She sat there for awhile after Doyle left, unable to fully grasp what he had said. Her eyes stayed trained on the coffee cup in her hand, and she couldn't look away. How did he know what her team was doing right now? Trying to keep her emotions in check, just in case she was under surveillance. It hurt her somewhere in her heart, that none of them invited her when they got together. Since J.J. left, she had actually felt herself growing apart from the only people she ever really loved.

That wasn't totally true, though. Not all of them had forgotten about her. Reid had tried multiple times to include her in his plans, and she had rejected him every time. Frustrated with herself as well as her current predicament, she clenched her teeth tightly. She couldn't understand why she'd turned him down, exactly. She liked Reid, she couldn't deny it anymore. He was interesting and... everything she needed. He was real, sweet, innocent, and handsome.

Doyle was going to ruin her life as she knew it, and the sooner she accepted that, the easier it would be to handle when the time came. Time wasn't on her side anymore, and she didn't want to miss a chance to spend time with the one person who could be what she needed; what she wanted. She knew Reid well, and she knew it had taken everything in him to ask her out. She also knew it stung when she'd said no, and she knew he deserved at the very least a better explanation.

Determined and overwhelmed, she got up and headed for her car; tossing her cold coffee in the nearest trash can.

Spencer gently ran his fingers over the keyboard. He sat in the middle of his living room, cross legged, on the floor in front of his coffee table. In his haste to set up his newest toy, he'd thrown the piles of books and papers all over the room. He experimentally pressed each of the keys, committing each different sound to memory. Sammy had not only changed his whole perspective on life in one day, but he'd inspired him to try to take up a new hobby.

Since he was a boy, he'd never had a healthy out lit for his emotions. He tried everything from screaming, to self-harm, to writing, everything,yet nothing seemed to work. Sitting on that piano bench with a boy who understood what it was like to be him opened his eyes to other possibilities. Lately, he'd been trying to change himself for the better. He'd taken Morgan's advice and cut his hair. He listened to Garcia and tried to change up his wardrobe, while Rossi and Hotch had kindly suggested that he pay closer attention during social situations and try to talk a little less. He'd put it all together and tested his new lifestyle by asking Emily to hang out with him.

As he expected, she said no; claiming that she needed to spend time with her new cat. Profiler Reid knew that there was a much deeper issue that Emily was dealing with, but insecure Reid couldn't help but think that no one ever told Derek that they didn't want to go out with him because they were going to hang out with a cat. He let his fingers drift over the keys in the same fashion that Sammy had taught him earlier, smiling slightly when the melody sounded just as beautiful.

The soft knock on the door startled him out of his concentration and his eyes briefly flickered to his gun that rested on his counter. Deciding against his paranoia, he slowly approached the front door. He'd only ever had three people knock on his door looking for him, usually he'd answer the door for someone who had the wrong apartment. Apparently, his neighbor had many female friends that couldn't read the numbers on the doors. His stomach fluttered when he looked through the peephole, and he quickly slid the chain out of place and opened the front door. "Prentiss?"

Emily looked up at him, her eyes red; and he knew she had been crying. He looked over his shoulder uncomfortably, then suddenly remembered his manners. "Do you want to come in?" He offered, stepping aside to let her in before he shut and locked the door. He quickly moved past her clear a place for her to sit. "I'm sorry, I'm not usually such a mess. I just never have visitors here and I wasn't expecting anyone," he said unsteadily, hurrying to throw the mess in his arms on his bed.

It dawned on her that she never imagined what Reid's apartment looked like, yet nothing about it was surprising. The living room was small and bare aside from the two person couch, a coffee table, and two desks. Books, unsurprisingly, covered every flat surface; their spines creased from the many times he read them. She smiled at the keyboard that he'd set up on the coffee table, excited to hear him play in the future. She took note on the fact that there was no television and only two photographs. One picture was of him and his mother when he was a young boy, and the other was the team. She remembered the day they had asked one of the janitors to take the picture. Garcia brought in her camera, insisting that she needed more pictures to brighten up her mini computer lab. They had taken dozens of pictures, all of which Reid refused to be in, despite their begging. Hotch silenced their pleas with a look that said, 'You know how self-conscious he is.' They finally got him to agree to one picture, a shot of the whole team. Morgan had his arms around Garcia and J.J. while Hotch and Rossi stood, arms crossed, in the back. Reid stood awkwardly beside her, oblivious to the pair of bunny ears he had on the back of his head. She was surprised to see a copy of it here, she didn't even know he asked Garcia for one. Suddenly feeling like she was snooping too much, she sat down on the couch; resting her face in her hands.

He returned moments latter to find Emily seated on his couch, her face in her hands. Slowly, he took the seat next to her on the couch. taking extra care not to sit to close. He sat quietly, his eyes focused on the keyboard a few feet in front of him. His fingers twitched, wanting to play the soothing melody again.

She knew he silence was eating at his nerves, and she did her best to formulate what she wanted to say. "Spencer, I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry I haven't gone out with you. I don't want you to think that it is because of you. I just feel like my whole world is caving in right now, and I don't want to bring you down with me." In reality, she wanted to tell him the truth, but that was as close to the truth as she could get, and she just hoped that Reid would believe her. The use of his first name surprised him, since everyone on the team called him Reid and he didn't really talk to anyone else. He often forgot that people actually knew his first name. He'd never seen Emily show much emotion, and truthfully he never thought she'd have that feeling that he knew oh so well. He wasn't sure if he could help her, as much as he wanted to.

He didn't look up at her, but he did his best to consider if she was being completely honest. He wanted to believe her, and it almost sealed the deal when her hand slowly reached out and took his. His eyes focused on their hands for a moment before finally being able to meet her eyes. "I understand, I know what that feeling is like," was the best he could come up with.

