An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Darcy/Spencer
Rated T
742 words
“Are you home or still gone?” Darcy asked.
“Still gone,” Spencer replied, sounding as if he wished it weren’t true, but Darcy had been doing this long enough to step over the landmine that was yearning while in a long-distance relationship. It didn’t make anything better to wallow in the fact that they couldn’t be together. It was more productive to talk about the next time they would be.
for @vampirodelascajas, @marvelfanuniverse, @piccalily0510
“I don’t really think this is going to work out,” Darcy said, surprised as hell to hear the words coming out so clearly. Unbroken by a catch in her voice or anything at all. She sounded almost emotionally competent.
“What?” Spencer’s eyes widened with hurt and she immediately wanted to take the words back. “Why?”
“We never see each other,” she said softly. “I mean... we didn’t even talk for the last month, Spencer.”
“You were busy,” he stated. “And so was I.”
“A month, though? Did you even notice we weren’t speaking?”
She had to think he didn’t. She had, but she got the feeling from him that he wasn’t as invested in this as she was. Not that it really mattered before, but she’d gone and caught feelings for her nerdy FBI profiler, so it was a little bit difficult not speaking with him for a month. Meeting him for coffee almost felt like a vacation from the mess she’d been for the last four weeks.
Hell, she’d almost thought he’d broken things off and she hadn’t remembered or something.
“I did notice,” he said bluntly. “It’s all I noticed. I’ve been a mess, wondering if you’re alright, but I know you like your space, so I waited for you to---“
“Wait...” Darcy held her hand up in front of her. “Wait, you wanted to talk to me?”
“Yes, but I knew you were hung up on work things that you can’t discuss with me, and you never called, and I didn’t want to bother you, and---“
“Wow,” she said, propping her forehead in her hand and leaning over the table between them. “We need to communicate more. Because I thought you just... I dunno. I thought you weren’t that into a committed relationship. And normally that doesn’t bother me, but... God, Spencer, you’re fucking adorable, you know that?”
“Why do I get the sense that you’re upset about that?” he asked, arching his eyebrows and making her laugh.
“Because. If I catch feelings it means I fall harder when you pull the rug out.”
“I... your metaphor is escaping me, but I don’t... I’m not in the habit of sharing rugs with anyone, let alone pulling it out from under someone... Darcy, I’m sorry if I made you think that I...”
“Again...” she held her hand up to stop him. “It’s because we aren’t talking. We should talk. Get it all out in the open.”
“I like talking to you every day,” Spencer said softly. “Hearing your voice is often the best thing about my day, and when we weren’t talking... it felt so...”
“Empty,” she filled in for him. He nodded in reply.
“Empty,” he repeated.
“I don’t like empty,” she said.
“Me either.”
“So we should just... talk every day, then.”
“I’d like that. I’d---“ he began but stopped.
“No... go ahead. “You’d...”
“I’d like it if you spent the night tonight.”
“Okay,” she said, smiling. “I can do that.”
“And tomorrow too,” he said softly.
“Tomorrow too,” she echoed.
He let out a breath and leaned over the table, kissing her lips gently and pulling back. “Do you want to go?”
“Yes. Yes, I do.”
“Me too,” he held out his hand and she grabbed it, following him out of the coffee shop.
1,182 words
Rated T
Fred Astaire - Jukebox the Ghost
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It wasn’t difficult to find her. Of course, Spencer was pretty sure there wasn’t another person on earth who he knew better than Darcy.
Even if it had been a year and he’d since stopped coming to the same coffee shop where they’d met. It was nearer to his apartment than any of the other ones, but he was the one who ended things, so he sucked it up and found a new coffee place.
When he stepped inside Common Grounds, he was amused to note that they hadn’t even rearranged the tables since he’d been in here last.
Spencer took a seat where he usually had before. By the fireplace that wasn’t lit yet, even though there was a nip in the air already. He was sipping at his coffee when she came in.
Darcy was alone when she arrived, and she had her laptop with her. Which meant she was coming in to do work while drinking her coffee. She used to do that when they were together too.
It was how he met her the first time. She’d had him plug in her laptop charger for her because he was closer to the outlet than she was.
