" i really need that
lipstick, rachel. call me . "

ii. Reckless
2,843 Words

⭓ WASHINGTON, d.c. ≋ 10:55 PM

         JADE'S FINGERS FLEW ACROSS the keyboard with practiced ease, her eyes scanning the screen, completely absorbed in whatever information she was digging through. The laptop hummed softly, its glow illuminating her focused expression as she sat at the kitchen counter. She was supposed to be under surveillance—under his surveillance—but it didn't stop her from bending the rules. After all, she wasn't about to sit idly by when she had pieces to put together.

She didn't flinch when she heard footsteps approaching, nor did she look up. It was almost as if she'd been expecting him.

"Jade—where did you get that?" Spencer's voice cut through the quiet, sharp and controlled. He appeared at her side in an instant, his hand moving with an almost unsettling precision to push the laptop away from her grasp, his touch cool but firm. His eyes flicked to her, narrowing slightly, a slight crease forming in his brow. His posture was tense, and his voice—clinical as always—held the quiet authority that came with his methodical nature. "You're not supposed to be using technology—"

Jade, undeterred, met his gaze with a half-shrug, an almost bored expression playing across her features. Her lips quirked into a faint smirk as she straightened, fully aware of how he would react. "You're doing a really bad job at this whole, watching me thing," she remarked, her voice smooth, almost taunting.

Before he could react, she leaned forward, her hand already reaching for the laptop. But Spencer was quicker. With the fluidity of a practiced professional, he slid it across the counter, out of her reach, his movements effortless, almost instinctual. There was no hint of anger, no frustration—just the cold, meticulous precision that was Spencer Reid.

His gaze flickered to her for a second, taking in her defiant posture. "If you're going to disregard the rules," he said softly, his tone unyielding but calm, "the least you could do is be more discreet about it."

He wasn't angry—he was just... focused. Always hyper-aware, always a step ahead. His mind working, calculating the next move. As much as Jade tried to push his buttons, Spencer didn't seem like one to break, and he certainly wasn't going to let her outsmart him. Not when it came to her safety.

Jade leaned back slightly, her posture relaxed, but her eyes sharp. She tilted her head, voice dripping with casual amusement. "Why would I be discreet? You'd give me the computer if I asked for it."

   Spencer's brow furrowed almost instinctively, his gaze narrowing with a flash of defensiveness. "I would not," he replied quickly, his tone carrying that subtle hint of earnestness that often surfaced when he was certain of something—especially when it came to rules and boundaries.

   Jade's lips quirked into a faint, knowing smile, her eyes glinting with that quiet challenge that she often wore like a second skin. She leaned forward just slightly, her voice smooth but laced with a quiet confidence. "You would."

   Spencer paused, just a beat longer than necessary. His fingers twitched slightly, as if considering how to respond, but his mind was already processing, running through probabilities and outcomes, and he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that, yes—maybe, just maybe, she was right. But he wasn't about to let her have the satisfaction of hearing him admit it.

   Instead, he looked at her.

   Spencer paused, looking at her with a mixture of bemusement and mild exasperation, as if trying to compute her logic. His mind was always running at a mile a minute, but there was something about her that made him pause just a fraction longer. "You're underestimating my resistance to temptation," he replied, more to himself than to her.

His voice held a quiet certainty, the kind that always came when he knew he had the upper hand in a battle of wits.

Jade sighed in mild frustration as Spencer snapped the laptop shut with a quiet click. "God, I don't even need the computer when I have you," she muttered, pushing herself up from the chair. She glanced at him. "As of right now, how far is Washington, D.C. from New Zealand?"

Without skipping a beat, Spencer's mind immediately kicked into gear, his eyes flicking to the corner of the room as he mentally calculated the distance. He tilted his head slightly, adjusting his glasses as he spoke, his voice calm but precise. "The distance from Washington, D.C. to New Zealand, specifically Wellington, is approximately 8,700 miles, or 14,000 kilometers, depending on the route you take. That's assuming you're traveling by plane and taking a direct flight."

He paused, as if considering the question further. "But it can vary slightly depending on wind patterns, flight path adjustments, and the specific city you're departing from."

He said it all in one breath, his tone as factual and detached as ever, his eyes still studying her with that characteristic, almost distant, curiosity. To him, it wasn't a question of why she was asking—just the puzzle of it.

Jade leaned back, watching Spencer as he took the computer from the counter. She crossed her arms and let out a soft breath. "That was a test," she said casually, arching an eyebrow. "You failed." She rolled her eyes, her tone playful but cutting. "Can I at least do something? Anything?"

   Spencer didn't look up from his task, his concentration absolute, as though the world outside of whatever he was working on didn't even exist. His voice, flat and measured, held no room for debate. "You can sleep," he said, delivering the words like a simple fact, the kind of statement he would make about the weather, or the time of day. His tone had that familiar calm precision, a side effect of his analytical mind always trying to create order in a world that didn't make sense.

