NINETEEN ; ATTACHMENT IS DANGEROUS.

We beat bomb squad. Morgan and I are going to have to disable it.

Hotch locked his phone, letting a sigh pass through his lips as he received the text from Reid. His eyes went to Quinn who sat at the head of the table with a pen in one hand, staring at records that Garcia had sent over. Her other hand was resting on the table, her finger unconsciously tapping out the one-two-one beat that they all knew so well. That was the only tell Quinn Carson had. The tapping calmed her nerves.

Hotch turned away from her. Quinn had gotten attached to the team quickly; that much was obvious. Aaron was very good at reading people. He knew when they were comfortable, when they were nervous, when they cared about someone. Both Reid and Morgan had become large parts of her new life, and Hotch was able to tell that Quinn was nervous that she was going to have yet another person stripped away from her. He didn't have the heart to tell her that Derek and Spencer now had to dismantle a bomb that they may have been unfamiliar with.

Kate, JJ and Rossi both exchanged a glance with Hotch. They too had gotten the text and they each now began to worry. JJ saw Quinn glance up at them. Spencer had sent the message to everyone but the girl. He did that for a reason. They couldn't tell her. Spencer didn't want her to worry.

They had all noticed the increasing concern that Quinn had for them, and had noticed that they reciprocated the worry. She was slowly becoming apart of their family and everyone had realized it. They also noticed the growing concern that she had for Spencer.

This concern was different though. They had watched the two of them become fast friends. They complimented one another; they each brought the other out of their shell and helped the each other become more comfortable with who they were. JJ even remembered Spencer telling her that, although they knew each other for only a short amount of time, he considered Quinn to be one of his best friends.

But the group noticed that the affection that Quinn had for the team members wasn't the same as she had for Spencer, and vice versa. They seemed to care about each other a lot, Spencer often doing things to make Quinn smile, Quinn going out of her way to make sure that Spencer was happy. Whether or not the two realized it, there was a deeper connection there. A connection that no one else had with each other on the team.

Phones vibrated. This time, all five phones received a message that was from Spencer, telling them that although they did have to disarm the bomb, Morgan had done it, and everyone was okay.

A sigh of relief came from the entire room. They were safe. Quinn smiled to herself, feeling a bit lighter now. The tapping ceased, her mind now able to completely focus on the work before her.

-----

As Hotch, Rossi, Kate and JJ gave the profile to the officers of the Indianapolis station, Spencer and Derek entered the building, each with a smile on their face. Though they knew that they had limited time to figure out what was going on in this city, they couldn't help but revel in the fact that they were alive. This brush with death had finally hit both agents and they were thankful they had the night to recuperate.

They entered the conference room, waving to the four members of the team as they passed by and set their bags down on the chairs that surrounded the table. Morgan leaned against the table and ran a hand down his face. "You as tired as I am?" he asked Spencer, yawning at the end of his phrase.

"Probably even more," the genius replied, eyes flicking about the room. Morgan raised an eyebrow.

"You looking for someone?" he asked him, a fighting a grin that was about to appear on his lips as Derek already knew the answer.

Spencer's gaze fell on his friend and he scowled at him. "Don't," he said simply, brow furrowing, ignoring the soft laughter coming from his teammate. "She's not giving the profile. Where is she?"

"Probably getting coffee, per usual," Morgan replied, standing up and clapping Spencer on the shoulder. "Why? You worried about her?"

"Always," Spencer said absentmindedly, as if it were a known fact. Derek's eyebrows rose again at his statement.

A low chuckle left Morgan. "What? You got a crush on Q?"

Reid's eyes met Morgan's and a fierce blush warmed his entire face. A scoff escaped him as he shook his head. "What? No! Don't make things up like that," he responded. Spencer wasn't believable enough for Morgan, however. He'd made his own assumptions months ago, watching his friend become closer to his new teammate.

"You're not convincing anyone with a protest like that," Morgan muttered.

Spencer huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I don't like her like that way, alright?"

Morgan went to speak, but was unable to make as sound as Quinn Carson entered the room. She grinned as she saw both Morgan and Reid, enveloping her hands into the sleeves of the blue sweater she hadn't taken off since this morning. A soft smile appeared on Spencer's face as he saw his cardigan on her, laughing to himself as he realized she had probably forgotten that she was even wearing it.

"You two," she began, pointing a finger at both of them with an accusing tone, "better never be near a bomb without my permission again. I almost had a heart attack worrying about you."

Morgan beamed at her, nearing her vicinity. "Aw, Q," he teased, "I'm not exactly sure you can control that."

