Two High IQ's Make One Great Romance

All the ibuprofen in the world could not cure the hangover I had. It was worse than when Brianne was in town. The kitchen seemed to be mocking me when I woke up. I knew then that something had happened, but I couldn't remember anything past taking shots at the bar. I ran to the bathroom to lay in the shower and let the water attempt to clear my head.
No use. Nothing was coming back.

I crawled weakly into my bed and flipped on the television. Reading seemed too hard at that point. It was useless to try and sleep, my aching stomach made sure of that.

I ignored the incoming calls I was getting, it was Sunday, and if the team needed me for anything important I had my pager. It was obviously someone who just wanted to talk.

The next two hours were spent much in the same way, drinking water, watching the home shopping network, and groaning in pain.

Eventually I allowed myself to walk to the kitchen and make some dinner. I jumped and knocked a bowl on the ground as a knock came to the door.

"Derek? Hi." I said, opening the door and letting him in. He didn't speak or move for a moment, but followed me in anyway.

"You look like hell." He half-smiled. I threw a spoon at him.

"Shut up, it must have been one hell of a night."

"Do you remember it? It's kind of why I came." He sat down at my table and folded his hands on top of it. I sat across from him and pinched my eyebrows together.

"No, I don't. Did something happen?" I wasn't sure I wanted the answer to my question. Obviously something happened, Derek wouldn't show up for nothing. He sighed and massaged his temples.

"You don't remember dancing with me? Taking a cab back here? Us uh... in the kitchen?"
My eyes scanned the kitchen table. Why did I sleep in the kitchen? Did it have something to do with what he was talking about? My head was practically steaming as I tried to remember what happened. Bits and pieces started floating back, slowly but surely. The dancing, the cab, the events leading up to my slumber on the floor. I looked at the kitchen table, this time with disgust.

"It's uh... it's coming back to me." The final part set in, the moment before Derek left. The kiss that left me shocked and angered, but more confused than anything. My hands rang together until the skin was raw. How could I do that? How could I do that to Spencer?

"I know girlie, I know." Derek whispered as he realized my obvious discomfort. He reached out to grab my hand, I pulled back.

"How could we? I don't... What were we thinking?" I closed my eyes and set my head down on the table. I wanted to throw up.

"I'm sorry. It's my fault. You're young and it was wrong to act that way around you, especially because we work together... and because of Reid."

"No one can know. Not a single person. Not Penelope, Brianne... especially Spencer."

"I know. I'm so sorry. You know it's only because of the alcohol, right?"

"Of course I know that! You think either of us would have let that happen if we weren't drunk?" I screamed at him, rising from my chair and clutching my head. "I'm too hungover for this." I sat back down.

"Are we ok?" He asked after a moment of silence. I shrugged.

"I don't know. I think as long as no one knows about this... then we're fine. You're like my brother, I can't just forget that now." I couldn't look him in the eyes although I know he wanted me to.

"I know little sis." He ruffled my hair. "Listen, no one will know about this, and we can move on like it never happened."

"That sounds good. Now, not to be rude, but can you leave? I'm tired. I think I'm calling it an early night."

"Sure thing. See you bright and early."

"Bye Derek."
He strolled towards the door, I didn't bother watching him leave. It opened and shut, and I was by myself again.

I was tired, but sleep didn't come easy. Moments replayed like a movie scene in my head, it was like I was watching it on a screen. Was it possible to hide something like this for too long? Granted, nothing dangerously bad happened, but had I allowed it too...

My phone began blinking on my end table. I picked it up and saw that I had ten missed calls. Most of them were from Derek from earlier in the day, but two were from Spencer. I choked on the lump in my throat that was forming. It would be impossible to speak to him. I didn't know how long I could avoid him, but I would hold out for as long as possible. Possibly until he came home, whenever that was. "Starting over" with him would be impossible if he knew what Derek and I had almost done.

XXXXXX

To my surprise, then next day at work was not nearly as awkward as I suspected. Derek came in, greeted me in his usual fashion, flirted with Penelope for the better part of fifteen minutes, and went on his way. No one suspected a thing, or at least didn't act like they did. I reminded myself that Derek was a profiler, and knew what people would notice if we were to act any differently. He knew what to do to hide our discomfort around each other. It was one of the few times that I was glad I was friends with a profiler.

They left for a case that day, giving me more alone time than I wanted. It was amazing how dark and lonely the tech room can be when there's no one in it to keep you company. Spending the day playing on-line poker and regretting the happenings of a weekend was not really the way I wanted it to be. There was little actual work, and the work that needed to get done took a matter of minutes, an hour at the most. Being Penelope's prodigy came along with a lot of free time. At least while the team was on a flight, anyway.

At frequent intervals I would get calls from Spencer, but I still didn't have the courage to pick up the phone. He would definitely realize something was off with me. I didn't have Derek with me to take over when my nervousness would undoubtedly start to show. I wondered how long Spencer would continue to call before he gave up and got angry with me.