Author's Note: Hey, readers! So, I love both Reid and JJ so much, but I've never exactly shipped them. But in 12X21 (Green Light), when JJ comes to get Reid out of prison and they hug... I don't know. I just felt a chemistry, and I fell a little bit in love with them. I guess I lowkey ship them now! And I had to write this story to let the fangirling out.

This fic is from JJ's POV, and refers to that scene. (And then some, duh.) Hope you enjoy, and drop a line if you can. :)

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters.

He had been scared.

In the split-second before his brain registered me, I caught it in his face, his posture, his eyes- raw and vulnerable. Being shoved in this empty room with no clue, a target on his back and him teetering on the edge of sanity- he was just standing there but in his mind he was struggling to be watchful, putting up his guard, fighting for his life. All in that split second- a snapshot for me, a summary of how the past weeks had been for him.

And then I saw it click- it's me, it's Jennifer, actual good news, and his expression crumpled with relief.

It broke my heart all over again.

It took me a moment to catch my breath, smile and say that he was coming home and we both rushed to each other, pulled together like it was inevitable- of course it was. We stood holding each other tight and I felt… I just felt.

Spencer was my best friend. He was my favorite colleague. He was the godfather of my child. He was shared jokes, he was tired smiles over files while going through the same old information again and again looking for a clue, he was us brainstorming together and me finding my footing in the rhythm of it as though I'd danced this dance forever. He was furrowed brows in front of a map on a board while I took a break sipping coffee and watched, he was rattled-off facts and statistics. He was brunch every weekend; he was catch with my sons and husband in the park. He was a shoulder in my darkness, a soldier beside me against the darkness. He was a beautiful mind, a beautiful soul. Something I needed in my life, someone I needed.

And I almost lost all that. Lost him.

He was scruffy, he smelled like alien things- old clothes and something tangy, he had lost weight- bones in his cheek and jaw even more prominent, his hair was longer. But it was Spence. He was hanging onto me with a fierce desperation that I found myself matching. My hand pressed on his neck, fingers touching his hair, and in the moment, with that overwhelming rush of every tangled feeling of pain, joy and relief came a memory that I hadn't thought about in a long time.

The memory of our only kiss.

He was twenty-four, a scrawny kid learning his way around the department. I was the media liaison for BAU then, on the other end of the crush, finding it adorable. Men has looked at me all my life, but what his eyes had when he thought I wasn't looking was wonder, and that- I couldn't ignore that.

He asked me out and we went to see a Redskins game. He spouted facts the whole time (I now know he does that when he gets nervous), didn't enjoy the game, and by the time we were out he clearly felt like this wasn't going well and beating himself up in his mind. I wasn't having a bad time, exactly, but not a great time either. But it got surprisingly better when we grabbed dinner at a restaurant, and I found out if you could ease him into a conversation and make it last a few minutes, the minutes actually turned to half an hour very easily, then maybe before you know it you've talked for an hour and hey, he is intelligent- who doesn't know that?- but he's also charming and has a quirky sense of humor that I found nice.

It wasn't magical. It was comfortable. He didn't fit like a diamond ring on my finger, but I sensed he could very well be my favorite worn sweatshirt.

I think we both knew as we stood on the doorstep of my building that there wouldn't be a second date. He wouldn't ask me again and I wouldn't ask him either. And we both also knew that we match in a way- not that way, no- but in our way- the way we are now. So we said goodbye, and yes I had a great time too, and smiled. It was okay, and it would be okay afterwards.

But then.

He lingered a moment too long. His eyes dropping to my lips for a heartbeat, then coming up to meet me, looking me in the eye while being quiet for the first time. His clear hazel eyes looked a darker green , and so young; and I thought of us never having this, doing this, being like this again, and I kissed him.

It was brief. It was light. It was his soft lips touching mine for half a second, my lips pressing on his for another half, it was me tasting him once, it was me touching his fingers before pulling away.

He looked at me again, and somehow I wasn't expecting to see what I saw in him then. I expected that wonder again maybe, a breathlessness, excitement, joy, even confusion. But he stood tall in front of me, holding himself easy and calm, an understanding in his eyes, like he knew exactly where we were, what we were. He didn't look like a boy anymore. I saw, for the first time, a man.

'Goodbye, Jennifer'; he said with the hint of a smile, and was gone.

And I would never admit this, I barely admit it to myself- that man has left traces in me.

Life goes on. Things settle, and if you're lucky like me, they find their perfect places. Will- my love, my husband, my home. My two beautiful sons. My mom. My family at the BAU. Shopping with Penelope, girl's night with Emily like she was never gone. Rossi's perfect lasagna every other month. And Spence- my best friend. Over the years, that's how everything found their places in my life, and I am very happy with it.

So once in a while, in unguarded moments when you catch yourself shaking it up in your mind, trying to see if the kaleidoscope forms a pattern that's more beautiful than the one you're seeing now, you shut it down because it's nonsense.

You don't wonder what would've happened if you prolonged a kiss years ago. If you'd actually said out loud what you were thinking a week later-maybe again sometime…?

When you're having a particularly lonely night and you end up really missing one friend in particular it means nothing.

When you're married and having a bad fight with your husband you don't think about the men that came before, and if the only one sharp enough in your memory, only one that stands apart from the others is your best friend you turn away from that road and remember how it feels when your husband pulls you to his chest and kisses the top of your head because that's whom you love.

When you see the godfather of your son playing with both your children and laughing with them and loving them so much, you feel happy. The fleeting moments when your mind tries to shove scenarios at your direction- another child with Henry and Michael- maybe a little girl, pretty with brown hair and intelligent green eyes, playing together, me watching as they attack their father giggling, and the father lies on the carpet, a different father... you let them go. No, you love your family just the way it is and nothing could be better.

The slots you've placed the permanent people in, you don't mess that up in moments of lazy, scattered thoughts- especially if it's been working out great. There's no point, nothing to be achieved.

Life is complicated. It's layers and layers on top of each other, balancing of things, a colossal spread of things. What's in a shadowy little corner doesn't matter. Has never mattered, and never will. It's true for all of us.

But as I stood pulled against Spencer, our arms around each other, memory of our long-ago kiss whispering and gone, I closed my eyes and I thought, 'Mine'.

Best friend. What if. Passed chance. Part of my whole. It didn't matter which at that moment.

Mine. You're mine.

And I'm taking you home.