Criminal Minds Ch. 01

Pelaam© February 2009.

I had a request to write a story for these characters from Criminal Minds. It is not a programme that I have watched and the request was made anonymously, but I hope I have caught an essence of what was wanted and of the characters.

Chapter 01: Love Comforteth

"Somewhere there's someone who dreams of your smile." Unknown.

Spencer stared at his desk. In essence nothing had been drastically changed and yet the small difference that he could see had such potential it was almost like a tsunami flowing towards him. Taking a deep breath he walked towards the desk and perhaps his destiny. His slender fingers caressed the small crystal vase in which there was a single flower. A perfect yellow tulip stood proud and Spencer's fingers barely touched its petals as he devoured it with his eyes.

"Tulipa," he whispered. "In the language of flowers a yellow tulip means 'There's beauty in your smile.'"

Unconsciously the edges of young man's mouth turned upwards. He glanced around the room, but no one seemed to be paying any attention. He sat down, still smiling. He looked again at those co-workers in the room. It was possible, but extremely unlikely, that someone outside his team had left the flower. He gave careful consideration to the small group of people who were his friends and surrogate family.

He was quite certain that it had not come from Emily, JJ or Penelope. The women he worked with were more than comfortable, and confident, enough to simply approach him. This seemed both a successful way to intrigue him, engage his imagination. It would also safely gauge his reaction should his ...secret admirer...prove to be male. He assumed his benefactor would reveal something of themselves through the gift. He gave a shiver. He had never been wooed, courted or romanced. His life had been devoid of affection and love. It was difficult to let himself go, let himself trust enough.

Due to his life in academia he had never had a girlfriend or boyfriend. Spencer did not care about the packaging, although some of the packages around him were of exceptional quality and beauty, but what was beneath the surface was of great importance. The closest he had ever got in regards a sexual encounter was a curious hand, from an equally unwanted outsider, as they had kissed safely hidden from prying eyes. He had never been touched skin-on-skin or been seen naked in the eyes of a lover. He wondered if his lack of sexual experience would cause a problem. Then he looked at the flower and smiled again, his rapidly rising anxiety curtailed by the simple pleasure of the flower itself and the implied pleasure of the sender. He took a fortifying breath. If there were any he could trust his heart to, it was the people with whom he trusted his life.

"Love means to commit oneself without guarantee, to give oneself completely in the hope that our love will produce love in the loved person. Love is an act of faith, and whoever is of little faith is also of little love." Erich Fromm

****

"Love distils desire upon the eyes, love brings bewitching grace into the heart." Euripides

There had been no gift the following day, nor had there been any obvious change in any of the team, but Spencer had found himself smiling more often, remembering what the tulip had meant. He had thought about the other men of the team, wondering whether it really was one of them that sought to turn friendship into something deeper.

It was easy to associate someone with a name like Rossi as a romantic. However, Spencer did not think the flower was quite David's style. It was possible that Hotch would want to show an amorous disposition, but Spencer thought that their leader would be more inclined to have sent flowers to his home. That brought him to Derek. They were often compared as the brawn and brains of the team, as if they were opposites. However, opposites attracted and, more importantly, opposites could also be two sides of one coin.

He gasped with delight as he entered the office and saw the latest offering.

"Theaceae and dianthus caryophyllus," he murmured, taking in the sight of the white camellia and red carnation. "'You're adorable', 'My heart aches for you'". He whispered the flowers' meanings as he lifted them. This time they had been tied with a strand of red silk and a small card caught his eye. "'Thou art to me a delicious torment', Ralph Waldo Emerson." He automatically murmured the source of the quote, printed in perfect copperplate, as he removed the card slipping it into his pocket.

He added the flowers to the tulip in the vase and smiled at the growing bouquet. His mind, as well as his heart, was both engaged and intrigued. His unknown admirer was going to a lot of trouble to declare their feelings in a way that was safe and non-threatening. Spencer sighed as his fingers tenderly caressed the delicate petals. He hoped he would soon receive a more tangible hint of the identity of his wooer. The thought sent a fluttering of apprehension as well as anticipation through his slender frame and he abstractly carded his fingers through his hair. He was not going to let fear destroy what could be the best thing ever to happen to him.

