Author's Note: "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum would like to announce that we have opened signups for our first annual "Valentine's Fic Gift Exchange". Signups are thru January 31st and assignments will be made on February 1st for this one. Simply name the pairings you are willing to write, the pairing you would like to receive as a gift, one famous love song and three Valentine's Day prompts.

Finally, new Fortune Cookie prompts are available at the forum for those of us that need a kick start to our writing muses.

As ever, thank you for reading, reviewing, favoriting and alerting our stories. We truly appreciate each one of you. And because I haven't said it in a while, we (neither ilovetvalot or tonnie2001969) own Criminal Minds (though we really wish we did).

***For those of you that know my writing, I wanted to let you know that things may be sporadic for the next few days. The hubby departs for Afghanistan Thursday for a year-long deployment. Please bear with me as I find my new groove. I'm moving slowly, but I'm not down for the count.***

The Powerful Payoff of Patience

Dr. Spencer Reid was a patient man by nature. His upbringing, his intelligence, and his profession made patience a necessity, so he was extremely fortunate to possess such a virtue.

Most days.

But occasionally, there were moments, although usually few and far between, where the benefits of being a patient soul were definitely not what they were purported to be.

Today, he didn't feel patient. Not at all.

It was eight o'clock at night on Valentine's Day. He was in a healthy, committed relationship, and he wanted to go home and do what most couples in his situation were doing.

Which was to say, they were being romantic. In every way imaginable.

Of course, most individuals weren't involved with a workaholic partner intent on perfection. Gazing longingly toward Aaron Hotchner's closed office door once more, Reid willed it to open...willed his lover to appear, briefcase in hand, ready and willing to call this day done and move forward to the wonderful evening that could be awaiting them both.

But no such vision appeared.

"So much for the powers of mental persuasion," he muttered to himself, angrily reaching out to jab his finger against the button of his computer monitor, flicking it off. Reminding himself that Aaron's commitment to the job was one of the things he had found most attractive in the older man, Reid inhaled deeply.

He knew his lover was single minded. Whether preparing reports or making love, Aaron performed his tasks with a determination and dedication that usually Spencer found appealing.

Unfortunately after two weeks away on cases, interspersed with short nights filled with an active five year old, romance had flown out the proverbial window. And so had sex.

Tonight was supposed to be different. He'd found a willing babysitter in Penelope Garcia for Jack, and he'd cleared the romantic path of obstacles. Now, if he could only convince the man he loved to call it a night.

Two phone calls upstairs spaced fifteen minutes apart had both yielded the same response: Give me five more minutes, Spencer.

Damn it, he had champagne chilling in the refrigerator at home. The iPod deck was loaded with just the kind of soft romantic music Aaron preferred, blends of Nora Jones and Smoky Robinson. He had a perfect evening planned, complete with edible body cream that had been highly recommended by the website he had just stumbled across. And it was all being ruined.

Pushing away from his desk, Reid determinedly rose to his feet, resolved to drag Aaron out of his office by force if necessary. Patience, be damned. Rossi was right. Sometimes a guy just needed to act on his impulses, he thought, striding determinedly toward the stairs.

Entering Hotch's office without knocking, he slammed the door behind him, causing Aaron to jerk his gaze from the file on his desk.

"Five minutes has now officially evolved into a full hour," Reid announced, leaning against the closed door, his arms crossed over his chest.

Frowning, Hotch lifted his arm and glanced at his watch. "Really?" he muttered, his eyebrows furrowing as he realized that his younger lover was, indeed, accurate. Of course, it wasn't as if Reid could be any other way. If he said it had been an hour, it had definitely been sixty minutes and not one second more or less. "I'm sorry. I'll only be a few..."

"Aaron? Do you know what day this is?" Reid asked calmly, taking a slow step forward.

"The fourteenth, I think," Hotch replied absently, his pen moving against the form on his desk.

"The fourteenth of what month exactly, Aaron?" Reid continued patiently, his feet moving another few inches.

"February," Hotch answered distractedly, wondering why his lover was choosing to ask inane questions when...oh, hell! February 14th.

Valentine's Day.

Lifting horrified eyes to see Reid smiling affectionately at him, Hotch sighed and once again thanked God that Reid was an understanding man.

"I'm sorry, Spencer," he said softly. "I..."

"Forgot? I figured," the younger man shrugged, relaxing slightly as he noted that his partner did, in fact, look genuinely dismayed that he'd forgotten what was widely known as a day that celebrated love.

Walking across the office and around Aaron's desk, Spencer dropped his hands against Hotch's slumped, defeated shoulders. "It's okay, Aaron," he whispered, bending to brush a kiss against the nape of Aaron's neck.

"No, it's not. I said I wouldn't forget. I swore," he muttered, disgusted with himself. How could he have allowed this to happen? Didn't Spencer deserve better?

"Mmmm, I swore I wouldn't try to cook again, too. But you had to replace the microwave for the third time in a year just last week," Reid chuckled easily, nipping Hotch's ear. "Things happen."

"You're too good to me," Hotch replied, sighing as Reid's familiar hands slid around his neck. Shooting a look at the office door, he wondered...

"Don't worry. I locked it behind me, in case you're wondering," Reid murmured, following his lover's gaze.

"Is that so?" Hotch drawled, offering a slow smile as he spun in his chair, wrapping his arms around Spencer's lean waist. "Then maybe you can tell me how you want me to make tonight up to you," he suggested, his dark eyes twinkling as he spoke.

"H-here?" Reid whispered, a shiver of excitement running down his spine as he noted Aaron's eyes, glimmering with heated interest. "Really?" he whispered, unable to believe his normally careful, meticulous lover would be willing to toss the Bureau rules out the window...even for a few moments.

"The way I see it," Hotch replied slowly, his voice deep and dark, "I owe you here. And everybody has gone home, haven't they?"

"Y-yes." Reid shivered as Aaron trailed a finger over his cloth covered abdomen. "Even the janitor has already passed through the bullpen."

"Then, I'd say we're safe, wouldn't you?" Hotch asked rhetorically, loosening Spencer's belt as he spoke, his focused gaze never wavering from Spencer's. "So," he smiled, his white teeth gleaming in the twilight, "there's only really one question that I need you to answer."

"Uh huh," Spence exhaled roughly as Hotch's hand released him from his trousers, his own hips bucking against that welcome touch.

"What would you like for Valentine's Day, Dr. Reid?" Hotch grinned, his eyes shining with amusement as he wriggled his brows in a rare display of carefree humor. "A suck or a fuck?"

Smiling widely as he wrapped his arms around Hotch's broad shoulders, Reid whispered, shivering as he felt Aaron's warm breath against his most sensitive flesh, "Is both an option I have available to me?"

"With us, Spencer, both is the only option I want to consider," Hotch grinned before surrounding Reid's length with his lips.

And as Dr. Reid's eyes fluttered shut and amazing sensations flooded him, he had to acknowledge, that sometimes, patience outweighed persistence by a mile.

Finis

Author's Note 2 - My husband is in no way gay, but I still need to dedicate this to him.

For My Hero.