— Wait, did I kiss you?

Embarrassment covered Spencer's face, and the concern on his face manifested itself as fast as a plague.

Maeve grips the boy's shoulder anxiously.

— Spence, You okay?

The aforementioned just nods his head repetitively.

Spencer took his time to return to the position, since he did not process said information, not being able to remember something worried him, especially if it was an action of his that he could not remember. The doctor found himself in the situation of telling Maeve, more specifically, his mother, about his life. It wasn't the kind of secret Maeve shouldn't find out about, but Spencer never entertained the idea of talking about it to the girl.

Maeve's suspicions were nothing more than a concern in the girl's life, as Reid's lack of temporary memory was due to a mishandling of alcohol with Spencer's pills in his genes; But Spencer didn't have schizophrenia.

Maeve was silent as she listened to Spencer speak, without interrupting him, more time passed than expected. She didn't know how to comfort people, and she couldn't find the words to say to Spencer after providing this information. The girl just kept silent and tried to express her empathy while being present hoping that would be enough, being interrupted by Elle calling the girl when it was time to go to bed.

They both went to their respective rooms with their companions and slept, or at least Spencer partially slept, since his mind kept thinking of Maeve. Now he could understand her different behavior. He wasn't sure what time it was, but he was awake again about to knock on the door of the room shared by Maeve and Elle.

— Reid.

The boy turns in horror when he hears the voice behind him. Gideon was with a mug in hand. Neither of them seemed to have slept.

— What are you doing up, Kid?

The boy backs down the hall and points to the girls' door.

— I think Maeve stole my headphones again. — He lies.

Gideon glanced at the door and then at the boy, Sipping the caffeine in his mug detecting the lie.

— It's midnight.

—There's a podcast... that I listen to, before I sleep, and I don't want to bother Morgan with my noise, so I wanted to make sure that Maeve-

—  Maeve what? — Maeve asks, appearing behind Gideon.

— Thanks for the coffee, Hunter. — He says looking at the girl and she smiles drinking from her own cup.

It turns out that Maeve couldn't get to sleep either, she knocked on Gideon's door and offered to spend the night drinking coffee in the lobby, which they did. The girl had that charm of curiosity that fueled Gideon's need to want to get to know her better.

— Maeve. — Her name leaves Spencer's mouth in a whisper.

Gideon looks at both of them.

— Maeve. — Gideon says this time.— I think you have a thing for Spencer. — Knowing that his words were lies he couldn't resist bringing it up.

The girl didn't know what they were talking about.

— I can talk to Maeve ?— His gaze seemed to beg Gideon to leave them alone, and he nods. He ruffles Maeve's hair before leaving and she just laughs.

— What do I have?— Maeve asks.

— Oh, no...it's nothing. I-i wanted to talk to you. —Maeve sips her coffee calmly as she looks him square in the eye. Spencer wasn't clear on what he wanted to express, making him feel nervous and the brunette's look didn't help to calm him down. — I-i... Give me that, I need it more than you.

Spencer snatches the mug from Maeve's alien hands, to take a long drink of her coffee.

— My coffee...

— We have to talk about the kiss. —Says decided.— I don't remember it, but you do.

— Yeap. — Maeve scratched the back of her neck, which is not what she expected him to say.

— Maeve. I apologize for what I said or did. I was...in a state of consciousness, but I forgot the events of that night, not entirely. Partially.

— Spencer, remember when I shot you I was apologizing and saying it wasn't necessary? It's the same, you shouldn't apologize. I understand.

— You and i..?

— Oh, No. Of course not.

Spencer sighed in relief.

— So what did I do?

— Do you want me to be explicit?

— Please.  — Spencer's fingers played with the handle of the mug, trying to break the tension in his body.— I would appreciate every detail.

— Okay. — Maeve didn't have the eidetic memory of genius, but she could remember that night in better detail than her favorite song.— You wanted to play poker and you insisted on not letting me sleep on the couch that night.

— I sleep on the couch?

— You slept next to me in bed. Before that, you hinted at wanting to kiss me. — Spencer's face sank in self-embarrassment, but Maeve had already forgotten her embarrassment and had fun telling the story.— You said you wanted more than one actually.

Maeve thought it was funny, or at least it was until Spencer added:

— And you kissed me without question?

It is then the first moment where Maeve realizes that it was not Spencer who kissed her and she received the kiss. She remembers Spencer speaking very close to her mouth and her breaking away from them both. The girl's smile had faded. She kissed him.

The roles have changed. Maeve feels awkward remembering that moment, and Spencer can tell, because now she was the one embarrassed and he was trying not to smile.

