroll, and when he glanced up Derek laughed and let him have it. "You can't really compare the two. I study serial killers for a living, and I can work on papers on the plane or in hotels. All my case studies come from the BAU's files. Renovating a house requires you to actually be there. What I don't understand is how you had the time to work on your house when you were working for the BAU."

"Houses," Derek said, and the only hint he got that Spencer was surprised by that news was a slight widening of his eyes. "Stress relief, kid. I bought old houses and fixed them up. Still collecting rent on a few properties down there. It pays the mortgage on my new place, anyway."

"So if you still own them, does that mean you're planning to come back?"

"Spencer, come on, man, you know Hotch wouldn't take me back even if I wanted to go," Derek answered, frowning at Spencer as he tried to work out whether or not he really expected Derek to come back like nothing had ever happened. "Parnell can't be all that bad."

"I know that." Spencer huffed out an impatient breath, fixing Derek with the look that meant sometimes he really was just as stupid as Spencer made him feel. "But you own property there; you have to visit sometimes, right?"

Derek shrugged and leaned back in the booth as he realized what Spencer was asking. He didn't know what it meant; it might not mean anything at all, but there was a part of him that wanted it to. "Well, my property manager takes care of the day-to-day stuff, but yeah, I'll probably make it down there every so often, put in an appearance."

"You could stay with me if you wanted," Spencer said, gaze fixed on his dinner like all of a sudden it was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen. It didn't do much to hide his blush, though, and Derek's heart did a weird little tap dance in his chest when Spencer ventured a glance up at him. "I could give you my key in case we're called away on a case."

He'd known for years that Spencer didn't have all that much practice in dealing with other people; he almost always managed to say the wrong thing, and even when he was trying he never could read other people's signals. So Derek wasn't really surprised that Spencer would skip ahead at least eight steps in whatever this thing was between them, but he wasn't going to point out that technically Spencer probably shouldn't hand over his key until they were sleeping together. Because as far as he knew, sex had never even entered the equation for Spencer. As far as Derek could tell, Spencer was here because he missed having someone around who made him feel safe, and he was trying to hold onto that connection. The last thing Derek was going to do was ruin what relationship they did have by asking for more than Spencer was ready to give.

Hell, Derek wasn't even sure he wanted to take things with Spencer in that direction, especially now that they had three hundred miles between them. Long-distance relationships were a pain in the ass and they never led to anything but heartache. Sure, there was J.J.'s thing with Will, which seemed to be working out okay, or at least it would if J.J. would stop being so uptight and just let the guy in. But they were having a kid together now, and chances were that motherhood would mellow her some. Derek hoped so, because they could all see how happy she was ever since New Orleans, and if anybody deserved to hang on to that, it was her.

Then again, he knew better than anyone what a rough road Spencer had been dealt in life. So maybe he deserved to be happy even more than J.J.; it would be a change from the twitchy, awkward genius routine, anyway, seeing Spencer relaxed and smiling for awhile. And Derek could help with the relaxed part, that much he was sure of. The part he didn't know if he could deliver was the 'happily ever after'.

He thought about telling Spencer that there was no way he'd ever hear the end of it if he showed his face in Virginia and didn't stay with Garcia. It was an easy excuse, one he knew Spencer would buy. It would wipe that shy, expectant look right off his face, though, and Derek could handle a lot of things, but disappointing Spencer Reid had never been one of them.

"I'll keep it in mind," he said, grinning to show he meant it, and when Spencer smiled back at him Derek figured it was worth a cold shower every now and then to keep Spencer in his life.

***

In the morning Derek walked Spencer to the subway that would take him to Columbia. When they reached the break in the stairs that would lead them to different platforms Derek gripped his elbow and steered him out of the crush of commuter traffic, looking him up and down one last time. It felt a little like the first morning of a new relationship, like nothing would be more natural than to lean forward and kiss Spencer goodbye.

But Derek knew better, so instead he straightened Spencer's jacket and laughed at Spencer's mop of hair. "You know, they're going to think you're some slacker grad student with that look you've got going on."

Spencer made a face at him and ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back behind his ears and shifting his bag a little further up on his shoulder. "Academics aren't really the suit and tie sort. I'm sure I'll be fine."

"I'm sure you will," Derek said, his smile fading a little as he watched Spencer fidget. Spencer was usually a little twitchy, but it seemed worse than usual today. "Listen, if you finish early, give me a call and I'll meet you."

He handed Spencer a subway map and a Metropass and ignored his protests about the university reimbursing him for travel, then sent him down the stairs to the platform. There was no good reason to hover like somebody's mom; Spencer was a grown man, and he'd been taking care of himself for a long time. That didn't mean he was all that good at it, though, and no matter how many times he insisted he didn't need to take cabs everywhere, Derek couldn't help worrying that he was going to get off at the wrong stop and end up lost somewhere in The Bronx.

Not that he was about to say any of that to Spencer. He'd already earned multiple glares just for suggesting that maybe Spencer would be more comfortable in a cab, and since the university was footing the bill, what did it really matter? That got him a lecture about the rising cost of college tuition in the United States, which somehow turned into a lesson on the Physics of the ripple effect, if Derek was following at all, though Spencer could have been talking about his Philosophy dissertation for all Derek knew.

He grinned at the memory of Spencer's rapid-fire monologue, hands waving around in front of him like every other nut job on the commuter train. It made him want to pin a note to the front of Spencer's coat with his name and phone number on it, just in case somebody got spooked and called the cops. Then again, Spencer didn't make a habit talking to himself when there was no one around to answer, at least as far as Derek knew, so the rest of the commuters would probably just catch the absent-minded professor vibe he was throwing off and assume he was headed to campus to break about two hundred undergrad hearts.

Derek figured that probably wasn't too far from the truth; Spencer would never notice, but Derek had seen girls look twice more than once, smiling like he was an especially cute puppy they wanted to take home. Hell, he'd seen guys give Spencer that same look, and he couldn't even blame any of them. So he was bound to leave a few disappointed coeds behind after his symposium, and Derek wasn't sure if it was sad or just really cute that Spencer would never even know.