He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked down at his coffee for a moment. And then he looked back up again.
She was at the counter and greeting the barista. And then she turned and saw him looking at her.
His face flushed hot and she tilted her head curiously for a moment before giving her order to the barista. She pointed in his direction as if to tell her that’s where she’d be. The barista nodded.
Darcy turned towards him and his stomach fell down around his shoes as she took a seat at the table beside him.
“You can sit here,” he said quietly.
“Can I? Thought you might still need your space,” she said curtly. Her eyebrows arched and he heard the teasing in her tone.
Even with her mirth, the words hurt. But it coincided with what he’d told her when they broke up. He wasn’t nice about it. And if anything, he’d been rather rude to her.
“No...” he said quietly. “Nothing like that.”
“Cool,” she said. “Are you sure you want me over there?”
“Darcy...” he murmured, turning to face her. “Please sit with me.”
She inhaled and exhaled deeply. “Fine. But only because you said please.”
She rose to her feet and Spencer automatically jumped up to pull out the chair for her.
“Thanks,” she said, placing her bag on the table in front of her and folding her arms on top of it.
He took his seat again and really just took a moment to look at her.
She’d dyed her hair. Sort of. One of those ombre things that Garcia talked about. He wondered vaguely if she’d gotten it done on one of the days Em and Penelope had been hanging out with her or if it was something she did on her own. Darcy wasn’t the type to get things done like that on an impulse, so it made sense that she’d have taken friends with her.
Her eyes were wide and blue and it almost hurt to look at them.
“Your hair looks nice,” he said softly.
“Thank you,” she replied.
“Darcy... I---“
The barista showed up then with her coffee, and Darcy took it, thanked her profusely, and when she left, he tried again.
“Darcy, I’m sorry.”
“Spencer...” she began. “I know you are.” She didn’t sound angry. She sounded understanding and he didn’t want that. He wanted her anger. Because he knew he deserved it.
“No, you don’t. I mean... you probably know I’m sorry because you know me and you know that the last time we talked, I wasn’t myself.”
“Because you were using,” she replied. “The Dilaudid. After what happened with...” she trailed off and shrugged. “You know who.”
“Yeah, I mean...” His phone started buzzing in his pocket, but he ignored it.
“Spencer. I wish you’d have come and talked with me earlier. I could have put your mind at ease. No one needs to be in a relationship while they’re trying to get clean. At least, that’s how my therapist explained it.”
“You had to see a therapist?” he asked, suddenly feeling worse. Why was he here? Why was he even trying to mend this bridge?
“Dude, I needed to see one for other things. This just happened to be the catalyst that got me going in the first place. Everyone should see one. Everyone.”
“I’m just... I’m so sorry, Darcy and I don’t want to be this guy. I don’t want to be the guy who treats you like garbage and then comes crawling back, but I am. I’m weak and I miss you and I need you to forgive me.”
His phone buzzed again. This was more important.
“I already have,” she replied, taking a sip of her coffee.
“What?” he asked, he’d been so ready to beg that he wasn’t expecting her to say that.
“I already forgave you, Spencer.”
“But I... I had this whole thing planned.”
“You can tell me later. Maybe over dinner?” she asked, reaching for a packet of raw sugar from the middle of the table.
“Dinner?”
“Yeah, whenever you get back from the case.”
“The case...”
“Your phone’s been buzzing for like four minutes straight. Answer it. Go do your thing. I’ll be here when you get back.”
“Why though?”
“Because it’s your job.”
“No, I mean... why will you be here? What have I done to deserve a second chance?”
“Spencer. You deserve all the chances.”
“I really don’t.”
“That’s for me to decide, isn’t it? Besides. You’re going to take me out to that really expensive bougie place that just opened up down the street. You’re gonna ask Dave to get us reservations. It’d be stupid of me not to go for that.” She winked.
Spencer grinned widely. God, she was amazing. He didn’t deserve amazing and they still had so much to talk about, but it was just a fact. Darcy was amazing. “Oh yeah, I forgot I was going to do that.”
“Yeah, well. That’s why you have me.”