— You kissed me. — She tries not to be the overwhelmed one this time.— You bit my lip until it bled and then...you kept doing it.

Spencer looks at the other's lips, the lower lip seemed to have the skin slightly raised.

— I thought you were biting your lips and that's why you had it like that...

— You did it.

Spencer rubs his face with the free hand that wasn't holding the coffee, it was a humiliating night for him, in an act of clumsiness he drops his glasses. Maeve bends down to pick them up.

— Forgive me , Hunter. — It was one of the few times that he called her by her last name.

— That's pkay.

— Maeve. —Spencer's eyes focused on the cut on the brunette's lip.

— Yes?

— Can I kiss you?

Déjà vu.

Spencer's glasses fall from Maeve's hands at that question. She thought it was a joke these being the exact words he said that night.

— You said the same thing that night. — She whispers.

— Sorry. — Spencer has just realized what he's doing and steps back. Maeve picks up the glasses again and places them in his hands.— Thanks.

— I think... —Maeve leaves the word hanging and points to the bedroom door. Right next to it was the one he shared with Morgan.— We should sleep.

Spencer nods and heads for the door, setting the cup down next to an accent table in the hallway.

— Spence. — Call this one before opening the door.— I have a question.

Again the boy nods for her to continue, feeling somewhat exhausted, he drops the weight of his body against the wall.

— What If... I kissed you now ? Would you push me away? —The boy gets up quickly when he hears her question, Maeve approaches the other person's door to be closer.

It took him a while to answer what Maeve assumed she shouldn't have asked then, she looks away.

— Of course not.  —He answers as fast as he can.

— Okay.

Maeve removes the glasses from Spencer's hands and raises her feet on her toes, so she can be level with him. Spencer looks at her eagerly with the idea that he could kiss her, but she just pushes the glasses up to his face, which disappoints the boy a bit.

As her feet feel the ground again, she raises them once more, where her face could meet at the same height as Spencer's.

The girl gives a brief kiss on his lips. A couple of seconds was barely the duration, a superficial kiss. When she is trying to get away from him, she notices that Spencer is holding her by her waist.

— I will not forget this. —He said.— Actually it couldn't. Eidetic memory has a greater power in actions done by the person himself, it is more repellent to sounds and words, with actions I can remember fragments as if they were the product of precinematography.

It's not uncommon for Reid to provide information that most often don't know.

Maeve smiles tenderly as she listens to him. She couldn't resist the urge to attack his lips again. Being this more surprising for Reid, but his hands acted before his lips, they traveled to Maeve's cheekbones holding them, Spencer opens his mouth a little giving way to the girl's upper lip, neither seemed to want to move away from the other even to breathe .

A tear slides over Spencer's thumb, spilling out as her body protesting the oxygen, pulling away a few inches. Maeve's breathing is ragged, her cheeks and the bridge of her nose a cherry color. Spencer had a similar blush on his face, but his caused by embarrassment, however, his shyness had disappeared when he tried to get closer to her alien face again.

The front door opened, bringing out a sleepy Morgan rubbing his eyes. Maeve pushes Spencer away, she had covered her face so he couldn't perceive her blush.

Spencer's heart was pounding waiting for the agent to react.

— I didn't see you in bed and I got worried.— Morgan yawns.— Something wrong?

— Maeve. She-She needed my help. — Spencer was trying to quickly formulate a lie, but he's shown to lack that ability.— Needed...a tampon.

Maeve herself turns to look at him with a face of disbelief..

— Are you okay, Pretty girl?

Luckily for both of them, Morgan was exhausted, so he didn't pay much attention to the conversation.

The girl nods and goes to her room without saying goodbye to anyone, Morgan just shrugs and Spencer walks in behind him to go to bed that night.

The next morning they are woken up by Hotch with the new information provided by García from Virginia, If Maeve's hypothesis seemed to be correct there is someone covering up tracks in every scene.

—It's not Robbie. — Maeve excuses herself when she sees how he was now part of the investigation.

No one supported her this time. She tried to find support by looking into Morgan's eyes but he just lowered his head from her.

Spencer looked at her co-workers doubtfully before placing the aforementioned photograph on the blackboard, it is Elle who encourages him to do so.

— Robbie is not a bad guy. — Refused to believe it.— I get that his job is to profile people, but I've known Robbie for three fucking years, dammit. I know him better than you

Discrepancies were normal within a team, as were discussions. But Maeve was only arguing for herself, because no one was trying to make her change her mind, but her faith in that man was not enough to assure her that he was not related to what was happening.

Maeve sighed at the weight of arguing with a wall, and took a seat, letting her guard down.