"There is only one happiness in life, to love and be loved." George Sand.

****

"If I know what love is, it is because of you." Herman Hesse

Spencer lay naked on his bed and eyed the unopened tube of lubricant. He had blushed scarlet when purchasing it, especially when an inner voice, that would not be denied, demanded he bought a flavoured one. Rose. The thought made him smile despite the embarrassment that still coursed through his veins.

He had spent some time alone with Hotch during the day as the team worked on their latest case. He pushed the bad thoughts away, thinking instead of the solid male. He was not sure he had truly flirted, although he had tried to make more eye contact than usual and smiled more. Hotch had seemed appreciative of his behaviour, but had still remained the same Hotch. Spencer was now 99% certain their leader could be eliminated. That left David and Derek.

He put the tube away, not wanting to even experiment. He was a virgin and would remain so. It was perhaps the only gift he could offer to a lover. He closed his eyes and let a hand drift over his lithe form. There were hidden muscles beneath the surface, despite his slim build. There had to be. He could be called upon to perform demanding physical activity just the same as any of the others. He let his thumb rub back and forth over one cinnamon nub and then the other. His other hand slid to meander languidly through his modest nest of fur at the base of his erect penis.

He circled the hard flesh loosely, pumping gently, not wanting to come too quickly. The faces of David and Derek flitted through his mind. He began to imagine his hands were the hands of his admirer. He spread his long legs wider, as if inviting a phantom lover to kneel between them. He whimpered softly as he tightened his grip, one hand now cupping his sac, sliding the orbs within together and apart. The hand twisted as it reached the engorged head, encouraging more pre-come and the fluid helping the hand slide easily back down to the base. He imagined words of love spoken, kisses bestowed and the hand on his shaft began to move faster, demanding he reach his zenith.

A finger rubbed along his perineum and his breathing came in hot, moist gasps, meaningless words spilling from his lips as his head began to thrash. The finger moved back and forth, teasing, tantalising but no more. He groaned as heat suffused his body and his groin tightened with imminent release. His hips thrust upwards into the tunnel of the hand working him, the finger pressed against his hidden opening and with a cry he came. His semen streaked across his skin, decorating his stomach and chest. He slowly regained higher reasoning and his eyes flew open as he remembered the name he had called at the moment of his orgasm.

Derek.

"Sometimes the heart sees what is invisible to the eye." H. Jackson Brown Jr.

****

"Love is a spirit of all compact of fire." William Shakespeare.

They had not made progress in the ongoing case, but Spencer's heart lifted a little as he saw another gift awaiting him. Three flowers bound with red silk lay on his desk. It was as though his admirer was now struggling to remain anonymous. A red camellia, pink camellia and red primrose silently declared the heart of the secret benefactor.

"'You're a flame in my heart', 'Longing for you', 'I can't live without you'.'" Spencer almost moaned the last of the meanings. He wanted to crush the flowers to his chest, but more, he wanted to be crushed to the chest of the man he hoped and prayed was their sender. His eyes devoured the words inscribed on the card. "'Love sought is good, but given unsought is better', Shakespeare." Spencer added the source of the quote as he spoke it aloud. He carefully arranged the flowers in the vase. The tulip was now a few days old and he had put soda in the water, as the girls had urged, but it was still starting to fade.

"Hey, pretty boy, nice arrangement."

The voice made him spin round quickly and Spencer felt a wave of dizziness, then strong arms were encircling him, holding him safely against a solid, warm body.

"Eat, Spencer," Derek husked. "You'll be no good to anyone if you keel over because you forgot to eat."

"I will," Spencer whispered and forced himself to look into liquid-mocha eyes, so similar to his own. What he saw there almost took his breath away; longing, hope, love. He angled his head, his lips parting, silently inviting the older man to take them in the kiss those mesmerising eyes promised.

"Heads up guys, we have a lead."

Hotch's voice broke the spell of the amatory haze in which both men had been enveloped. Spencer found himself reluctantly released from the sanctuary of Derek's arms. He smiled as Derek looked proudly at the flower arrangement.