   Jade huffed, irritation flashing across her face, but she didn't push further. Instead, she followed him out of the kitchen, her footsteps soft on the floor as she entered the living room. She plopped down beside him on the couch, exhaling dramatically, the weight of her frustration and exhaustion hanging in the air. Spencer barely looked at her, but his eyes flickered for a moment before he spoke.

   "It's probably better you rest," he said, his voice calm, almost clinical in its detachment. "Especially for tomorrow. You need to be aware—"

   Before he could finish, he noticed Jade had already shut her eyes, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Spencer paused, his words dying on his lips. He let out a breath and turned his gaze forward, the quiet tension in the room settling between them like an unspoken understanding. His eyes flicked back to her once more, but he didn't say a word. Instead, he just let the silence linger, letting Jade find her peace—however fleeting it may be.

⭓ WASHINGTON, d.c. ≋ 09:10 AM

   Jade jerked awake, the sudden movement making the blanket slip from her lap. Her eyes flickered around the room, bleary but sharp—she had learned a long time ago to keep her guard up, even when exhaustion weighed heavy. The officers were scattered around the room, their presence muted and watchful. Spencer was nearby, standing off to the side, speaking into his phone with his usual clipped, professional tone. It was clear he was dealing with something, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

   She swung her legs over the side of the couch and stood up, the cool air of the room making her shiver slightly. Without a word, she moved toward Spencer, the blanket still trailing behind her. As she neared him, she noticed his distracted expression, his brow furrowed in a way that was distinctly Spencer. When she reached him, she stopped and tilted her head, waiting for him to notice her.

   He finally turned, still holding the phone to his ear, and gave her a distracted glance. "I—uh..." he started, pausing like he was trying to make sense of the conversation on the other end. But Jade wasn't one to let him off easy. She wasn't in the mood for cryptic answers.

   "What's going on?" she asked, her voice a mix of curiosity and exhaustion.

   Spencer opened his mouth, but words didn't come right away. He glanced over at the officers before focusing back on her. "I have to go. Uh... work emergency," he said, looking at the three men standing at attention in the room. His tone was rushed, like he wanted to get the conversation over with. "You're going to have to stay here with... them." He motioned vaguely toward the officers.

   Jade didn't move. "Did they find the girl?" she asked, her voice level, even though she could already tell by his reluctance that he didn't have an answer.

   Spencer hesitated, shifting uncomfortably. She didn't blink, didn't flinch. She just stared at him, waiting. "Spencer doesn't withhold information from me," she said, her tone hard and knowing.

   Spencer shifted, suddenly aware that the conversation had shifted away from small talk. His eyes flicked briefly toward the officers before he finally spoke. "I have to go," was all he said.

   Jade's eyes narrowed, a flicker of frustration crossing her face. She wasn't about to let him off so easily. "Look..." Spencer hesitated again, voice dropping a little lower. "We've got someone who's compliant. Valentina Alma." He glanced at her, almost as if testing her reaction.

   Jade paused, her thoughts already putting the pieces together. "I know of her," she said, the words almost slipping from her lips before she could stop them. "Makes sense... if she doesn't want to get into trouble." She eyed him, her voice lowering slightly. "She's sell-out material."

   Spencer didn't reply right away, and Jade could feel the shift in the air between them. "Just sit tight, don't leave—or anything," he continued, his voice laced with that calm authority. "The officers... they have phones, phone numbers. Kitchen. Call if you need anything." He started to move past her, but she stayed rooted in place, her gaze lingering on him.

   Jade sighed, knowing better than to argue. It wasn't like she had a choice anyway. Spencer was already walking toward the door, his back straight, his movements quick and purposeful. She couldn't do anything to stop him. She watched him go, feeling the weight of his absence settle into the room.

   Turning back to the men, Jade forced a smile. It was nothing more than a mask, and she knew it. "Well," she said, the words dripping with false cheer, "guess I'm stuck here with you guys now." Her eyes flicked to each of the officers, her expression unreadable. They didn't say anything, but their gaze shifted ever so slightly, all of them maintaining their distance—no doubt aware of her volatile presence.

   And for just a moment, Jade wondered what it would take to make them realize that they were no more in control than she was.

⭓ WASHINGTON, d.c. ≋ 11:25 AM

    Jade sat in the living room, the quiet hum of the house pressing against her ears, but she didn't flinch. She was used to silence, used to being alone in a room full of people. After a few moments of stillness, she stood up abruptly, her eyes scanning the room before she made her way toward the stairs.

   One of the officers began to follow her. Jade didn't even spare him a glance.

   "Dude, I'm just going to the bathroom," she muttered, throwing up a hand to stop him. "I'm not up for you watching me." Her voice was flat, but there was a bite to it, and the officer hesitated, clearly unsure of what to do. She rolled her eyes and continued up the stairs without a second glance.