— Hotch. — Elle said.— Gideon and I will go to the station. We'll see if the sun brought some new information with the officials. We'll go get the things Maeve will need for tomorrow too.

Hotch nodded, while the pair left the room remained silent. Morgan taps Reid on the shoulder, signaling for Reid to follow him and he did.

The only two present in the room now being: Maeve and Hotch.

The man continued going through the rest of the papers on the table, organizing them and reviewing their information, as if he were alone in the place, Maeve just watched what he did and they were like that for the next twenty minutes.

— You're doing it wrong

Hotch looks up at the girl without understanding what she meant. She leans across the table, looking at some of Robbie's collected data, including his home address.

— It's fake. — She points to the writing on the paper. Take a pencil and cross out the words.— It is the house of a nursing home that coincidentally bears his last name.

Hotch looks at her raising an eyebrow and she shrugs.

— Robbie always puts that address. —Maeve lets out a sigh and this time moves closer to Hotch.— Here. — She points with the pencil.— He lives in his mother's old house, it's on the opposite end of town.

— You really know him. —It's the first thing he says and she nods. —You did know that his real name is not Robbie, right?

— Yeah, I know it. 

— How did you meet him?

— His mother had died when we met. — Maeve was hesitant to speak, knowing she could say something that they can use against Robbie, however, maybe if they knew the boy she knows they would understand.— I had nowhere to sleep and he had plenty of space, after a few weeks we were already ...

— Falling in love?

— Dating.

— Isn't it the same?

— I love him. —She takes it back, noting that she is speaking in the present tense.—I loved Robbie, Okay?  I still love him, But never...in a romantic way, Wasn't before, isn't now.

Hotch puts the papers aside, feeling interested.

— Why were you together?

— Is it a kind of therapy? — She denied letting out a giggle, but kept answering.— It was easy to be with him.

Maeve fiddled with her nails, somehow feeling that by exposing her history with Robbie she felt she had betrayed him. But Hotch watched over her safety as well as anyone else's. Things between Maeve and Hotch have been calm, no offensive jokes, no dirty looks, it was a clean slate, despite that they didn't usually spend much time together.

However, Hotch knew things Maeve didn't.

And it is the first time now that he looks at her in a different way knowing the true story, Maeve was a victim in his eyes, he sees her now more unprotected than ever.

— Hunter. There's something you have to know-

Morgan and Reid arrive with coffee for the four of them, interrupting his words.

— You two alone and you haven't killed each other. I'm proud.—  Morgan says.

Maeve whispers 'thank you' as Spencer brings her favorite coffee, Hotch declines coffee this time and the two agents take their seats enjoying glazed donuts.

— He's my bestie now. — Maeve says with obvious sarcasm. — Wait.  Were you about to say something to me, Hotch?

— Uhm. Your boots. — She looks down at her feet.— You soiled the rug. Clean it up.

— But I haven't even been out...

— Besties, Sure. —  Morgan says. — Wait a minute. I thought I was your best friend.

Maeve looks over at Spencer who is sipping his coffee.

— Reid is my best friend, actually.

Spencer moves the paper cup away from his lips and offers the girl a smile.

Morgan punches Spencer in the shoulder.

— I'm your best friend, pretty boy, Not her.

Hotch stifles a laugh, but Maeve can hear the nasal snort.

— Hey I thought Hotch was incapable of laughing.— The girl comments mockingly, taking a bite of her donut.— It's so cliché that we're having this for breakfast.

— Hunter, we're not cops, I already told you. —  Morgan says.

— In theory, an FBI agent has the same functions and obligations as a detective, except that we do have a legal use of weapons, which inclines us more to a police field if we take into account the number of crimes and murders that we solve, We're sort of absurdly up to the task cops, Maeve isn't so far wrong.

The girl smiles at the information provided and Morgan rolls his eyes.

— Maeve, you don't even know anything about being a cop. — Morgan insisted on not being one of them.

— I watched every season of B99.

— What's that? — Hotch asks.

— Her favorite show. — Spencer answers to him.— She recorded all the seasons on my TV and had me watch them while I was still in recovery.

— I think I've seen it.— Hotch tries to remember if he really knows about the show.

— I don't remember forcing you, Spencer. Also, B99 is a great show. Set in New York, by the way, that makes it even better, it's like watching the news but with humor.

— Admit that you like detective peralta and that's why you watch the series — Spencer says/

— Jealousy?— She inquires with amusement.

— No. — Spencer cringes in his seat.

— If Spencer was a character, he would be Amy. — Morgan saw a great similarity and that's why he said it.

