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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO:
you're making me feel fucking
crazy!
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Finally, the time had come. Lizzie was back at work, giving it her all on every case. Much had happened within her first few weeks back, like being shot at by a madman with a gun—which just about made her father keel over, having already being worried about Lizzie being back in the field. But, no one was hurt and she was perfectly fine. And the cases kept coming, rolling by so quickly that eventually, Lizzie had almost forgot she had ever been on sick leave. And everyone treated her like she was more than able to do her job, which she appreciated, instead of being babied. Plus, she was almost coming to the end of her therapy sessions with Dr. Martin, which was a huge relief.

The team were in Arizona, following a kidnapping. They were closing in on their man—Jason Fitzgerald, a local man who's trigger had been his wife having an affair with his best friend. Enraged, he had took their daughter in the middle of the night and ran away with her. The mother, Isabelle, had been hysterical, knowing that her husband was mentally unstable and had been in jail before, making him unreliable. But the evidence proved that he loved his daughter and would do anything for her—he wouldn't hurt her intentionally. But if there was the chance she could be taken away from him again, there was no saying what he could do. He could very well take them both out just to keep them together.

The FBI were parked on a road in the middle of the desert in a road-block. They had found out where Jason was headed and they had cornered off his only route out of the State. The road was lined with the local police force along with the FBI, their flashing lights lighting up the area.

Lizzie stood beside her father, tucked behind the passenger side door, her gun cocked over the top. The Arizona heat was burning down on the top of her head, her eyes blocking the sun with her blacked-out sunglasses, "How long now?" She asked, glancing to her father who stood in the same stance beside her, his own gun cocked over the top of the door.

"Not long now." He said, not once taking his eyes off the road where they knew Jason would be coming down from.

"Incoming!" One of the officers yelled and Lizzie perked up, seeing the Cadillac speeding down the road towards them, kicking dirt and sand up beneath it.

Lizzie straightened up as she watched the car slow down as Jason noticed the barricade in front of him, "Remember, he has a child. We have to try and talk him down. We can't afford him getting agitated and putting her in danger!" Lizzie reminded the police force and her fellow FBI agents. She glanced across at the car beside them, giving Spencer and Emily a quick nod.

One of the police officers walked up to them, handing Hotch a megaphone, "Jason Fitzgerald!" He boomed, "We have you surrounded. We know you have Daisy with you and we don't want to hurt either of you. Please, exit the vehicle calmly and put your hands on the hood!" When Jason made no show of doing as he was being told, Hotch repeated, "Jason, get out of the car and put your hands on the hood of the car! Don't make this harder for yourself!" Lizzie exchanged a glance with her father when the drivers door was kicked open, revealing Jason who was dragging his nine-year-old daughter out of the car with him.

             Jason put a gun to his daughters head who was crying hysterically, her hair in bunches with little red-ribbons, "Back up or I'll shoot her!" He ordered, giving her a rough shake.

              "You don't have to do that, Jason!" Emily called out to him, "Let your daughter go and we'll make sure you can see her again! We just need you to let her go!" She ordered, her gun also cocked at him, prepared to take the shot if needed—they were all prepared to shoot. A young girls life was at risk and they were all confident enough in their aim that they could strike him without hurting her. They just didn't want it to come down to that.

                  "Like hell I will! No one is taking her from me again!" Jason yelled back, tears in his eyes as he held onto his daughter, the gun pressed against her temple as she sobbed in his arms.

                   Lizzie clenched her jaw and then slipped her gun into the back of her jeans, walking around the side of the car with her hands in the air, fully exposing herself, "Lizzie? What are you doing?!" Her father yelled after her, firmly planting his gun on Jason, more prepared to shoot than ever now that his daughter was in the way.

                     "Jason, I understand that you're scared, okay? But you love Daisy and you'd never want to hurt her, right?" She calmly called out to him as her team stiffened, visibly fearing for her life. This hadn't been the first time they had noticed this kind of behaviour from Lizzie since she came back from medical leave—it was as if she was more careless with her life and everyone had picked up on it. But in the end, she always brought the bad guys in and she was okay. But that didn't mean they hadn't noticed the change.

                     "She's my baby girl! I'd never hurt her!" Jason cried, tears streaming down his ageing face.

                    "Then what do you think you're doing to her right now?" Lizzie asked, giving a nod to Daisy who was sobbing hysterically in her fathers arms, "Jason, she's scared. You're scaring her. If you don't let her go now, she might never forgive you. But if you do let her go, she'll remember how much you loved her and she'll forgive you, okay? You just have to let her go. Keep her safe, Jason. Let her go." Lizzie softly urged, getting closer to the pair.

                    Jason looked like he was contemplating it before he allowed his arm to fall limp at his side as he released his daughter, pushing her towards Lizzie who opened her arms for her, "I love you, Daisy! Daddy loves you so much!" Jason exclaimed as the girl shuffled towards Lizzie, still sobbing. Jason rose the gun, gesturing with it, "I love—" the shot echoed out before anyone could expect it and Lizzie jumped in fright, turning back to see one of the police officers with smoke coming out of his gun.