"They're very beautiful," he murmured, ducking his head shyly.

"Then they have the perfect owner," Derek whispered, tilting Spencer's head up with one finger.

Spencer's eyes followed the rapidly retreating figure as Derek obeyed Hotch's orders. He started as David came up alongside him.

"About time, too."

Spencer blinked at the older man.

"Behavioural Analysis Unit, remember?" David's voice held a laughing quality and he smiled fondly at the bemused look at his youngest BAU team member. "We thought we'd need to bump your heads together to get you two to see what we've watched growing for months. Just keep it discreet in the office and don't let it interfere with the job," he added, wagging a finger like a schoolteacher.

Fear and anxiety lifted from Spencer's slim shoulders. He had not been sure how he could have managed to deal with a secret love affair. Now he did not have to. He cringed, blushing as his stomach protested its lack of food.

"Go and eat," David commanded softly. "Then let's track this beast down."

Spencer nodded. He did not need an added incentive to try and stop the unsub striking again. However, he would prefer his love for Derek to be consummated without the case hanging over them.

"To be your friend was all I ever wanted; to be your lover was all I ever dreamed." Unknown.

****

"The rose speaks of love silently, in a language known only to the heart." Unknown.

The day had gone from bad to worse. The third woman taken had now been killed after being sexually violated. Spencer rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes. The women were innocent, pretty, slender and brunette. They had not deserved to meet such deaths. His steps were weary as he returned to the office, another lead ironically only leading to a dead end. He had not seen Derek since that morning. The older man and Emily were working on a lead of their own following on from Hotch's development. He prayed they would find the key to the unlocking the case.

He felt tears prick at his eyes as he saw the gifts on his desk and he now understood how Derek had ensured they had always reached him even when the older man had not been around. David smiled, squeezing his shoulder as he headed out of the room and Spencer turned his attention to the flowers; one arbutus bloom and three red roses.

"'Thee only do I love, I love you, I love you I love you'. I love you, too, Derek," he whispered, giving the flowers a voice. "Come back safe." He added the almost silent plea as he filled his vase. He then powered up his computer and applied himself to the case. He wanted this man stopped before a fourth could fall victim.

"As we grow older together, as we continue to change with age, there is one thing that will never change...I will always keep falling in love with you." Karen Clodfelder.

****

"In my wildest dreams, you always play the hero. In my darkest hour of night, you rescue me, you save my life." Bliss and Cerney.

Spencer sat huddled against the wall of the pit in which he had been locked. He had been attacked and chloroformed in his own home and brought to his 'Master's' dungeon. The hooded man had only referred to himself as 'Master'. Fear prickled through his body as he remembered every word the deranged killer had said. The women were mere bait to lure his team into trying to find him. He wanted to pit his superior intellect against theirs, to take one of theirs; specifically Spencer Reid. Beauty and innocence that he had told Spencer he would despoil. Spencer did not think he would be killed any time soon. His captor seemed inordinately pleased and fascinated by his prey and had intimated theirs would be a long and intimate relationship.

His skin crawled as he remembered what had happened next. His clothes cut away as he stood, his arms chained above his head and his ankles manacled to the floor, legs spread wide. Once naked his kidnapper had slowly rubbed oil into his skin, paying a great deal of attention to Spencer's nipples, not satisfied until he had forced a soft cry of pain from the younger man. Spencer was relieved that a mix of anger, fear and revulsion had kept his sex quiescent during his oiling. He had then been tied.

The killer had indeed been a master of this art. He had dressed Spencer in a pair of white briefs to denote his purity and then shown him the white rope he would use. It wrapped like a collar around Spencer's throat. From there it tied tightly above and below his chest and diagonally bisected it, making his bruised breasts stand out. It criss-crossed down each arm and pinned them behind his back. It was wrapped around his upper arms, forcing his chest out even more and tied his wrists together. His genital area remained untouched, but the rope was looped around his slender waist and then adopted the same pattern down each leg as it had his arms. The tension was so tight that there would be rope-lines marring his body once it was removed. The final indignity was a bridal gag that was buckled tightly behind his head, causing it to dig painfully into the corners of his mouth.