Everyone in the room laughs in agreement and Spencer just shakes his head.

— Who would you be, Morgan?

— Rosa díaz, Obviously

— Out of all the characters...—Spencer turns to look at him.— do you choose to be a female?

— Hey, I won't let you talk bad about Rosa in my presence, she's the best character.

Maeve watches the friends chat with a smirk.

— I actually think Hotch would be Rosa. —All three turn their heads to the older one and agree with Maeve's comment.— They are both very expressive.

They all burst out laughing, including Hotch, although he still wasn't sure what program they were talking about.

— Which would be Hunter?

Spencer seems to analyze Morgan's question as he becomes thoughtful analyzing the girl. He catches a glance with Morgan and they both respond in unison:

— Jake.

— We are working and you making jokes?— Elle interrupts the shared laughter when she entered with Gideon. —Next time Morgan will go and I'll stay.

— Maeve. This is what you will wear tomorrow. —Gideon hands the plastic bag to the girl.

Tomorrow will be Halloween, the event to which Robbie invited the girl, they had agreed that she would attend on behalf of the team so as not to arouse suspicion, Morgan and Reid would keep company in case she needed help.

For the first time since they have arrived at the place they have a little free time. Elle insists on the idea of taking them to the bar that she went with Morgan the other night. While Gideon was opposed to the idea of going, since they kept in turn, Elle clarifies that they will go at nightfall.

At nightfall the group gathers at the bar, taking a seat at one of the round tables in the background with dim lighting.

To everyone's surprise it was karaoke night, so the team enjoyed the good show that the others put on, laughing at each performance.

Morgan gets up to get the drinks, Maeve offers to help him, and Spencer joins them.

Maeve takes the beer out of Spencer's hand and she looks at him with a raised eyebrow.

— I'm not taking pills, relax. — ARaise your voice so that I can hear you through the music. She hesitates a bit and then hands him the bottle again, she knows that he won't drink any more from that bottle, so she's calm. he heads to the table carrying his and Gideon's drinks to the table.

— Pretty girl You help me?

Maeve insists on making Morgan wait at the bar and taking the drinks to Hotch and Elle, when she returns Morgan looked at her curiously because he knew that if she wanted to push him away, she wanted to tell him something.

— I will be honest. — Maeve sips her cocktail.— Spencer has told you about me? like, you know.

Morgan pretends not to understand while drinking his vodka.

— No. The truth is that no. —Maeve makes a little pouty face.— But why you ask, Kid?

— Nothing.

— I saw you kissing Spencer the other night.

Maeve's mouth opened in such surprise that she almost swallowed the little umbrella in her glass.

— D-did you see that? Morgan I'm so sorry, I swear I meant to go to your door and kiss him, it's just-

— Wait, wait, wait, what are you talking about?

— About the kiss I gave him last night, what the hell are you talking about?

— You guys kissed last night!?

Maeve covers his mouth with her hand.

— Shut up.

Morgan forces her to remove her hand and now whispered.

— I was talking about the kiss on the cheek that you gave him on his birthday. Elle and I saw you, and it turns out that you guys really kissed!?

— Shut the fuck up, Please.

Morgan was trying to process the data.

— When you lived together... you... you know.

Maeve took a long swallow of her drink, not breathing which made Morgan hesitate.

— Hunter...

— No. — She screeches overwhelmed.— But...

— But what?

— I had a dream...—The girl looks behind her to make sure the team wasn't nearby.— With Spencer.

— A dream about what? —Morgan's question was innocent until he saw the blush on the girl's cheeks.— Shit...Shit...Spencer...Spencer Reid? A dream with that Spencer?

— If you want, I'll pass you the microphone because I think they didn't hear you, huh.

— I'm surprised.

— Swear you won't tell anyone.

Maeve forced him to keep the secret, not even Elle had to tell him, but Morgan itched to drop that bombshell, he kept throwing mischievous looks at both of them, looks that at least Spencer didn't understand.

—Who's next?— Asks the DJ.

— Maeve. — Morgan said.—You have good taste in music. Maybe you should go up.

There was no need to insist, before he could notice it she was already on stage.

— You need a partner. — The DJ answers before giving to her the microphone.

The girl speeds down in search of a mate and everyone present assumed she would take Morgan up there. But before anyone could say anything Hotch was already on stage, looking at Maeve not quite sure of the situation and she insisted that she choose a song.

Maeve has classical tastes so she assumed that no matter which song he chose, she would know it for sure.

But the team was gaping at them, because not in a million years would they have thought to see Aaron Hotchner sing love is an open door from frozen. much less that he would choose the song.

— I must record this for García...