When the train pulled into his station he let the crowd carry him out, filing up the stairs with the rest of the commuters and out onto the sidewalk. Lower Manhattan was pretty much a sea of suits and ties every morning, and Derek swallowed a sigh and thought of ugly wool coats and long hair as he stopped to pick up a cup of coffee on the way into the office.

Thinking about Spencer's hair was dangerous, though, because Derek was pretty sure he could imagine what it would feel like wrapped around his fingers. And Spencer might even let him, let Derek pull his head back and mouth his way along that pale neck, because Spencer trusted him. Which was the whole problem, Derek reminded himself. He scowled and pulled open the door to the Federal Building, taking off his gun and watch and tossing them on the belt before he flashed his I.D. at security.

Once he was through the metal detectors he headed for the bank of elevators that would take him to the 23rd floor. He nodded a good morning to the other federal employees who boarded the elevator with him, then he found a spot against the back wall and reached into his pocket for his phone. There was a message alert blinking at him, and he grinned and flipped his phone open.

Garcia says you live two blocks from the best pizza on the planet. I told her that was a subjective statement but she seemed adamant.

Guess we better not disappoint her then. Pizza and a movie sound good to you?

Derek flipped his phone shut as the elevator stopped at his floor. He stepped into the hallway and looked around, taking in the bustle of agents moving around in the office and bracing himself for a long day of directing traffic and fielding calls from Quantico. He was halfway to his office when his phone beeped again, but he waited until he'd picked up his messages and set his coffee down on his desk before he read it.

It's the only offer I've had so far, so I guess so.

Derek shook his head, trying and failing to fight what he was sure was a pretty stupid grin. He didn't really want any of his team to see him grinning at his cell phone like...well, like a teenager with a crush. But the fact was, he was almost sure Spencer was flirting with him.

Just let me know if you get a better offer, Pretty Boy. Plenty of coeds around, I bet they're batting their eyelashes already.

His phone beeped again almost immediately, and when Derek flipped it open and read Spencer's message his heart thudded to a stop and then started over again in double-time.

I hadn't noticed. See you tonight.

***

Derek considered taking Spencer out for pizza and beers, but when he found Spencer waiting for him on the subway platform, looking tired and a little lost inside his giant coat, he decided a night in was exactly what they both needed. He called the pizza place from the subway and placed an order to go, then they got off a stop early to pick up dinner. It was only a few blocks to his place from the pizza joint, but the wind was bitter and he knew if they didn't take a cab their dinner would be ice cold when they finally got back to his place. So Derek hailed a cab and ushered Spencer into the back seat, gave the driver his address and handed over the fare when they pulled up in front of his house.

Half an hour later they were halfway through a box of what Garcia alleged was the best pizza in the world, and Spencer was in the middle of some story about Hotch and some backwater female sheriff who'd taken a liking to him. He'd been blushing since he started describing the way she flirted with Hotch, and Derek had been grinning since he started to blush. Now he was watching Spencer's hands moving through the air while he talked, long fingers gesturing wildly when he described the way Hotch jumped whenever the sheriff crept up behind him.

And yeah, Derek wished he could have seen Hotch's face while he was being stalked by a very determined local sheriff, but there was a part of him that was glad he'd missed it, because it meant he got to watch Spencer while he relived it.

"Then J.J. said, 'I'm sure we could send the jet back for you if you want to stay a few extra days and wrap things up, Hotch'. You should have seen his face; I thought he was having a stroke."

"I wish I had seen it," Derek answered, grinning more at the image of Spencer trying not to laugh in Hotch's face than at the thought of Hotch trying to fend off unwanted advances.

Spencer's smile faded and he set his empty plate down on the coffee table. "You would have if you'd stayed."

It was the first time the subject had come up since Spencer arrived. They'd talked about his rental properties the night before, sure, and Spencer had hinted around about Derek coming back to visit. But this was the first time he'd brought up Derek leaving like he was still taking it personally. Like maybe instead of just leaving the BAU, Derek had left Spencer. Which was true, technically, but they both knew it wasn't like that between them when he left. It still wasn't like that, even if it was getting harder and harder to remember the more time he spent around Spencer.

"We've been over this, kid. If I want to move forward in my career, I have to take the opportunities when they come along. If I didn't take a promotion when they offered it, eventually they'd transfer me anyway, and it definitely wouldn't have been to head up a field office somewhere." He paused to watch Spencer worry his lip between his teeth, fingers tightening around his beer bottle to stop himself from reaching over and easing Spencer's lip free before he did any damage. "Sometimes I think they shouldn't let anybody stay in the BAU as long as they do."

"Why?" Spencer asked, forehead furrowed like he really didn't get where Derek was coming from.

"Come on, look how Gideon went out. Has anybody even heard from him?"

Spencer shrugged but didn't answer, which Derek knew from long practice was Spencer for I don't want to talk about Gideon. They couldn't have this conversation without talking about him, though, because Gideon was one of the ones who stayed way too long. And sure, he was gone for awhile, but he came back, because he'd been at it too long by then to do anything else. And now...now he was nowhere, in the wind and doing God only knew what. Drifting, Derek figured, but he'd heard enough whispering around the office to know some of the people in the building thought maybe he'd become one of the monsters he'd hunted for so long.

That part was bullshit and Derek knew it, but that didn't make the fact that people said it any better. The fact that some of them half-believed it, and they might even be quicker to believe it about Spencer.

"Elle, then," Derek said, because he had a point here, damn it, and Spencer was the one who brought it up in the first place. "Look how she went out. Nobody should get to that point, Spencer. You and I both know she made a choice she never would have made if she hadn't spent the years she did looking at nothing but garbage."

"Officially she didn't do anything wrong."