“Do I?” he asked. “Have you?”
She smiled. “You’ve got me, alright.”
He stood up and bent forward to reach her lips, He kissed her desperately and in full view of everyone in the entire coffee shop. And he was loath to stop, even though his phone was buzzing like crazy in his pocket. It wasn’t like him, but he felt like he’d been starving and suddenly allowed food. He slowed down on the kiss though, because he knew what happened to starving people when they wolfed down food all at once.
She brought her hand up to cup his jaw and he nearly melted into the floor. “Answer your phone. I’ll see you when you get back.”
“I’ll get the reservations,” he murmured.
“I was kidding. Just come back safe.”
She might have been kidding, but he wasn’t. “I will.”
for @scarletnerd05
563 words
Rated T
Chamomile - Meet-cute while waiting somewhere
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Darcy mentally counted the items in her arms one more time.
Milk, coffee, Splenda, eggs, bread, dark chocolate for her stash, sliced cheese, and a sad little succulent that she was hoping to nurse back to health. Only eight things. So she was still below the ten and under as indicated by the express lane sign.
Unlike the person in front of her who easily had four times that many things and was starting to unload them onto the belt.
Darcy sighed and shifted her weight, so much for this being express.
“Sorry, hon. This is express,” said the cashier, popping her gum and eying the woman unloading her thirty items.
“Don’t you ‘hon’ me, this is barely over ten.”
The cashier arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow and eyed the belt. She stuck her hand out and pushed back three quarters of the items. “Go put that back and you’ll be express.”
“Are you kidding me? You’re going to make me move? It would take less time to just check me out!”
“I sincerely doubt it. You can take all that to four.” The cashier nodded her head behind her.
The woman hemmed and hawed, but gathered her things and tossed them back into her cart. She backed up and Darcy wasn’t fast enough, she rammed right into her and knocked the carton of eggs out of her arms. They splatted on the floor and the bagboy sighed heavily and went to start cleaning them up.
“God, get the fuck out of the way,” the woman barked.
“Is there a point, or are you also going to smash my bread if I don’t move?” Darcy snapped back. The woman didn’t reply, just yanked her cart out of the line and glared in Darcy’s direction.
“We’ll send for another dozen, ma’am,” the cashier said. “Sorry about that.”
“She can have mine,” said the person behind her.
Darcy turned and her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. How had she not seen that dorkalicous piece of perfection standing behind her this entire time? Floppy hair and a sweater vest. He ticked all the boxes.
“You don’t have to---“ she began.
“No, it’s fine. I still have a half dozen at home, I can get more the next time I come in.”
“Are you... are you sure?” she asked, placing all her items on the belt. “You totally don’t have to do that.”
He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Not everyday I can actually help,” he said with a laugh. He had a great smile.
“I’m Darcy,” she replied. “Thanks for the eggs.”
“Spencer,” he replied. “Don’t worry about it. You can, you know, pay it forward.”
“Do you drink coffee, Spencer?” Darcy asked, while the cashier rang her up.
“I live on it,” he said with a laugh.
“Cool, let me contribute to your life force sometime. When are you free?”
“I’m not really sure, but when I am, I could call you and let you know?”
“You don’t have my number...” Darcy said.
“I was kind of hoping you’d give it to me?” he said with a grin.
“Oh. Right. Of course.” She laughed and reached for the pen laying nearby. “Can I borrow this?” she asked the cashier, who nodded.
She scribbled her number on the back of his hand. “There. Call me soon before it washes off.”
Darcy sniffled again, reaching for the box of tissues. She yanked one out to blow her nose loudly and then tossed it in the Starbucks bag she had left there that morning for that very purpose.
After her boss had sent her home, she’d gotten a chocolate croissant and a peppermint mocha, but both were long gone and she was sort of wanting something warm to ease her sore throat again.
Groaning, she started to pull herself up to a sitting position when her phone rang. She grabbed it, recognizing the number immediately.
“Spencer?” she answered, sort of surprised to hear from him. He was away on a case with the team. She’d left word with Penelope that she was sick and staying home for a few days, but she hadn’t really expected to hear from him until the case was over.