"I don't care," she replied. "You better ask me if it's okay first." She gave Morgan a small hug, grimacing as he ruffled her hair when the two pulled away. "You too," she ordered, eyes now on Spencer. "Permission."

The doctor laughed quietly, uncrossing his arms. "Okay," he agreed, wrapping his arms around Quinn as she hugged his waist.

"Do you promise?" she asked into his chest. She was able to feel his chest rumble as he chuckled. His chin rubbed against her head as he nodded.

"I promise," he told her.

She pulled away from him, looking the genius in the eye. "You can't break it."

Spencer narrowed his eyes at her jokingly. "I have yet to," he countered. "You have little faith in me."

Quinn smiled at him, nose scrunching slightly. Spencer felt gaze on his forehead as he looked down at Quinn. He glanced up, glaring at Morgan who was looking at him blankly, motioning to his two friends.

The rest of the team entered the room soon thereafter. Greetings and hugs were given throughout the group, the seven of them gathering their belongings and leaving the police station, ready to walk back to their hotel. They said their goodbyes and walked through the glass doors, the unexpectedly crisp Indianapolis air greeting them as they exited.

"Was it not sixty degrees a couple of hours ago?" Rossi asked, pulling at his suit coat.

Quinn found herself doing the same, tugging her sweater against her body. Her eyes widened when she finally realized exactly what she was wearing. She turned to her left to see Spencer laughing softly at her, an apologetic look washing over Quinn's face. "I've been wearing this all day," she muttered in disbelief. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," Spencer replied, shaking his head. "I was wondering how long it would take you to notice."

"Way too long," she said. "It's been kind of an off day for me, I'm sorry-"

"Quinn, you've got nothing to be sorry about," he interjected, interrupting her quiet rambling. "Besides, it looks better on you than it does on me." Quinn's cheeks tinted red, something that did not go ignored by the genius. He smiled to himself, shoving his hands into his pockets. Quinn began to shrug the sweater off, stopping as Spencer nudged her with his elbow. "What are you doing?"

"Giving you back your sweater," she responded, furrowing her brow.

Spencer shook his head, waving his hand dismissively. "Just give it back to me later," he said. "I don't need it now."

She squinted at him, eyes falling onto his arms and rolled up sleeves, looking at the gooseflesh that had appeared on his skin. "You sure?"

He followed her eyes to his arms and he shrugged, laughing nervously to himself. "I'm a man. I can handle it." His words were defiant and made Quinn snicker to herself.

"Is that what you are?" she asked, earning another elbow-nudge from the doctor. Her laughter died down and she sighed gently. "Thank you," she said.

Spencer glanced at her, his mouth pulling into a tight-lipped smile. "My pleasure."

-----

The night had come and gone, the entire team each getting the sleep they deserved. Quinn was alerted at breakfast that she was to attend the crime scene with Morgan and Reid. Her calm expression pulled into a confused one.

"Why?" she asked Hotch. "I don't mean to question your choices or anything, but why not have me at the station? We're interrogating Allen Archer today, right?"

Hotch nodded, shrugging at her as he stood up from the table. The team had taken Quinn's thoughts about Allen Archer acting suspicious to heart, adding up everything in their minds and deciding that it was a good time to interrogate him. They believed that he was responsible for the coffee shop bombing. "The four of us believe that we can do it without your expertise." Hotch chuckled to himself. "Kate wants to try everything you taught her in a real life situation."

Quinn smiled, letting out a huff of a laugh and following Hotch as she left the table as well. "Archer's got pretty blatant tells. He's going to be a good test. Kate's becoming worryingly good at it," she joked. "I may be out of a job soon."

"Never," Hotch replied, a small smile appearing on his face. "You'd never not be welcome on this team."

Quinn then began to beam at her leader, ducking her head quickly and nodding. "Thank you."

Hotch grinned at her, returning the nod as the two exited the hotel and diverging into their designated cars. Morgan rolled down his window as Quinn passed their car, sunglasses placed on the bridge of his nose. "C'mon Miss Carson, we ain't got all day," he shouted. Quinn sent a mock glare his way and opened the door to the backseat of the SUV, situating herself as she sat down.

"Good morning to you too," she said to Derek who glanced at her with a large grin through the rearview mirror. "A more pleasant morning to you as well, Spencer," she greeted, smiling at the man who sat in the passenger seat. He returned the smile and turned back to face the road and Morgan began to roll out of the parking lot.