Derek rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair, lifting his beer to his mouth and watching Spencer over the top of the bottle while he drank. Spencer was sitting on the couch with his legs crossed, stupid corduroy pants making him look even more like some absent-minded professor than the giant winter coat he'd been wandering around in all day. And Derek knew he was a grown man, that he could take care of himself. He could feed himself, anyway, and he managed to clothe himself, even if he wasn't very good at it. But he didn't know when to say when, and he seemed to think Derek was some kind of coward for saying when he'd had enough and getting out before the job turned him into another statistic like Hotch or Gideon.

"Rossi hasn't snapped," Spencer said after awhile. He was looking right back at Derek, watching him lower his beer with that freaky stare he only busted out when he was trying to act like he wasn't nervous about something. Which meant he'd thought about this before, and even though he couldn't say why, knowing that made Derek feel a little better.

"Yeah, but he walked away for a long time. Wrote some books, recharged his mental health batteries or whatever. The point is, he got a little distance."

"Is that why you left? To get some distance?" Spencer asked, chin pushed out and Derek knew a challenge when he heard one. Knew Spencer wasn't going to buy the 'it's for my career' line again, even if it was partly true. Then he looked away, hair falling over his face and when he didn't push it back Derek knew Spencer was trying not to let Derek see him blush.

"From the stuff we had to see every day, yeah, maybe," he finally answered. He leaned forward again, resting his elbows on his knees and dipping his head to catch Spencer's eye. "Hey. From the job, Spencer. Not from you."

Spencer did look at him then, and the way he smiled made Derek's chest feel so tight he couldn't breathe. "There's not really any difference, is there?"

"Yeah, kid, there's a big difference."

For a minute Spencer just looked at him like Derek was some tricky piece of evidence he was trying to figure out. Or maybe he was just waiting for Derek to make some kind of move, to get out of his chair and slide onto the couch next to Spencer and show him just how close Derek wanted to be. It was tempting; part of Derek wanted to do exactly that, to find out once and for all if that was what Spencer was looking for. If he'd come all this way because he missed having someone in his corner, or if it had taken Derek leaving to make him realize what he'd really wanted all along.

There wasn't even that much space between them; all Derek had to do was stand up and take a couple steps and he'd be standing right in front of Spencer. He'd almost convinced himself to get up when Spencer blinked and looked away, and suddenly the space between them felt like a mile.

"So what movie did you want to watch?"

Derek shook his head and let Spencer change the subject, ignoring the disappointment that settled in his stomach. Maybe he'd missed his moment there, or maybe Spencer still wasn't sure what he wanted from Derek. Either way, Derek wasn't going to take something Spencer didn't want to give. He set his beer down on the coffee table and stood up, pasting a broad grin on his face as he crossed to the TV to pick out something to distract them from whatever they weren't saying.

***

Hotch hasn't gone off the deep end, and look at everything he's been through.

Derek frowned down at Spencer's text for a second before he answered. He'd been doing this all morning, sending Derek texts at random intervals, outlining arguments against Derek's insistence that working for the BAU too long was bound to take its toll on anybody. So far he'd tried using Emily as an example, which they both knew was bull, because she'd barely been there a year. Then he mentioned Garcia, which he probably thought was his trump card, but Derek had just rolled his eyes and texted back to point out that she didn't spend any time in the field, so she didn't count.

Now I know you're pulling my chain. We are talking about Aaron Hotchner, right? He barely sees his own kid. The job's taken its toll, Spencer, trust me.

A knock on his office door distracted him and Derek looked up, snapping his phone shut and dropping it on his desk. "Yeah."

Agent Sanchez stuck her head in his door, her mouth drawn down in a tense frown and a piece of paper clutched in one hand. "Boss, we've got a fresh tip. Sounds like they're getting ready to make a move."

Derek took the paper she was holding and scanned it. "Damn. Let's go."

He picked up his phone and shoved it in his pocket without checking for messages, then he headed out to the bullpen to pull his team together. His job these days was to stay behind, to coordinate from behind the scenes -- behind the safety of a desk and a title -- and let his agents put themselves on the line. But that had never been the way things worked in the BAU, and Derek still hadn't gotten the hang of delegating. He figured it would start to feel a little less weird after awhile, handing out assignments and reporting back to Quantico instead of holstering his gun and rushing into the action like he'd always done before. So far it mostly still felt like he was walking around in somebody else's shoes.

"Sanchez got a tip on a possible situation," he told his team once they were gathered in the bullpen. "If this lead is accurate, they're planning a city-wide assault on the traffic control system. One of the techs at the city found a hacker coming in through a back door into the city's system, and our guys are working on tracing it back to the source. At best we're looking at a city-wide traffic jam and a huge mess for the cops. At worst we're looking at a distraction to keep us occupied while something bigger goes down."

Derek paused and looked around the room. A couple of the agents who'd worked under Agent Joyner were gone now, transferred or, in one case, opted for early retirement. But most of his guys were here for all that, and a few of them were even here for 9/11. So they knew what he meant by 'something bigger', probably a lot better than he did, and he felt the tension in the room ratchet up a few notches as he started handing out assignments.

"Nobody says a word to the press," Derek warned as his team split up. "There's nothing to tell, and the last thing we need is a panic over nothing."

He watched his team disperse and headed back to his office to pick up the land line, dialing a number he'd learned by heart in his first week and leaving a message with his supervisor's secretary. When he was finished he reached into his pocket for his cell and flipped it open, frowning down at the text from Spencer for a second before he pressed a button to open it.

So what about you?

For a second Derek figured maybe he'd missed another message, and he scrolled back through his texts to make sure. But he hadn't missed anything, which meant Spencer was asking a question Derek wasn't sure he could answer. The truth was he'd been okay with staying at the BAU; he wasn't looking for an out when this job offer came up, anyway. But that job had a way of making them all too close, too dependent on each other even though they never said it. None of them ever asked for anything from their teammates -- except Garcia, and she still didn't count -- at least not with words, but ever since Gideon and then Elle, Derek had been giving more and more to Spencer without even realizing it. And he had it to give, so that wasn't the problem.