“Hey, could you buzz me in?” he asked.
“Buzz you in? Where are you?”
“Downstairs,” he replied as if it was obvious.
“Okay, but where were you? Because I thought you were on a case.”
“In Virginia,” he clarified. “Not far at all, and they didn’t need me for this one. Thought you probably needed me more, so...”
She honestly couldn’t remember if Penelope or anyone had told her he was in Virginia, but she wasn’t exactly feeling one-hundred percent, so she definitely could have forgotten.
“Oh. Well. Yeah, let me come buzz you in... I will warn you... I’m mucousy.”
“I brought hot chocolate,” he replied.
“Oh damn...” she quickly hit the buzzer and went back to the sofa. “You don’t happen to have food with you, do you?”
“I wasn’t sure what you’d want to eat, so I ordered takeout from all three of your favorite places.”
“You really abide by the whole ‘stuff a cold’ thing, huh?”
“Well, that’s actually an old adage, probably began somewhere in the Middle Ages where there were only two kinds of known illnesses. One brought on by a chill, which could be remedied by fueling yourself, and one from a fever, which would need to be cooled down. But really you should feed a cold and feed a fever, or better yet, drown them both because replenishing fluids is most important.”
“I love you,” she murmured, laying her head back on the sofa when she heard his key in the door.
“Love you too,” he replied, hanging up the phone. “Do you want food first or...”
“The doctor has spoken,” she replied. “Gotta replenish them fluids, so gimme that hot chocolate.”
for @nefariousinkblot
462 words
Rated T
Columbine - Distract me while I’m nervous
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“Distract me while I’m nervous,” Darcy said, clasping her hands together and wringing them. “I’m going to jitter out of my seat before they come back... “You’re certain he’s okay?”
“He is,” Spencer replied, his eyes cutting down to her hands and back up to her face again. “They found him alive and unhurt. What can I do to distract you?”
Penelope coughed loudly from across the room, and Spencer looked up at her, eyes burrowing into hers and mentally begging her to stop being so obvious.
“I don’t know. You read, right? What did you read last?” Darcy asked, wrapping both arms across her waist and leaning back on the sofa to stare at the ceiling.
“Actually, I read the unsub’s journals... it’s how we found---“ He stopped short when Penelope nearly dropped her coffee mug, changing tactics immediately. “But bookwise, I read a collection of short stories my mother sent me.”
Darcy nodded absently. “Your mom sent them to you?” she smiled. “Sounds like something my mom would have done. She was an English professor, though.”
“Really?” Spencer asked. “Mine too. Fifteenth Century Literature.”
“Eighteenth Century Brit Lit,” Darcy replied. “As if my name didn’t give that away.”
Spencer smiled. “Jane Austen fan?”
“Try Jane Austen scholar,” she said with a laugh, rolling her eyes. “Mom literally wrote a book on Austen. It’s used in higher level college courses. She was straight up obsessed. My brother’s full name’s Bennet.” She let her arms relax. “You’re sure he’s okay?” she asked again.
“He’s fine. I can call Hotch if you want, let you talk to him?”
She inhaled sharply and nodded. “Could you?”
“Of course.”
He pulled out his phone and dialed Hotch, handing the phone over to Darcy when it was appropriate.
The relief in her eyes made his chest relax a little.
And when he glanced over at Penelope, it seized back up again. She raised her eyebrows, looking over at Darcy and back at him again.
He abruptly turned around to look out the window behind the sofa, out into the bustling precinct. But he let his gaze wander back to Darcy.
Her smile lit up the entire room.
And that scared him just a little.
“Reid,” Garcia hissed, beckoning him over. He walked over and took a seat beside her, looking at her blank computer screen.
“What?” he asked.
“Are you gonna?” she asked.
“She lives in New York.”
“So? Are you gonna?”
“Long-distance relationships are awful.”
“They are. But are you gonna?” she asked, grinning widely.
He sighed and looked over at Darcy, a pang in his chest deepening when she looked over and locked eyes with him, grinning from ear to ear.
“Yes,” he replied.
He didn’t really hear Garcia’s reaction. He didn’t have to.