   At the top, she reached the first room she saw and pushed the door open, her eyes scanning it quickly. Clean. Too clean. It screamed "lived in" but in the way someone who didn't want to be found would keep things. No mess. No sign of anyone being comfortable here.

   "He's smart," she muttered, "but so am I."

   She began to look around, her hands moving deftly over the surfaces of the room. She wasn't going to tear it apart—she wasn't some amateur, after all—but she knew better than to let this opportunity slip away.

   After a few moments of searching, her eyes narrowed as she looked down at the floor. Her foot moved over a patch of the carpet before she knelt down, pulling at the corner where the carpet didn't quite match the rest. She peeled it back slowly, revealing a hidden compartment. Inside lay a laptop and a phone. She grabbed both without hesitation, her eyes flicking from one to the other.

   "I'm not going to ask," she muttered to herself, cracking open the laptop.

   As she flipped through the files, it became obvious that Spencer had been using it—too many open windows, too many recent activities. Her gaze flicked over them until something caught her attention: a photo. She leaned in closer, her brow furrowing.

   "Lucinda," she muttered, staring at the picture, the name beside it ringing a faint bell.

   She quickly grabbed the phone, turning it on, then scrolled through the messages. The first one caught her eye:

   "Dove diavolo sei? Elias ti vuole nel suo ufficio entro domani mattina." (Where the hell are you? Elias wants you in his office by tomorrow morning.)

Another from Elias, urgency dripping from the words: "Dove sei? Rispondi al telefono." (Where are you? Pick up the phone.)

   She kept scrolling until one message from Valentina made her pause: "Hey, did I leave a lipstick in your car? It's red?" Jade frowned, tapping her finger on the screen before reading the next one: "I really need that lipstick, Rachel. Call me."

   She sat back, a slow realization creeping in. "Oh..." She thought for a moment, her mind working through the implications.

   Throwing the laptop onto the bed, she stood up, walking briskly toward the closet. Pulling out a random pair of jeans and a long-sleeve shirt, she quickly changed, tossing her dress to the floor. She was about to put on her jacket when she glanced out the window. Her eyes narrowed. There, across the street, sat a police car. Empty.

   She slipped her phone into her pocket, cleared her throat, and headed back downstairs, her pace casual, almost too casual for someone who was about to make a very reckless move. She bumped into one of the officers on her way down.

   "Sorry," she muttered, giving him a fake smile as he barely glanced up before returning to his conversation with the others. She made her way into the kitchen without a word. The officers were too distracted, not nearly as vigilant as they should've been.

   Jade picked up the piece of paper that had been left on the counter, her eyes scanning it before she opened each drawer slowly, her face a mask of annoyance. "Please," she muttered under her breath, finally heading for the back door. She touched the handle, testing it before opening it with a soft click.

   For police officers, they weren't exactly top-tier.

   Her heart picked up pace as she stepped outside. She wasn't a runner, but tonight, she was. She sprinted toward the police car, keys still clutched in her hand from when she'd bumped into one of the officers earlier. With a single fluid motion, she got in, slammed the door shut, and started the engine. Just as she did, the front door opened with a crash, and two officers came running outside, shouting.

   Too late. Jade was already in the car, tires screeching as she tore away from the house.

   She pulled her phone from her pocket, dialing the number on the piece of paper she'd found. Her eyes flicked over it as she drove.

   "Hello?" came the voice on the other end.

   "Is this Agent Morgan? Yeah, hey. Put your damn chief on the line. Now."

   There was a brief silence before she heard the unmistakable tone of Aaron Hotchner's voice on the line.

   "What are you doing right now?" he asked immediately. "You're causing trouble. You're interfering."

   "I'm not interfering. I'm helping you," Jade snapped, her fingers gripping the wheel tighter. "You're all clueless—okay? Where is everyone? Did you meet up with Valentina? And who's Lucinda?"

   Hotchner's tone didn't change. "We're taking care of it—"

   "Agent Hotchner," she shouted over the phone, "Answer me."

   "It's a hostage situation," he responded sharply. "We're not sure, but we think that Lucinda's holding Valentina hostage. Lucinda's our girl."

   Jade's grip tightened on the wheel. "Are you sure about that?"

   "Yes, I am actually."

   "Don't be," she replied coolly. "I'm on my way."

   Before he could respond, she hung up, a grin pulling at the corner of her lips. Reckless? Yeah. But that's who she was.

✸

authors note: hi hi; hope u guys are enjoying. i'm ngl i didn't want this to span out over three chapters but if i haven't split this chapter into two it would've been over 8000 words and i felt like that was just a lot. but i hope you guys enjoy. lmk what you guys think bc i hate ghost readers. love uuu