The problem was that sometimes it scared him, how easy it was to read what Spencer needed and just give it, and how easily Spencer took without ever questioning why Derek would offer in the first place.

None of that would fit into a text message, though, and anyway Derek didn't have time for this game, not today. He pressed reply and typed a quick response, frowning at the screen and hoping Spencer would just do what he said and ask questions later.

When you're done today get a cab and get them to drop you off at the Federal Building. Don't get on the subway, Spencer. I mean it.

He frowned and glanced out at the bullpen, wondering just how many of his team members had sent pretty much the same message to their families. How many of them had the luxury of telling the people they loved just to stay inside today where it was safe, because a cab wasn't going to keep Spencer safe if the traffic control system was hijacked. He sighed and ran a hand over the back of his neck, then he shoved his phone back in his pocket and headed out to the bullpen for a status report.

***

It was past six when Derek walked back into the office, bone-tired and nursing a pulled muscle in his calf from unlocking a door the hard way. He shouldn't have been out in the field in the first place, but his team was already spread pretty thin across the city when they got the call that the computer guys had locked down a location on the hacker. So Derek hadn't even hesitated before he holstered his gun and rushed out of the office with Sanchez and another agent in tow.

They got to the address first, an apartment in the kind of building where the neighbors wouldn't ask a lot of questions. Derek drew his gun and knocked hard on the door, shouted, "FBI" and "open up!" and when he didn't get an answer, he kicked the door in. Maybe it wasn't the way he should have handled it, but he was used to dealing with life or death situations, and he'd just gone with his instincts.

Which was probably going to get him in some hot water, he knew. Derek blew out a frustrated breath and headed for his office, stopping in the doorway and blinking a couple times when he realized it wasn't empty. Spencer was sitting in a chair opposite his desk, glasses on and his coat thrown across the chair next to him and reading the contents of a folder. He didn't even look up when Derek stopped in the doorway, which meant he was pretty engrossed in whatever it was he was reading.

Derek grinned and crossed the room, craning his neck to try to get a look in the folder before Spencer caught him. All he saw was the Columbia logo at the top of what looked like a letter, then the folder snapped shut and when Derek looked up, Spencer was frowning at him.

"Hey, Pretty Boy. Must be pretty interesting."

"It's nothing," Spencer lied, cheeks flushing as he leaned over to shove the folder in his bag. Then he straightened up and tucked his hair behind his ear, leaning back in his chair to watch Derek move behind his desk and check his messages. "Where were you?"

"In Queens, chasing ghosts." Derek sighed and looked over at Spencer. "We had a tip about a possible terrorist attack on the city's traffic control system. Turns out it was a group of dumb college kids with giant brains and zero common sense. They generated all this chatter on the network and hacked into the traffic control computers all for some art project, can you believe that? You'd think people in this city would know better."

"Art project?" Spencer repeated, frowning again and Derek smiled for the first time in hours.

"That's what they said. Could be the world's lamest cover story, I guess, but I have a hard time buying that anybody's that dumb. The one I talked to said they were trying to make some kind of statement by hacking into traffic control and resetting the lights into a specific pattern. Said they were planning to do it in the middle of the night when traffic was lightest so they wouldn't shut down the city during rush hour."

"Thoughtful."

Derek grinned at the hint of sarcasm in Spencer's voice. Anybody who didn't know him would think he was just being gullible, but Derek had been speaking Spencer long enough to hear his dry sense of humor leak into the single word. "Yeah, well, I don't think that's going to help much with the charges they're facing."

"So that's why you wanted me to come here? In case of a traffic jam?"

Derek shook his head and decided he didn't have any messages that couldn't wait until morning. He slid his coat back on and pulled open a drawer to grab his keys. "In case the traffic jam was just a diversion from something bigger. The subway's usually the first target on the list. Anyway, you didn't have a key to my place and I didn't want you freezing your ass off waiting for me to show up."

He waited while Spencer slid his coat back on and shouldered his bag, then Derek led him out of the office and toward the bank of elevators in the hall. They rode down to the street in silence, Derek leaning heavily against the elevator wall and Spencer standing next to him, close enough to let Derek feel his body heat and his ever-present nervous energy, but not quite close enough that they were touching. When the elevator dinged and the doors slid open Derek reached out and gripped Spencer's arm, guiding him out of the car even though he didn't need the assist.

Maybe it was Derek that needed it this time, he thought as they stepped outside, Derek's hand still on Spencer's bicep and Spencer looking over at him like he knew exactly why Derek was touching and he wasn't going to ask him to stop any time soon.

When Derek put up his hand to hail a cab Spencer didn't argue; he just let Derek open the door when a cab pulled up to the curb and ease him onto the back seat. Derek slid in after him, wincing as his pulled muscle reminded him of just how young he wasn't these days.

"What's the matter?" Spencer asked, frowning again but Derek ignored him and leaned forward to give the driver his address.

"Nothing," Derek answered when he leaned back, stretching out his leg as much as he could in the cramped seat. "Just pulled something when I was out in the field earlier. The dumb college students didn't want to let us in, so I had to persuade them."

He grinned as he said it, but Spencer didn't laugh and shake his head and complain about how they didn't have anyone to kick in doors for them at the BAU anymore. Instead he turned to look at Derek, the movement bringing him a little closer and it was a struggle not to reach out and touch again.

"I thought your cushy desk job was supposed to keep you from getting yourself injured."

"I'm fine, Spencer," he said, because he was. It was just a pulled muscle; nothing a little heat and some rest wouldn't fix. "Anyway, just because I'm in charge now doesn't mean I'm never going to get injured again. I can't expect my agents to take all the heat."

"Yes, you can. That's their job."

