So I found this on my computer and I thought, wow, this is old, lol. I ran a spell check through it and that's about it. This is from a few years back, something that I wrote and apparently never wrote more on. As I'm bored, I'm going to share this with you guys. It's just a one shot that is kind of different and apparently was something I felt the need to write once upon a time lol. I hope you guys are at least amused by it. :D Enjoy!

Oh, and please, I have a new poll up. Take a moment to take a peek, would ya? Thanks, my lovelies!

Spencer let his eyes drift aimlessly around the bar for what felt like the hundredth time in five minutes. He couldn't concentrate. Though he was out with his friends, supposed to be having a good time, he couldn't seem to make himself enjoy it at all. Frustrated with himself, he grabbed his glass off the table and sat back in his chair before taking a long drink. No one else was at the table at the moment and he took advantage of that to try and pull himself together. Get it together, Spencer Reid! Quit moping. This was your choice. You made the decision to leave—and it was the right one. It was what needed to be done. But he couldn't stop himself from imagining what Remy's face had been when he finally got back from the mission. The young Cajun had to be home by now. He had to have seen the note that Spencer had left for him. Had he been angry? Hurt? Did he even care?

Tears burned at the backs of his eyes. It hurt more than he'd ever known it could to walk away from Remy like that. Without even a proper goodbye. But Spencer knew that it had been the right choice to make. He couldn't stay there with him. How could he? Like a little woman, waiting for her husband to come home, he'd been at the mansion as Remy had gone on his missions with the team. It had made Spencer miserable to sit around and wait while Remy was gone. He was used to working; to doing things and to helping people. That was who he was. That was why he'd become an agent in the first place—to help people who couldn't help themselves. Was he supposed to just stay at the mansion, no longer an agent, not an X-Man?

The worst part was, Spencer thought he could have. He could have been happy, making them a home. Living out the rest of his days with Remy by his side. But how long would it take before Remy became frustrated with him because of it? How long before he came home and said he had enough of the overly dependent Spencer? Once again, Rogue's horrible words echoed in his mind. "You're clingy, Spencer. You cling tightly to him, always all over him. He likes it now, sure. But what about in the future? How can he love a man who's that dependent on him? How can he respect someone who does nothing? That Cajun wants someone just as strong as him. Someone who will stand up and fight alongside him, not someone that he has to leave at home so he won't get hurt. He needs an equal. Someone who isn't scared of what's in them. Who can embrace their powers without fear of murdering people. And, let's face it. That's not you. You're better off leaving before he leaves you." And so he had. He'd left, Rogue's words playing over and over in his mind, playing on all his insecurities.

A hand on his shoulder pulled Spencer from his thoughts. "You okay there, kid?" Derek asked gently, slipping down into the seat at his side.

Quickly Spencer scrubbed his hand at his eyes, trying to make it seem like he was simply tired. "Yeah, Morgan. I'm fine. I was just drifting, I think. I'm a little tired." Please, believe it. I know you have no reason to. I know you're all worried and that's why we're out tonight. But please, don't push. I can't take it right now.

Of course, that wish went unanswered. Derek just wasn't built to 'leave it alone' when someone he cared about was hurting. He turned his attention fully to Spencer, ignoring the crowd of the bar behind him. "You sure?" His eyes held a wealth of concern that was almost Spencer's breaking. "Talk to me, Reid. When you came back, you were better than when you left. You work again and you're alive again. But something in you is a little broken. What happened?"

It was so tempting to just open up and talk about it. Derek would listen to him. He always listened to him. He'd told Spencer more than once that that's what brothers do; they listen. But Spencer didn't know if he could say the words without breaking his own heart a little more. Everything inside of him was raw and aching. He opened his mouth to tell Derek that it was fine, that he was okay, but what came out was "I miss him."

Derek knew instantly who he was talking about. The whole team knew about Remy, to an extent. When Spencer had announced that he and the Cajun were a couple, they'd all been happy for him; it was obvious to anyone that Remy made Spencer happy. That was why none of them understood why Spencer came back from his vacation, refusing to talk about the Cajun. They knew something had happened, just not what it was.

Scrubbing a hand over his eyes again, Spencer looked at his lap. Those three words had summed up his problem perfectly. He missed Remy. "It wasn't supposed to be this hard, Morgan." Covering his face, Spencer rested his elbows on the table and tried to fight back the ache. "I did the right thing. So why does it hurt so much?"

"Are you sure it was the right thing, kid? How can something that's right make you so miserable?" Leaning over, Derek clapped a hand on Spencer's shoulder, rightfully guessing that Spencer had no answer for that. He knew his best friend well and he knew when to push and when to back away. Right then was a moment to back away. Without a word, he sat back in his chair and turned his attention back to the rest of the room, giving Spencer a moment to think and to compose himself. He also gave a warning look to the team members that were making their way back to the table, letting them clearly know even without words that now was not the time to bother Spencer. To just come sit down and let the genius have a bit to compose himself.

Spencer didn't get long to think on the words, though. Something else intruded on his thoughts. Something that was very, very angry.

"Spencer Reid!"

The sound of that furious voice had Spencer's head snapping up. Almost as quickly as he looked up, a hand fisted in the front of his shirt, yanking him to his feet, bringing him eye to eye with one pissed off Cajun. Spencer couldn't even bring his hands up to defend himself with. He simply stood there in Remy's grip, eyes wide, staring at the man he hadn't ever thought he'd see again. To his side, Derek shot to his feet, ready in a flash to defend his friend. "Hey! Let go of him!"