He fought back the occasional waves of panic that his helplessness engendered. He knew it was part of the maniac's psychological warfare. Once tied, he had been carried like a child and shown his 'Master's' dungeon. He pushed from his mind what he had seen there. The pit in which he was incarcerated was in the room and, he estimated, around seven feet deep and closed with a heavy metal grill. Even if, by some miracle, he could have freed himself from the rope, he could not open the grill.

His mind wandered back to Derek and the love he had seen in the older man's eyes. He wished they had said something the last time they had been together and prayed the opportunity would represent itself. This time he would not hide, he would let Derek know exactly how he felt. He knew that all the considerable expertise of his team would come to bear to rescue him. He closed his eyes against the darkness. Derek would come for him. He would.

Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage." Lao Tzu.

****

"In dreams and in love there are no impossibilities." Janos Arnay.

Spencer blinked, his eyes watering, as light suddenly flooded his cell as well as the room it was in. He struggled to his feet, refusing to let his abductor see him looking vulnerable. Then he began to keen loudly as the sound of voices reached his ears.

"I swear, Hotch, if he's hurt Spencer I'll empty my gun into his worthless carcass."

"Spencer will be fine," Hotch replied, adding in his mind; "He has to be.' "Look at this room. He's made it a dungeon," the bigger man added, his voice coloured with disgust. He then frowned at Derek there was a sound they could both hear.

"There's a metal grill in the floor," Derek said, pointing. He strode over to it, Hotch a mere step behind. He gave a groan of relief, mixed with fury and anguish, as they saw Spenser's pale face and tied body. "Help me, Hotch," he begged.

The second the grill was opened, Derek was dropping into the pit shouting for Hotch to find the ladder. He pulled the now softly keening brunette to his chest.

"My beautiful boy, what's he done to you? Did he hurt you, pretty baby? Hotch I need a knife or something to cut this off him," Derek shouted upwards before he carefully unfastened the bridle gag. He tried not to wince at the cracked and reddened skin at the corners of Spencer's beautiful mouth. Tenderly he covered the dry lips with his own, feeling the slender body press closer, seeking warmth and solace.

It took just seconds for Hotch to join the couple, wielding a large, serrated knife. He shook his head as Derek glanced at him.

"I can do it, you just hold him," the big male growled. Careful to avoid catching Spencer's skin due to the rope's tension, Hotch sliced at the bindings restraining his team's youngest member. His frown deepened as he saw the red lines marring pale skin as the rope fell away. "There's a ladder," Hotch told Derek as the last of the restraints were cut. "You need a hand?" He was almost certain of the response but needed to ask the question.

"I'll manage," Derek husked. "Ok, pretty boy, let's get you out of here, love." He lifted Spencer in a fireman's hold, the slight form no real test of his strength, although at that moment Derek was certain he would have been able to carry Spencer from the pit even of the younger man had weighed twice as much. Once in the dungeon, Derek held Spencer tightly to his chest. The older man was reluctant to let the shivering man be taken outside wearing nothing more than the white briefs.

Hotch looked around the dungeon for something to cover the slight, trembling form. He gave a grimace of disgust at the sight of the large bed, adorned with straps and chains and decked with black silk. It was the best they could do. Yanking off the sheet, Hotch helped Derek wrap it around Spencer.

"Take me home, Derek, please?" Spencer husked. He was not hurt, he just needed the older man and to be away from his prison. He leant against the stronger man as if he could assume some of that strength by osmosis. He did not want to fall apart now he was so close to the man he loved.

"We need to get you checked..." Hotch began. He could see from the way Derek was nuzzling at the brunette that the dark man would be unable to refuse him.

"He didn't hurt me," Spencer insisted. He wanted to keep his face buried in Derek's shoulder, where he could smell the distinctive cologne and the older man's natural male scent. However, Spencer forced himself to look up just as David arrived to stand beside Hotch. "He limited himself to psychological assault," he continued. It was a small lie, but he knew a hospital could not care for the pain inflicted on him. "I just want to go home and feel safe and secure. Please."