Spencer's voice went a little higher on the end of the sentence, and Derek frowned and wished they weren't in the back of a dark cab so he could look in those eyes and see what Spencer wasn't saying. Maybe he was just worried about Derek getting himself hurt, or maybe he was wondering just like Hotch if Derek could handle this job. Derek wondered that himself often enough, but somehow it bothered him a little more that Spencer would think it than it did coming from himself or even Hotch.

"You never complained when I was kicking in doors for the BAU."

They were crossing the Brooklyn Bridge, and Spencer looked away from him to stare out the window at the traffic rushing by and the water below them. It was dark already and the whole city was lit up, and Derek had always loved this view, but he liked it a little more when he was watching Spencer's profile while Spencer stared out at it.

"I never said anything because it was your job. That doesn't mean I didn't hate it."

***

When the cab pulled up in front of his place Derek paid the driver, then he followed Spencer up the stairs to his brownstone and unlocked the door. Spencer's last words were still hanging in the air between them: That doesn't mean I didn't hate it.

He knew they weren't just talking about kicking down doors anymore; he was pretty sure Spencer meant the same thing Garcia meant when she yelled at him about always ending up staring down the barrel of some psycho's gun or driving an ambulance with a live bomb in the back or somehow ending up staring death in the face. And Derek got it, because he'd had to stand by and watch Spencer do his share of stupid things in the name of the job. They'd both gotten hurt plenty of times, and the physical stuff was the least of it.

Derek let Clooney out the back door, following him into the yard and standing in the cold while Clooney sniffed around. When he was ready to go back in Derek followed him, and when he pulled the door shut and looked up Spencer was standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter. He looked too young and too thin and all those other things Derek had used as an excuse to keep his hands to himself over the years. Telling himself Spencer was just a kid had stopped working awhile ago, though, and by the time he finished feeding Clooney he still hadn't come up with a better one.

"You never answered my question."

Derek took a deep breath and leaned against the opposite counter, hands braced on the tile on either side of him and just watching Spencer watch him. He knew what question Spencer was talking about, remembered that last text that he never answered. Spencer wanted to know what the BAU had cost Derek, what made it so bad that he'd taken the first out he was offered. He knew he could fall back on the same argument he always used, that he'd taken this job because it was the right move for his career. On paper it even made sense, and nobody else would even question Derek's reasons for leaving.

But Spencer knew him better than most people, and he had to know how hard it was for Derek to sit behind a desk all day. He didn't miss the monsters they dealt with when he was with the BAU, didn't miss the bad dreams or the sinking feeling in his gut whenever a case ended badly. But he missed the action, missed knowing that no matter how dangerous things got, he was always going to be first in line to face it. Hell, he'd step in front of a bullet for a total stranger, so there wasn't anything he wouldn't do to keep Spencer safe.

"You're the genius, kid," he said, gripping the counter a little harder, "you really need me to tell you the answer?"

Spencer's arms were crossed over his chest, tight like he was trying to hold himself together. Derek had seen him do it a hundred times, but he didn't like being the reason Spencer was closing in on himself.

"It's obvious, isn't it? It's my fault; you were just trying to keep the team together, and I developed an...inappropriate crush." He said the words like he'd been practicing them, like maybe he'd had to ask someone for the right term to describe how he felt. His cheeks were flushed and he was looking down at the floor between them, but when he glanced up his expression told Derek everything he needed to know. "I assume that once you figured it out, you didn't want to have to let me down gently. It was easier to take the job offer and leave altogether."

"No," Derek said, shaking his head and pushing himself off the counter before he knew he was moving. He wasn't even sure it was true anymore; maybe he did leave because of Spencer, but not in the way Spencer meant, and he needed Spencer to know that.

Derek reached out and rested a hand on Spencer's shoulder, and when he didn't flinch away Derek let his hand move up to Spencer's neck, thumb tracing the sharp line of his jaw. He felt Spencer relax a little under his touch, felt his arms unfold and then Spencer's hand was on the front of his shirt, long fingers worrying at Derek's buttons. Derek smiled and slid his hand into Spencer's hair, tilting his head down and fitting their mouths together.

He wasn't sure how much experience Spencer had -- not much, that he was sure of -- but he made up for it with the way he gripped the front of Derek's shirt, the way he parted his lips and breathed against Derek and kissed him back like he was afraid it wasn't going to happen again. But it was going to happen again, again and again and again. Derek had always known that once he kissed Spencer he'd never be able to stop, not tonight and not for as long as Spencer would let him.

"I didn't know." Derek whispered the words against his cheek, punctuating each one with a soft brush of lips against his skin. "If I'd stayed I probably still wouldn't know. You think I could have let this happen while we were working together? And even if it did, Hotch would have found out and shipped me out of there faster than you could recite the statutes on fraternization, and I know how quick your recall is."

"Maybe not," Spencer said. His hands were moving on Derek's arms, just his fingertips tracing the lines of Derek's muscles, like maybe he wasn't sure he should be touching. "He might have fired me instead."

Derek laughed at that and pulled back to look at him. "Trust me, I'm at least twice as expendable as you. Muscle's easy to replace; a brain like yours only comes along once in a lifetime."

"You're not muscle." Spencer blushed and looked down at his hands where they were still tracing said muscles. "Well, you are muscular, but you're not just muscle. You're better with people than me, better at getting victims to trust you. You're better at reading body language and expressions, and you're a lot better at interrogation."

"Me and a whole bunch of other agents. Face it, kid, you're one of a kind. Hotch isn't going to let you get away that easily."

"It's not really his decision."

Derek wanted to ask what he meant by that, but Spencer was pressing forward and kissing him again, surer this time, like he'd picked up some self-confidence somewhere in the last five minutes. His hands gripped Derek's waist and Derek groaned and pressed as much of Spencer against himself as he could.

"You want to put the brakes on here, all you have to do is say the word," Derek said, but he was already dragging Spencer away from the counter and toward the hall.

"I want..." Spencer answered, gasping the words against Derek's mouth as he dove in for another kiss, "...I want you to stop calling me 'kid'."