"Back off!" Remy actually snarled at Derek. He took a step back, yanking Spencer with him, and glared down at him. Spencer held a hand out to Derek, hoping he would understand the message to stay back.

Remy wasn't speechless like Spencer. He was furious. "What de hell is wrong with y'?" He demanded loudly. Neither one paid any attention to all the eyes that were on them. A good half of the bar was watching the tableau as Remy gave Spencer a small shake. "I get back home an find y'r damn note on m' bed. On our bed! Wasn't I good enough to say goodbye t'? Wasn't worth' more dan a fucking letter, me?"

Heartache flared in Spencer. He was frozen, staring up at the face he loved. A face that let him know in no uncertain terms that he was in deep, deep shit. "Of course you're…"

Remy cut his stammer off with another little shake. "Non! I'm not done yet. Y' had y'r chance t' say y'r piece wit' dat fuckin' letter, Spencer. Now it's my turn!" His grip in Spencer's shirt tightened, bringing their faces even closer together. "Who de hell do y' t'ink y' are? Y' wait till Remy goes on de mission an den y' just pack up y'r shit and walk out? Thought we had something good, me. Don't believe none of dis shit y' put in de letter, neither. Y' tell me de damn truth, right now, Spencer. I deserve dat much! Why'd y' leave?"

"I had to!" Spencer shouted back at him. He was surprised by the strength of his voice but only for a moment. Then emotion took over. Bringing his hands up, he grabbed Remy's hand, yanking it off his shirt so that he could take a step back. His eyes were tortured as they locked on Remy. "Dammit, couldn't you just let this go, Remy? I did what I had to. What was best for the both of us."

Remy didn't grab him again, but he didn't back down either. "Why do y' get t' decide what's best fo' de both of us? Don't I get a say in dis? Y' made dis decision fo' de both of us, Spencer, and I deserve t' know why!"

"I had to." This time, Spencer almost whispered the words. They came from part of him that had been broken ever since he left. He turned his face away from Remy, trying to control his tears, and his voice stayed low, trying for privacy in the middle of this very public place. He was conscious of the other bar patrons watching them, as well as his friends. The team stood nearby, their stances letting it be known that they would intercede if they had to. Spencer battled back his embarrassment at having to have this conversation so publicly. But he knew Remy wouldn't listen if he tried to suggest they leave. All he could do was give his answer and hope that this would be over soon. "You deserve someone that can be your equal, Remy. Someone you can respect. Someone who can fight alongside you instead of someone you feel you have to leave at home to protect. Someone that doesn't have a living nightmare inside of them. I…that's not me. Better I walk away now than have you walk away later when you realize I'm right."

If the others had thought that Remy would go soft and sweet, they were in for a surprise. The Cajun looked, if anything, even angrier than before. "Remy's gonna take dat femme t' de mats when he gets home and teach her t' mind her own business." He growled out. His hands curled into fists and the energy in him seemed to bring a crackle to the air. That was enough to have Spencer turning, knowing that he needed to get Remy calm before he made something blow up. Before he could even blink, Remy was grabbing his shirt again, yanking him forward. This time, he brought their lips together in a kiss full of anger and passion and love.

Thoughts of where they were or of anyone around them all fell away. Spencer felt the moan slip up, swallowed by the man who was devouring his mouth. He brought his hands up, unsure if he was trying to pull Remy close or push him away. The hand in his shirt let go, sliding down to his hip to yank their bodies flush while the other one went behind them, fisting in Spencer's hair and holding his head in place.

When they broke apart, Remy brought his hand up from Spencer's hip to take hold of his chin and hold his face in place. Their eyes met and locked, neither able to look away. "Dere's no one I respect more dan I respect y', Spencer Reid. No one I love more. No matter if I'm taking care of y' or y'r taking care of me, we'll always be equals. Just cause I like taking care of y' doesn't mean I don't see y' as my equal."

"I like you taking care of me. I like that you take charge." Spencer told him honestly. He could be nothing but honest in that moment. "I love all those things about you, Remy. I just don't want you to, to look back one day and think that you—you know, that you regret anything."

"Tais –toi. Never will Remy regret a single moment spent with y', cher. Y'r my heart. Je t'aime, mon coeur."

What else could Spencer say right then? His heart felt like it was overflowing. "Je t'aime." Spencer repeated back to him. "I love you too, Remy LeBeau."

The grip in his hair tightened and Spencer found himself being kissed once more. As their lips meshed, the link between them flared, emotions racing from one to the other so that, by the time they pulled back, Spencer could barely stand, let alone make his brain work. What little brain power he had left seemed to disappear when Remy broke their kiss and leaned in and licked his ear and whispered "Y' better find us a place t' go, cher, b'fore I take y' right here an right now. I'll push y' right up against dat wall over dere an bury m'self so deep in y' dat y'll be feeling me fo' days. Den y' won't never forget y' belong t' dis old Cajun."

"Oh, God." Spencer felt all the blood in his brain pool straight down to his groin. Uncaring of their audience, he grabbed Remy's hand, pulling out of the rest of his grip, and then he was dragging him towards the front door of the bar. His friends could wait. He'd give them some kind of explanation. Right now, he had something far more important to attend to.