The drive took a short time, the three teammates each riding in a comfortable silence, listening to the news report from a local radio station. The car pulled up to the bomb site, all three doors opening as they exited the car. They flashed their badges at the police officer who stood guard and went under the yellow tape. Morgan grinned as he saw a young woman with a large scarf and knit hat wave at him. Quinn smiled as she greeted the woman, glancing at her badge that said the name Dylan Einstein above Forensic Specialist.

Morgan nodded to the truck and told the girl to look at the bomb that was still attached the the car. Dylan went down on her stomach and looked under the floor of the car, squinting to see the bomb better. "He really went for a bigger boom this time," she said, eyes now wide. Quinn glanced around Allen Archer's truck, looking for any clues as to what had truly happened in the city of Indianapolis.

"I recognize the make-up," Spencer noted. "Ninety-two percent nitroglycerin, eight percent nitrocellulose."

"Straight out of the cookbook," Dylan added, shaking her head and glancing at Spencer.

The genius looked at her. "Good memory."

Quinn climbed up into the trunk of the truck, looking through the various bags Allen kept in the back of his truck. Her eyes flicked from her task to the conversation Reid and the Einstein descent were having.

"I have a thing for numbers," she told him, a soft laugh leaving her lips.

Spencer's eyes traveled down to her badge that hung from the collar-flap of her coat. "And quantum theory," he joked, referencing her passed relative.

Dylan pointed at him as she got the joke and laughed. "Funny," she responded, making a small smile emerge on Spencer's face.

Quinn unconsciously rolled her eyes at the conversation, gaze intently focused on the items in the back of the truck. She paused for a moment as she realized what she had done. Why? What had made her react like that to an innocent conversation in that way?

I smell jealously, a voice sang in the back of her head.

Jealousy? Why on earth would she be jealous?

Morgan's voice snapped her out of her own thoughts. "The UnSub certainly singled Allen out. He could have planted the device in his home, but instead he chose his truck because he wanted to ensure that Allen was the one who triggered it."

"He needed to make sure the hero died," Quinn stated. "Kill the family? They just become martyrs."

Morgan glanced at her in the back of the truck and nodded. He opened the door and slid into the car. "Well, it's a wonder he even realized that he triggered the bomb."

"Maybe he heard something when he stepped on the pedal," Spencer tried, getting into the car as well and sitting behind the wheel.

"What, and knew not to move? Come on, what's this guy got, an ex-paramilitary background that we don't know about?" Morgan asked.

Quinn slid the small, glass window that connected the back of the car to the two seats in the front open. "Grant was," she said, opening her eyes as she remembered the museum-like setup for Brenda Archer's ex-husband. Both Derek and Spencer turned to face Quinn. "Allen's wife's deceased husband. Died in combat."

Spencer smiled at her, mentally applauding Quinn for remembering that fact. "Is it just me or do you find it odd that Allen Archer ended up marrying is best friend's wife?"

"I don't know," Morgan shrugged. "Shared sorrow could build a bond."

"Quinn, JJ and Kate said that the house was like a shrine to the deceased," Spencer noted.

Morgan nodded, taking in the information he had been given. "Well, that would explain why he kept all this stuff out here," he said, motioning behind him to the bags and briefcases that surrounded Quinn. "He feels like he's living in someone else's home. That kind of man would be desperate for recognition."

Quinn watched at Spencer reached into the door's compartment and pulled out a tissue. "He was crying," he observed.

Morgan slid open the tablet that was in his door compartment. "This could be why," he said, holding up an article about the bombing that had just occurred.

"Reliving trauma or feeling guilty about something?" Spencer asked.

"I think we should ask him now," Quinn said, pulling her phone out from her back pocket.

"And his wife," Spencer added, looked back at Quinn. The two made eye contact and she nodded, smiling at him before she sent JJ a text.

"So that's what you guys do," Dylan piped up for the first time in minutes. "You just talk a lot."

The two men glanced at her. "Well, there's also a lot of kicking down doors involved," Morgan responded, shrugging. "And Quinn back there can knock a guy out with one kick. I've seen it myself."

Quinn glanced up from her phone and smiled at Morgan then transferred her eyes to Dylan who was staring at her in surprise. "The poor trainee had no idea what was coming," she told her, shrugging softly.

Dylan laughed slightly. "I'm heading back to the lab," she told them. "I'll let you know what I find."

"Thanks," Spencer replied, watching as the girl fled the scene, moving under the tape. Quinn went back to sorting through the luggage, all attention focused on her task at hand.

Morgan's eyes never left Reid. The genius turned to look at him, brow furrowing as he saw his friend's face. "What?" he asked.