Derek laughed into the kiss and dragged Spencer toward the stairs, pausing at the bottom to grin at him. "I can do that."

***

Hours later, lying in the dark listening to Spencer breathe, Derek wouldn't be able to remember how they'd gotten all the way to the third floor without hurting something. His pulled muscle ached a little more than it probably should, and he was pretty sure Spencer was going to have a bruise from checking his shoulder on the stair railing when he lost his balance while he was trying to get Derek out of his shirt. And Derek knew from experience that undressing on the move was usually a bad plan, but it turned out common sense went right out the window when Spencer was around.

From the first moment he kissed Spencer he knew all the rules were about to change. All Spencer had to do was look at him and say, "It's my fault", and Derek was gone.

The truth was he'd been gone for a long time before Spencer ever said anything. He'd denied it for a long time, told himself he was imagining their connection because they worked so closely together and Spencer didn't have anybody else to look out for him. When that stopped working he'd ignored it, thrown himself into renovation projects and a series of casual relationships that didn't do a thing for him but make him feel even more like he was missing something important. Then the job offer came along, and he might have said no if it hadn't been for Hotch telling him he couldn't handle it.

If he'd said no he'd probably still be ignoring how much he wanted Spencer, lying to himself every chance he got about why he worried so much when Spencer let a case get too far under his skin.

Derek pushed himself up on one elbow to look down at Spencer, reaching out to push blond hair away from his forehead. He'd been too skinny for as long as Derek had known him, so he wasn't surprised that Spencer hardly took up any space in his bed. He had one arm tucked under his pillow, the other one curled tight against his chest like even in his sleep he was afraid to reach out. Like he didn't know how to ask for what he wanted.

Derek was still watching when Spencer's eyelids fluttered, then he murmured in his sleep and shook his head against the pillow. He trailed his fingers along Spencer's cheek, not trying to wake him up, really, but they only had a few more nights together, and Derek wanted to touch as much as he could before he had to put Spencer back on a plane to Virginia.

His hand traveled down Spencer's neck, then along the shoulder he'd bruised just a couple hours ago. Derek grinned at the memory of Spencer's muffled 'ow' against his mouth, then his annoyed frown when Derek pulled back to make sure he was okay.

"It's fine," Spencer had said, then he'd gone right back to taking Derek's clothes off.

Once he got down to bare skin Spencer made a sound like he hadn't really expected Derek to let it go this far, and after that he stopped being shy about touching. His hands were everywhere, flexing against Derek's skin and tugging at the suit pants he was still wearing as Derek backed Spencer into his bedroom.

He half expected Spencer to get shy again once Derek got him out of his clothes, but either he was too turned on to be self-conscious, or he just didn't mind the way Derek looked at him. And he was looking, pressing Spencer back against his pillows and taking his time pulling his own pants off, eyes on Spencer the whole time. He watched the way Spencer's pale skin flushed under Derek's touch, the way he arched up into every kiss and the way his lips parted on a surprised gasp when Derek's mouth closed around him for the first time.

It wasn't the most adventurous sex he'd ever had, but it was Spencer, and it turned out that made all the difference. Spencer gasping his name and clutching at his shoulders, Spencer breathing against his mouth and wrapping those fingers of his around Derek's cock, eyes open to watch is hand move in time to the shallow thrusts of Derek's hips like he was memorizing the way they looked together. Maybe he was. Derek sure as hell knew he'd be spending his nights picturing Spencer all flushed and boneless until he found a way to see Spencer in person again.

And that was the problem; he couldn't let this happen while they were both with the BAU, but now...now he knew exactly what he'd been denying himself all this time. He knew and he'd worry about Spencer even more, about how he was coping with the stuff he saw every day and how he was coping with the fact that Derek was three hundred miles away where he couldn't put his hands on Spencer's shoulders until he felt the stress flow right out of him.

Derek's hand moved down Spencer's shoulder to his back, palm flat against warm skin and watching his hand rise and fall with every breath Spencer took. Maybe it was selfish, dragging Spencer into a complicated long-distance mess Derek couldn't do anything to fix. But he couldn't stand there and let Spencer blame himself for chasing Derek away, not when Spencer had been telling himself for months that Derek didn't feel the same way. He couldn't just stand by and let Spencer think he wasn't important to Derek; Spencer was maybe the most important person in Derek's life, and he wasn't even sure when that happened, but it had and he wasn't going to try to take it back.

Spencer stirred under his touch and lifted his head to blink at Derek over his shoulder. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," Derek said, pressing a kiss to Spencer's shoulder. "Just thinking about you."

"You're thinking really loud," Spencer said, and Derek's laugh caught in his throat when Spencer turned to face him. "Now you have to help me get back to sleep."

Derek grinned and leaned in to press a soft kiss to the corner of Spencer's mouth. "That's not a problem, Pretty Boy."

Spencer's arms slid around his neck and Derek turned until their mouths were fitted together, hand traveling down Spencer's side to slide under his thigh and hook Spencer's leg up over Derek's waist. He'd pictured those long legs hooked around his waist a hundred times, tried not to picture it a thousand more, and now that it was really happening Derek wasn't sure he'd ever get enough.

"There some reason you have to fly back on Saturday?" he asked, mouth moving along Spencer's jaw to nip at the soft skin under his chin.

"Mmm...the symposium ends on Friday," Spencer answered. His hands were on Derek's shoulders again, kneading the muscles at the back of his neck until Derek arched up into his touch. "That's what the secretary at the University booked."

"So you don't have big plans back in Virginia on Sunday?"

"No," Spencer said, but Derek could tell he wasn't really paying attention.

He pushed up on one elbow to look down at Spencer, taking a minute to admire the sharp lines of his face and the way his hair fell across his forehead.

"Good," he said, then he leaned in and kissed Spencer again. "Tomorrow you're changing your flight to Sunday. I want a whole day of you all to myself."