Emily was surprised by how warm and soft his hands were, but she was even more surprised by how easily his long, graceful fingers fit between hers. "I know it hurt you, and I'm sorry. I want to spend time with you, Spencer. Why else would I have come here?"

He looked at from from the corner of his eye, "I actually don't know why your here." As soon as he said it, he knew by the look on her face that he'd put his foot in his mouth, as usual. "I didn't mean it like that, Emily, I swear. I meant that I never really have anyone come over, especially without it being premeditated plans. Gideon is the only person who ever just came over to spend time with me, Morgan came a few times after Georgia, but that was it. Hotch and Rossi are always looking out for you, I just figured you'd go to them first. I'm sure they're much better company and much more capable of being a friend. Actually, I-"

She cut him off, "I know what you mean, Spencer. It's okay." He shut up, looking back at the piano again. Prentiss did her best to change the subject and make the fact that their hands were still locked together slightly less awkward. "Sammy really got to you, huh?" She said, taking note of how his hand squeezed a little tighter.

"I connected with him, I understood him. I know exactly how it feels to be yourself and then that is just never good enough." His eyebrows pulled together in an emotion that she couldn't exactly identify, but his words did pull at her heart.

"I told you the other day that I love you because you're you. You related to him, and that's okay," she reassured him, letting her thumb gently graze his knuckles. He swallowed hard, ducking his head again, and Emily felt more tears threaten to fall again. She wasn't sure when she'd let her emotions get the best of her, but now they kept swallowing her up.

"You, uh, love me?" he said cautiously, and Emily carefully reached for his chin and turned his face to her.

"You're smart, handsome, charming, and funny, what's not to love?" She managed to smile, which became more genuine when she saw the faint blush warm Reid's narrow cheeks. She held onto his face and hand, even as he nervous eyes flickered over to the keyboard again. She wasn't going to let him run from her this time.

"Did you know-" she silenced him by pressing her lips, soft but firm, against his. He flinched, frozen for a moment before he responded tentatively. His tongue slowly peeked out to taste her bottom lip, and she let him in, tilting her head to deepen the kiss further. He tasted like coffee mixed with mint and sugar, which she decided right then and there was her new favorite flavor. Slowly, she let her hands move to tangle in his hair, which was as soft as she'd imagined.

That must have scared him slightly, because he quickly broke away. "This is extremely inappropriate, the B.A.U. has so many rules against this," he gushed, catching his breath. She leaned in again but he stubbornly turned his head, and she countered him by locking both of her hands in his uncontrollable hair. He kissed her back wholeheartedly, and she instinctively gripped his hair tighter when he deepened the kiss.
He made a noise the back of his throat that vibrated her lips, and he took an unsteady breath through his nose before he turned his head away to get more air. She took the opportunity to plant careful kisses on his neck that always looked so tempting.

He inhaled sharply, one of his hands finding her waist. When they finally leaned back to look at each other, she was pleasantly surprised with the hunger she found in his big brown eyes. Spencer had these big, innocent eyes that displayed every emotion he had, but right now there was nothing innocent about them. They were dark and needy, and she knew she'd never look at him the same way again. The thought of what Garcia and Morgan would say if they knew about this crossed her mind, but she chased it away. They could never know, or Reid may never trust her again.

Despite how dark his eyes had become, Spencer looked away self-consciously. She stroked a hand down his cheek, committing how soft his skin was to memory. "The piano is the perfect instrument for you," she said, randomly feeling the urge to encourage his new found interest.

That made him smile, "I'll play for you one day when I learn how to play."

She laughed, casually taking his hand in hers again, "One day? You mean tomorrow? After you've mastered it?" He rolled his eyes, and she felt like her heart weighed as much as a feather. "I don't want you to just play it for me, I want you to write me my own song."

He studied her for a moment, "Okay, when I get good and learn how to compose a piece," he promised. Just then, her phone vibrated and she took it out to check the text message. 'Nice to see you went to visit Dr. Reid after all. I knew you couldn't stay away from him.' Her heart dropped to her stomach and she stood up quickly. Reid jumped at the sudden urgency in her movements and looked up at her, confused.

"Emily?" he questioned warily, "Are you alright?" She backed away from him, wishing more then anything that she could kiss that hurt look off his face and make him smile again. She knew she had to do the right thing though, and being here wasn't it. He wasn't safe with her around, and she couldn't let him become a target next.

"Spencer, I have to go. I'm sorry." He followed her to the door, grabbing her hand.

"Emily, what is going on? Please, let me help you." The desperation and determination in his voice almost made her give in. "Please Emily, I'm here for you. I'll always do my best to protect you." She looked into his eyes again only to find them full of innocence and confusion; all traces of the forbidden emotions from before gone. She knew he meant every word he said, and she wanted to reply 'I know that, Spencer. I'll always do my best to protect you too, and this is my only way of doing that.' Instead, she stepped forward to press a kiss to his forehead.

"I'm sorry, Spencer,' was all she could manage to say without breaking down. Then she slid the chain out of place and hurried down the stairs and out to her car, swiping at the silent tears that spilled over.

Spencer quickly locked the door and hurried back over to his keyboard. His fingers jabbed at the keys, producing a much more harsh and quickened version of the gentle melody Sammy had taught him. The uneven, angry notes filled the room; seeming to circle in the air and come back to wrap around his throat. Each jab at the keys sent another bolt of pain into his head as his headache, that had just stopped scaring him, jabbed at the back of his skull. He couldn't bring himself to stop playing, and over the course of an hour, the melody seemed to slowly return back to how it was meant to be.

When he finally took his fingers from the keys, he felt normal again. Empty and numb, all earlier traces of stronger, uncharted emotions gone