Chapter 8

Last chapter peoples! So enjoy!

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Gibbs halted his pacing and slammed the flat of his palm against the table, "Why did you kill John Phillips?"

"I didn't! How many times do I have to tell you this?" Emily glared at Gibbs through her tears.

Gibbs growled, clearly frustrated and stormed out of the room. He appeared moments later in observation and glared, "This isn't working."

"I agree." Agent Hotchner nodded.

"We could try questioning her mother. I mean, they lived in the same house, worked in the same casino, and the woman doesn't notice that her daughter is killing people?" I suggested.

Gibbs looked over at me, an unreadable expression on his face. About a minute of awkward silence passed before he nodded, "Do it, DiNozzo. I'm going for coffee." And promptly left the room without a backwards glance.

I rubbed my eyes tiredly. At eight in the morning, I was hardly awake, let alone functioning. It had been another uneventful night of surveillance and the mere mention of coffee was beautifully sweet and torturous at the same time. Sweet, because I could really use some right about now, and torturous because I know Gibbs would never think to bring back a cup. Not that the sludge he drinks would be any sane mans definition of good coffee, but at least it would wake me up.

"Is he always like that?" The question startled me out of my haze. Agent Hotchner looked at me expectantly.

"Yes." Why sugar coat it? Maybe once upon a time Gibbs had been a fair team leader and actually treated his agents with compassion, decency and understanding, but that time was long gone.

With a bitter sigh, I made my way to interrogation two.

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I sat down in the hard plastic chair with a tired sigh. After the phone conversation last night, I told Hotch that Derek was awake and asked to be allowed to drive back to make sure he was ok. Thankfully, he said I could come. So it's just my luck that when I arrive, the moron is fast asleep. Thinking back to last night, it still feels so surreal.

"I love you, Spencer."

"Wha … I ... um … just for clarifications sake, could you repeat that?"

"I love you."

"That's what I thought you said."

"You're not mad at me, are you?"

"Why would I be mad at you? It's perfectly natural for friends to love each other, some people would even go so far as to say that love is the basis of friendship, although personally I always though that trust was the prime component of a healthy-"

"Reid."

"Yeah?"

"I don't mean that I love you like a friend. I'm in love with you. I think I have been for a long time."

". . . oh."

"So I'll ask again; are you mad at me?"

"Well that would be sort of hypocritical of me wouldn't it?"

"I … what?"

"I … I love you too, Derek."

"Seriously?"

"Can you see me joking about something like this?"

"I suppose not."

" … listen, we're on a case right now in D.C. but we're almost finished. I can ask Hotch if I can come back early and we'll talk more. You just woke up from a coma, so you're probably still out of sorts a little bit."

"Maybe a little bit. Is it weird to feel tired after sleeping for three weeks?"

"Not at all. I'll let you get some rest. See you soon."

"Bye, Spencer."

"Bye Derek."

What happens now? I mean, love is one thing, but a relationship? Hotch would fire both of us just for thinking about it. And how would it affect the team? Or how we co-operate in the field? There are so many things that can go wrong. Are we willing to risk everything for the chance that it might work?

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"So tell me about your daughter, Mrs. Leduc." I sat down across from the woman cautiously.

"I can tell you she's not a killer, Agent DiNozzo." She glared at me, but I brushed it off. After Gibbs, not many people can intimidate me.

"Why do you believe that?"

"Why? Because she's my daughter, that's why!" She slammed her fist down on the table. "A mother knows these things, and I know Emily hasn't hurt anyone."

"She hasn't been acting unusual lately? No sudden moments of anger or rage?" I asked, recalling what the FBI agents had said about how the unsub was likely to react to people around her.

"No! She was slightly depressed when she received that thoughtless and heartless invitation from that bastard, Phillips." Mrs. Leduc's scowl became more pronounced.

"The wedding invite."

"As if it isn't enough for him to break my daughter's heart, he has to rub it in her face to?" Whoa. Okay, back up there. Is it just me, or is she too pissed off over her daughter's love life? Something's not right about this…

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"Uh oh."

