Two High IQ's Make One Great Romance

"I totally won! No contest!" I yelled at Rossi who tossed his game controller down on the bed. He had come over for a visit and we ended up playing Super Mario Kart on the giant screen.

"You barely won." He laughed. "It's only because you're a tech wizard."

"Being a tech wizard has nothing to do with me kicking your ass." I smirked at him. Spencer walked in the room carrying three glasses of Coke.

"Thanks Reid, but I should get going, I think we're shipping out pretty early tomorrow." He stood from my bed and walked towards the door. "Good to see you feeling better, kid." Rossi waved at me, then Spencer, and walked out the door.

He was the third visitor to see me today, following Emily and JJ. Apparently everyone was nervous about my staying with Spencer, but also agreed that it was better than having a nurse take care of me. But, nevertheless, everyone was worried about Spencer making me even more hurt than I already was. Only because he was occasionally clumsy.

"Coke?" He asked, handing over a glass.

"Is it diet?" I asked back.

"No, why would I have diet?"

"Because I like diet." I joked with him. He smiled.

"Drink your soda."
We were quiet for a minute as Spencer settled in the bed beside me.

"Listen, Spence, I really appreciate this."

"Stop it, you've told me five times already how much you appreciate it, and I told you each time that it was no problem. I like having you here." He patted my thigh.

"We'll see if your opinion on me staying here doesn't change in the next four weeks."

We looked at each other briefly, but returned our attention to the screen in front of us. We were both still somewhat hesitant around each other because of what was said in the hospital. We loved each other, that's great, but neither one of us was going to say it again. At least, not yet.

In the process of yawning, I strained my lung, causing me to wince and buckle over painfully.

"Are you ok?" Spencer asked, frantic. I smiled through my pain.

"Yeah, fine. It's just my stupid lung, it hurts pretty bad." I gently rubbed the spot where I knew there was a small hole in my lung. My doctor assured me that it was going to be fine in a few weeks, but a few weeks was beginning to seem longer than ever.

"Let me get your pain meds." Spencer jogged over to the table where he had meticulously organized all of my medication and pain shots, along with my oxygen tank that I was supposed to wear when I was having trouble breathing. He handed me two white pills and another blue one.

"Thanks." I said while the pills slid down my throat.

"That's my job now." He smiled, sitting again. I slid over to him and crawled under his arm, burrowing myself into his side. I inhaled his cologne and thought about how anyone could ever feel this powerfully towards someone else. Spencer's fingertips lightly grazed the exposed skin on my arm, causing a trail of goose-bumps as he did. I looked up at him, his eyes were shut and his head tilted back. I ran a hand through his hair and kissed the bottom of his jaw.

"Spencer. Thank you."

"Stop saying thank you." He whispered. He clicked a button on his remote, and the lights in the room dimmed. One more button on the radio was on, Mozart was playing softly.

"Thank you for being with me." I said, looking down at his chest. I placed a hand on his it and snuggled even closer to him, crossing my legs over-top his. There was a long silence, and I started to drift into sleep. Spencer layed us both back and continued to rub my arm lightly.

"Piper?"

"Hm?" I answered him in my near state of sleep.

"I'm glad you're here."

"Me too."

XXXXXX

It was dark. Everything around me was cold. Where was I? I opened my eyes. It was my apartment. I brought my hands to my face, only to realize that they were bound together, as were my feet. Oh no, this cannot possibly be happening again. I started screaming, knowing that no one would hear me through the rag stuffed down my throat. No, no! Not again! I wouldn't do this again. The stabbing pain was suffocating me.

He walked in the room. There he was, stench and all. I started screaming for Spencer, praying that at any moment he would walk in the door and shoot the man who was going to kill me. But there was no one. It was me and him. He would get away with it this time, and I was going to die.

He walked closer to me and bent down, staring into my eyes. I started weeping. I didn't want to die. My chest hurt. My ankle throbbed. I didn't want to die.

XXXXXX

"Piper! Piper!" I woke up to see Spencer hovering over me with a panicked expression. I shot up, and immediately regretted the decision as I clutched my rib cage.

"Ahh!" I yelled out.

"Piper, you were screaming, are you ok?" Spencer asked. I wiped the beads of sweat from my forehead and exhaled deeply.

"No." I shook my head. The dream was so real. It was like I was reliving everything again, and I wasn't sure that I could handle another dream like that. "No I'm not ok." I started bawling, cuddling into Spencer's waiting arms.

"It'll be fine. Everything will be ok. I'm here." He brushed my hair behind my ears and rubbed my back smoothly.

"What if you had never shown up? What would have happened then?" I wept even harder than before, desperately trying to ignore the pain in my chest. I had to calm myself or my lung would be ruined.

"I don't know, but it doesn't matter. What matters is I did show up, and he's dead. He's not coming back." He continued stroking my hair until I could stop sobbing. Once I had calmed, he walked to my medicine and grabbed me some pills and the oxygen tank. I began feeling better once both were in my system.

"I was so scared. I thought I was going to die. It was.... unexplainable."

"If anyone understands, it's me." He resumed his position underneath me.

"How do you ever get over something like this?" I asked him. He was silent for a long time before he took a deep breath and replied.

"I don't think that you ever really do. But to come to terms with it... takes time. And it takes some help. I'm always here for you." He whispered the last sentence into my ear. Tears welled up in my eyes again, but I had to hold them back in fear that the hole in my lung would expand. "It's ok to cry."

"I know that, but it's too physically painful. I don't want to risk hurting my lung even more. Or my ribs. It hurts."

"Do you want to talk about your dream?" He asked me. I shook my head.

"I don't think I can. Maybe in a few weeks..."

"It's better for the human psyche to discuss a traumatic event rather than keeping thoughts hidden."

"Not now Spence, not right now."

"Right. Got it."
We were quiet for a while. Spencer flipped on the radio and let music flood the room. I instantly felt better.

"We should go back to bed." I said after one song ended and another began.

"Are you sure?" He asked, checking the clock on the table next to us.

"We should at least try."
Spencer leaned back and opened his arms, allowing me to painfully lay into them. For a half an hour I attempted to go back to sleep, but every time I got close to unconsciousness, I was too scared to let myself get any further. Spencer could feel my apprehension.

"So, do you want to watch a movie?" He asked. Thank God for Spencer and his way of dancing around topics.

"Sure."
Spencer put in "Top Hat" with Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire. He certainly knew how to pick a great movie.

The sun was beginning to rise as the movie ended.

"You think the rest of the team's getting ready to head out? I'm sure they are leaving early for a case today." I said to him after a long yawn.

"Maybe. I'm sure we'll get a phone call once they're leaving."

"I think I'm going to try and nap before the day starts. Wake me up if you hear anything." I said, still yawning. It wasn't like me to not be up and starting to get ready by this time, but I was still in too much pain to do much moving around.

"Ok. I'm going to grab some breakfast." Spencer rolled off of the bed and padded into his kitchen where I heard him fumbling around.

I turned over to the other side of the bed and felt myself beginning to fall asleep to the background noise that he was creating. I heard him, somewhat, re enter the room and take a seat on a chair near the bed. I heard the faint sound of an old book binding behind opened before complete unconsciousness took over me.