Derek nodded toward the figure of the retreating Forensic Specialist. "She was cute," he noted. Spencer rolled his eyes, sighing sharply. "What? You don't think so?"

"I didn't say that."

"Then what?" Morgan inquired, enjoying how much he was getting on his friend's nerves. Spencer's gaze flicked from in front of him to the rearview mirror where he saw Quinn tuck her hair behind her ear and pull out a dried out stick of deodorant from one of the duffel bags. Her face scrunched up and she tossed the thing away from her, making Spencer chuckle to himself. Morgan's eyes followed to where he was looking. "Is there someone else you've got your eye on?"

Spencer flicked his hair out of his face and stared at Morgan. "I don't know," he said quietly, glancing at Quinn once more. "Maybe."

-----

The three agents had sifted through all Allen Archer had in the back of his truck. They had found multiple books about different types of explosives and how to build them. They had been Brenda Archer's ex-husband's and Allen had digested everything her could about them.

The team had gotten him to confess to the coffee shop bombing. He had planted the bomb there to help become a hero to his wife as he ran in, but didn't plan for the pipeline of the shop to blow up as well. He didn't plan to kill seven people. He only planned to become a hero in the eyes of the public.

Plans of that caliber hardly ever work out.

The bomb under Allen's car was a different story. The man who had bombed the school months ago was back to take revenge on Allen for claiming responsibility for the attack. He had planted it there and had planned to bomb an event that the FBI had orchestrated as a trap for the man.

Their plan had worked (hardly, but it worked) and the BAU team was now allowed to depart for Virginia. The plane had taken off an hour ago and the seven teammates were quiet. JJ had claimed the couch to take a nap in, Kate had a book clutched in her hands, Hotch was reviewing another case file and Morgan was sat upright in his chair with his headphones on and eyes sealed shut. Rossi and Spencer had talked for a couple of moments, addressing the ongoing chess game situation that Spencer was having with the ghost of his old friend.

Quinn however, was writing. She was curled up in the far end of the plane, alone in her chair, horizontal from Rossi and Spencer. She had snagged a notepad from the police station and had taken the liberty to get back into her old habits. There was nothing she loved more than the English language and reading what people could create with it, but she also loved crafting her own creations. When she studied at Stanford years ago, she wrote everyday.

Quinn only hoped she could fall into that normalcy again.

Her eyes fell on Rossi and Spencer as the older man let out a large groan. Spencer had a small smirk on his face, one that would become a smile if he didn't keep up his facade. "That's impossible," Rossi muttered.

"Not impossible," Spencer replied, shrugging. "I just did it and won."

Rossi narrowed his eyes at Reid. "Now don't sound so cocky, there Genius." Spencer smiled at him, glancing over at Quinn who had returned to her notepad. Rossi looked in Quinn's direction as well and smirked slightly, eyes traveling back to Spencer. "Quinn," Rossi said, soon meeting eyes with the girl. "You want to play?"

Quinn's eyes widened and she opened her mouth and quickly closed it. "I, uh-"

"C'mon, take my place," he told her, urging her to sit in the seat he had just gotten up from. Quinn pursed her lips and moved them to the left of her mouth before shrugged. She closed the pad, placing her pencil down on top of it.

Rossi patted her on the shoulder as the two passed each other and Spencer raised his eyebrows as Quinn sat down. "You don't have to play if you don't want to," he said to her.

Quinn shook her head, folding her hands together on top of the table. "No, no. I want to play. I'm like, super good."

"Really?" Spencer asked, seeming surprised.

Quinn let out a small snicker and shook her head. "No. I have no idea how to play this, please teach me," she begged, laughing as she finished her words. Spencer chuckled as well, grinning at the girl across from him and nodding.

"Okay, okay," he agreed, leaning in closer and beginning to teach her about the game of chess. "These right here, are your pawns. You have the most pawns on the board, but you must use them wisely."

And that was how they finished the night. The plane flying high in the sky, a burst of laughter coming from the corner of the jet each time Quinn screwed up, Spencer feeling his sudden affection grow deeper and deeper for the girl he once knew as a criminal.

-----

I AM SO TIRED I DONT FEEL LIKE WRITING A NOTE BUT I WANT YOU ALL TO KNOW HOW GRATEFUL I AM FOR 10K READS ON THIS THING AND FOR ALL OF THE RECENT FEEDBACK YOU GUYS HAVE GIVEN ME. WRITING THIS IS AN ACTUAL DREAM AND I CANT WAIT FOR YOU TO SEE WHAT I HAVE PLANNED NEXT I AM SO EXCITED TO GET TOWARDS THE END !!!

love you all tons!
-mags