"What uh oh?" McGee asked. I pointed to one of my monitors.

"You know those prints we lifted of the ID's at the last crime scene? They don't match Emily Leduc."

"Oh Gibbs is not going to like that." I nodded. "Did you run the victims prints, just in case?"

"Duh, McGee, those ran along with little Miss Leduc's. No match."

"Try Mrs. Leduc's."

I jumped and spun around. "Okay… but why? I mean, it's not like she was anywhere near the scene."

Agent Prentiss shrugged. "She acted suspicious when Agent DiNozzo questioned her. Running her prints would just double check everything."

"Alright, running them now." Tim added her prints to the search. "Why was Tony questioning Mrs. Leduc?"

"To see if we could any information about her daughter."

I nodded. That made sense, I supposed. Hopefully, once this is all over, Tony will tell us just what's going on.

My computer beeped, signalling a result. "Okay, so- oh. It's a match. Gabriella Leduc is a match for the prints at the scene."

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"Why do you think he's rubbing it in her face? Maybe he truly cared for her, and wanted her to be there for him." There, that sounded reasonable, didn't it?

"Please, that boy was nothing but trouble. He treated Emily like she was his slave, not his girlfriend!"

"You really care about your daughter." I wasn't a question, really. More of an observation. Mrs. Leduc nodded. "John Phillips, he had a mother who cared about him just as much as you care about Emily. Do you think that it was fair that she lost someone that close to her?"

"I can empathize with her, but she wouldn't have lost her son if she hadn't raised him to treat others like dirt!" That certainly didn't sound empathetic.

"So you think Phillips deserved what happened to him?"

"That bastard deserved everything I did to him and more!"

I froze. Well that was unexpected. "You killed John Phillips?"

"I killed all of them. Do you know how hard it is to watch your child's heart get broken over and over again? I had to do something to make those man-whores regret ever messing with the Leduc family. And I did."

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"Pretty boy? What are you doing here?" I looked up in surprise.

"Hey, you're awake. We were close to finishing the case so Hotch let me come back early." He smiled, but it was shaky, as if he wasn't sure he should be smiling.

"Just like that? He let you leave?"

"We've all been worried about you."

I nodded. Spencer had a look of concentration on his face, as he were trying to figure out how to say something. "Derek, I … I don't know how this is going to work out. I mean, the FBI is excruciatingly clear on workplace relationships, and Hotch is, well he's Hotch, and then the-"

"Spencer." If I didn't cut him off, he'd ramble for an hour before he tired himself out. "I'm not about to give you up over a few lousy rules. We'll figure it out, and we'll make it work. Simple as that."

He bit his lip. How could I not have noticed just how attractive he is until now? "Okay."

I let out a sigh of relief. "Okay." We would sort everything out. Together.

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The bullpen was dark, but that was ok. I always like it when it's dark. It's easier to think when there's nothing going on around you. Director Vance said that someone else would cover my assignment the next two nights, and that I should get some rest. That was nice of him. Always looking after his agents' health, isn't he? Especially when he has their team leaders breathing down his neck.

That's the fourth time Gibbs has glanced over at me in the last hour. What, does he think I'm blind or something? I do notice things. It's what I'm trained to do, after all. I know that ignoring him won't make him go away, and I know that I won't be able to deflect his questions forever, and that one of these days, I'll have to tell him all about the opp. But not today.

"Night boss." I stood up, grabbed my gear, and walked towards the stairs. Just in case.

"Tony." Damn it. I was really hoping I wouldn't have to dodge another round of questions tonight.

"Yes boss?"

"Good work on the case." Oh. Well that wasn't what I was expecting.

"Thanks boss. See you tomorrow." The confrontation seems to have been put on hold. At least for a little while. And that suits me just fine.

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Done! For now, anyway. The sequel's are in the works, and should be up soonish, so keep an eye out for them. And thank you all you who reviewed and favourited my story. It really gave me the motivation to not give up on it. Until next time, this is brownie, signing off.