Spencer murmured something that sounded close enough to 'okay' to satisfy Derek, then he angled his hips and thrust up and Derek gave up on conversation and focused his attention on the warm body under his. He'd bought himself one more day with Spencer; it wasn't even close to enough, but it was more than he'd had a few minutes ago, so he'd take it.

***

They never did get around to dinner the night before, so Derek justified calling the office the next morning and telling them he was going to be late by reminding himself that he owed Spencer a decent meal. What he wanted to do was blow off work entirely and spend the whole day in bed with Spencer, cell phones off and land line ripped out of the damn wall if it came down to it, just so there would be no interruptions.

But they both knew that wasn't possible, so he settled for sitting across a table from Spencer in a crowded diner, grinning over his coffee cup while he watched Spencer wolf down pancakes and sausage. He wasn't sure how long he'd been watching when Spencer finally looked up from his breakfast, blushing and reaching for his coffee. "What?"

"What'd you mean last night, when you said it's not Hotch's decision?" Derek asked, and until he said the words he didn't even know he'd been thinking about it.

Spencer shrugged and swallowed the last of his coffee, glancing around for their waitress and frowning when he didn't spot her through the crowd. "I meant that he's my boss, not my father. And even if he were my father, I'm an adult. He can't make decisions for me."

For a few seconds Derek just stared at Spencer's profile, watching him search for their waitress, or maybe just the nearest employee with a coffee pot. When he finally spotted someone and flagged them down he held out his cup, sighing like he'd been waiting hours instead of just a couple minutes for a refill.

"Did you really just compare Hotch to your dad?"

"No," Spencer answered, still not looking at Derek because he was too busy stirring half a dozen sugar packets into his coffee. "I compared him to a father. I can't compare him to my father. I don't know my father."

Derek knew Spencer wasn't close to his dad, mostly because he never mentioned the guy. He'd asked once, after Spencer was sort of forced to introduce the team to his mother, mostly because he wondered if maybe Spencer's father had died like Derek's. But he'd just said that his father left when he was a kid and changed the subject, and Derek hadn't pushed it. It was none of his business, he told himself at the time, and anyway it was pretty obvious Spencer didn't want to talk about it.

This was the first time he'd ever brought up his father voluntarily, and Derek didn't know if it was because their relationship had changed so much in the past twelve hours or if he was just trying to make a point. "When's the last time you talked to your dad, anyway?"

"When he left me and my mother," Spencer answered, finally looking up to frown at Derek. "I thought we were talking about Hotch."

"Actually we were talking about you. You change your flight yet?"

"While you were walking the dog." Spencer lifted his coffee cup and drained half its contents, then he set it down and glanced over at Derek's plate. "Are you going to finish that?"

Derek looked down at the bacon abandoned on the side of his plate, reminding himself about saturated fats and the amount of work he put into staying in shape before he slid it across the table to Spencer.

"That's a hell of an appetite you've got all of a sudden," Derek said, catching himself just before he added a 'kid' onto the end of the sentence. "Since when do you even eat breakfast? I thought in your world the first meal of the day consisted of six cups of bad government-issue coffee."

"It's the increase in physical activity," Spencer answered, and the way he said it was matter of fact, but Derek watched his cheeks flush as he focused his attention on dragging a piece of bacon through the remains of maple syrup on his plate. "Plus, we skipped dinner."

"Yeah, well, you better eat a good lunch, then, because I intend to wear you out tonight," Derek said, just to watch him blush even harder. He watched Spencer's eyes go wide, grinning and taking another sip of coffee. "So when's your new flight?"

"Sunday afternoon. 3:25."

It was earlier than Derek hoped for, but he wasn't going to argue about it. Spencer was giving him a whole extra day when it would have been just as easy for him to make up some excuse and leave on Saturday morning. But he'd come here...well, Derek wasn't exactly sure why, especially after hearing Spencer say he thought he was the reason Derek left the BAU in the first place. He kept picturing the look on Spencer's face when he said it, that scared little kid expression that reminded Derek every time of just how young he was, even though Spencer wished he could forget.

"Did you really think I left the BAU because of you?"

Spencer shrugged and chewed on the last of Derek's breakfast, looking at him from under his curtain of hair and when Derek spotted a little maple syrup on his chin he reached across the table and wiped it away with his thumb. As soon as Derek made contact Spencer turned into him, eyes closed for a second and he couldn't tell if Spencer was just savoring the contact, or if he was trying to avoid looking at Derek when he answered.

"At first I did. But when you kept asking me to visit I thought I must be wrong. Then you sent that graphic novel back with Garcia, and I knew there was no way you'd do that by accident. Chicago's first serial killer? It was a little obvious."

Derek laughed at that, because yeah, he had a point. But he was a genius, and even if he didn't have much practical experience when it came to the interpersonal stuff, he knew how to read the things people did. "It was either that or the one about Jack the Ripper. Which I've got back at my place, by the way. You can take it home with you, read it on the plane."

"According to you, I might need to sleep on the plane to recuperate from the rest of the week."

And he never would have called it until he saw it with his own eyes, but it turned out Spencer Reid actually knew how to flirt. Sure, it was kind of awkward and maybe to most people it wouldn't even sound like flirting, but Derek knew Spencer better than most, and he knew what it meant when Spencer looked up at him from under those long lashes of his.

"Hey, if you'd rather play tourist, that could be arranged," Derek offered, grinning and dropping his voice until it was kind of husky. "We could run through some of Garcia's list if you want."

"Somehow carriage rides through Central Park and a visit to the Museum of Sex don't really seem like your style."

Spencer was still flirting, but he was blushing again too, and yeah, Garcia had been making fun of Derek's crush when she made that list. The thing she hadn't counted on was Spencer actually getting any of it and assuming that she was making fun of the way Spencer felt about him. Not that Spencer had spelled out how he felt, not in so many words, but Derek got the picture. He was there when Spencer kissed him the first time, after all, and he was there when Spencer tore their clothes off with a total lack of finesse and a hell of a lot of enthusiasm. He was there when Spencer rocked up against him, gasping and murmuring Derek's name into his shoulder, teeth grazing his skin when Spencer came in his hand for the first time.

He was there when Spencer slid an arm around his neck and kissed him slow, his other hand wrapped around Derek's and pressed against his chest like he wasn't planning on letting go. Derek's heart clenched hard in his chest and he reached across the table, fingers sliding across Spencer's knuckles before he pulled back to wrap his hands around his coffee mug.

"I think I can do better than that."

***

This time when he left Spencer on the subway platform, Derek did kiss him goodbye. He pulled Spencer out of the flow of traffic, lighter now that they'd missed the worst of the early morning commuters, then he straightened his coat and tucked Spencer's hair behind his ears and grinned at him. Only this time he didn't stop himself from leaning in to press a soft kiss to the corner of Spencer's mouth, and when Spencer turned into it Derek regretted all over again that he hadn't just called in sick.

But they both had responsibilities, so Derek settled for one more lingering kiss, then he pulled back and grinned at the sight of Spencer's flushed cheeks and his wide eyes. "Remember what I said, Pretty Boy. I've got plans for you later."

He left Spencer to stare after him and took the stairs to his own train two at a time, settling in the car and pulling out his phone to check his messages. He'd been ignoring e-mails from Garcia all week, mostly because he knew she was just trying to dig up whatever she could on Spencer's visit. He wasn't planning to tell her anything, especially not anything that would embarrass Spencer, but it seemed like she'd managed to find a way to do that without even trying.

Derek let out a sigh and opened her latest e-mail, then he typed a one sentence reply: You and I need to have words, Baby Girl.

He stared at the screen for a minute, trying to decide whether it sounded threatening enough to shake her up a little. Finally he pressed send and dropped the phone back in his pocket, then he settled in for the ride across the bridge to the Federal Building.

Before he even got to the office he knew what he was in for: a long, boring day of filling out reports and tying up loose ends over a case that amounted to them chasing their own tails for months. Granted, that was a lot better than cleaning up the mess from a legitimate terrorist threat, but Derek still wasn't looking forward to the paperwork. He wasn't looking forward to calling Quantico and letting the higher-ups know that the whole thing turned out to be a bunch of kids, either.

By the time he got to his office he had a stack of messages waiting for him, and he flipped through them long enough to decide which calls he needed to return and which could wait awhile. He checked his e-mail next, deleting the junk that nobody read and downloading a couple reports from the more eager members of his team. The newest message was from Garcia, and he grinned and shook his head when he opened it and read her reply.

Are the words going to be 'you were right, oh Mighty All-Knowing Goddess of mine, and I really do have a crush on a certain genius we all know and love'?

She wasn't far off the mark and she knew it, but that didn't mean Derek had to admit to anything. It didn't mean she had any business getting Spencer all worked up right before he got on a plane to visit Derek, either, especially when he was already confused about how Derek felt about him. And that was the thing; they hadn't really talked about how they felt, where they went from here or even if they wanted to try to keep things going long-distance.

Spencer had invited Derek to stay with him when he was in Virginia, so Derek figured he probably saw this as more than a one-time thing. He wasn't exactly the casual type, after all, and it was one of the reasons Derek had avoided getting involved with him for so long. But Spencer probably hadn't dealt with a long-distance relationship before, either, so he didn't really know what he was getting into.

It worried Derek more than it probably should, knowing what a mess they were letting themselves in for and not knowing if Spencer would be able to handle it. He knew firsthand how often Spencer traveled, how much time he spent on unfamiliar ground, focused on the worst parts of life and letting all that misery get under his skin. When he was on a case he wouldn't even have time to take Derek's calls, and when they did catch the bad guy and put the world right again, Derek wouldn't be there to put his hands on Spencer and make him forget how much bad there was in the world.

Sure, he was an adult, and Derek couldn't make his decisions for him any more than Hotch or some absentee father he never spoke to or talked about, but that didn't make it any easier to let Spencer get back on that plane on Sunday. If it was up to Derek...but it wasn't, and he knew it as well as anybody.

Derek blew out a frustrated breath and opened the first report in his inbox, eyes sliding across the words on the screen without really taking them in. He knew his job was important, that they did just as much to keep people safe in the long run as the BAU or any other department in the Bureau. But he hadn't really counted on the routine taking so much out of him, and now that he knew just why Spencer had wanted him to stay in Virginia, it was just a little harder to be stuck behind a desk pushing papers around.

His phone beeped and Derek glanced up at the sound of Spencer's ringtone, grinning and picking it up to read the text message on the screen.

Technically I'm done at 3:00 today, if you feel like playing hooky some more.

He wasn't sure he could get out of the office early; most nights he was there past 6:00, and the fact that he'd managed to get home on time most of the week was only because everybody in the office knew he had a friend in town. Still, he had made a promise to Spencer, and he intended to keep it. He hit 'reply', smiling to himself as he typed a message:

Take the train to my office when you're free and I'll see what I can do.

As soon as he hit send there was a knock on his door, and Derek dropped his phone and tried to wipe the smile off his face before he looked up. "Yeah."

"Just thought you should know, boss," Agent Barnes said, hovering near the door like he was scared to come too close. "There's some big time lawyer down at One Police Plaza right now, raising holy hell about the kids we arrested."

"What? Why?"

"Something about illegal search and seizure," Barnes said, his expression telling Derek that he'd drawn the short straw on this one. "You know how lawyers are. It's just talk. Somebody's probably got a rich daddy who's going to make a big stink to the press is all."

Derek let out a heavy sigh and closed his eyes for a second, then he nodded and looked up again. "You're probably right. I'll deal with it. Thanks."

He picked up his land line and dialed the number for their liaison in the police department, rubbing at his temples as he listened to the phone ring. He was pretty sure he could kiss any plans to get out of the office early goodbye, and yeah, Spencer would understand, but that didn't make him feel any better.

***