                 Jason hit the ground from behind Lizzie and her eyes widened, "What the hell did you do?!" She exclaimed at the officer who was lowering his gun, his hands visibly shaking.

                  "I thought—I thought he was raising his gun again! I thought—"

                 "You idiot!" Lizzie yelled at him, not noticing Jason slowly getting back up, raising his gun with his face darkening.

                   "Lizzie!" Spencer yelled in warning, moments before the shot went off, smacking into Lizzie's back and sending her onto the dirt beneath her. Within a second, before Jason could let off anymore shots, Hotch had put a bullet between his eyes and his body hit the ground.

                "Liz!" Hotch exclaimed, running around the car towards his daughter who was on her stomach, groaning in pain, her face screwed up. He grabbed onto her, turning her onto her back, his eyes wide with panic, "Liz—Lizzie, are you alright?" He demanded as the rest of the team crowded around, Emily scooping Daisy up into her arms.

                   Lizzie let out a shaky breath, "It got my vest," She said, gesturing to her back and Hotch lifted her up slightly to make sure she was right—and she was, the bullet was embedded in her FBI bullet-proof vest. Realising her father was still panicked, Lizzie grabbed onto him, "Dad, I'm fine. I'm okay."
She assured him, sitting up a little more, trying to catch her breath.

                   "Get medical out here, ASAP!" Spencer yelled back to the police force who did as they were told, quickly calling dispatch for an ambulance.

                   "Is Daisy okay?" Lizzie asked, glancing around her until Emily stepped into view, holding the little girl who clung to her.

                   "She's alright. Good job, Liz." Emily said, rubbing at the little girls back, trying to comfort her.

                   Hotch grabbed onto his daughter, "What the hell were you thinking? That wasn't in the brief—"

                  "We saved her, didn't we?" Lizzie spoke over him, looking into his eyes and Hotch blinked back.

                  "At what cost?" He questioned, his gaze falling back to where Jason's body lay and Lizzie squirmed.   

                   "He was surrendering. He would have surrendered if that douchebag didn't—"

                   "It doesn't matter now, Liz," Hotch interrupted her, heaving out a sigh. He rubbed at her back, "Are you sure you're alright?" He asked her for confirmation because something in her eyes looked strange. She didn't appear to be afraid—not in the way she had been all those weeks ago in that tape he had watched when a madman had tortured her. It seemed like she didn't feel fear anymore.

                   "I'm fine, really." She assured him, giving a firm nod of her head.

                 The ambulance arrived shortly after and Lizzie was checked over whilst Jason's body was put in the back, wrapped in a black-bag. The EMT had told her she was alright and didn't need to go to hospital, that she should just take some painkillers to stop the swelling and help with the pain of the bruising that would soon form. Lizzie had thanked them and got back in the SUV whilst they drove back to the police station, sitting in silence.

                 There was some paperwork they had to fill out before they could head back home. Once they were finished, Lizzie had headed back to her hotel room, gathering up her belongings and preparing herself for their flight home. She had hopped in a shower, careful to massage at the bruising that had began to form on the back of her shoulder. It had hurt but she hadn't minded it—not when a man was dead. There were worse outcomes than a little pain.

               Lizzie had been out of the shower for twenty-minutes and she had dressed herself comfortably for the journey home—a white tank top and grey sweatpants. She had been packing the last of her things, her hair damp at her shoulders when someone began urgently knocking on the door, like they were in some kind of rush.

               Lizzie approached the door, "Alright, I'm coming!" She exclaimed in annoyance at the loud thumping before unlocking the door. She had barely opened it before Spencer came barrelling in, still wearing the same white shirt as earlier, only his brown tweed vest was undone and the first few buttons of his shirt was loose too.

                   "Hello to you too." Lizzie grumbled, giving him a playful smile—but Spencer didn't appear to be in the playful mood.

                   "What the hell was that today?" He demanded, his brows etched together as he paced back and forth.

                   Lizzie blinked, "What're you talking—"

                  "You know damn well what I'm talking about, Liz!" Spencer yelled at her, making her blink back further in surprise. Spencer had hardly ever raised his voice to her—so when he did, it was incredibly surprising and she didn't know how to handle it properly.

                 "You mean with the case? I—I don't know what to say to you, Spence, other than it's over—"

                "Do you know what else was almost over, Lizzie? Your life!" Lizzie couldn't help but roll her eyes at his dramatics. Her threw his hand out at her, "I mean it! That shit you pulled today almost got you killed!" He exclaimed, his voice breaking, eyes wide and it looked like he had been crying.

                 "It was a shoulder hit, Spencer!" She retaliated, making him reel back, putting his hands on his head in disbelief, "It was a freaking shoulder hit! And my vest protected me! I don't see what the big deal is—"

                "You don't see what the big deal is?"
Spencer questioned, laughing in disbelief, pinching at his nose. He crossed the room, stopping right in front of her and she blinked back at how close he was, "The big deal is—you've had some kind of death wish since you came back from medical leave!" He yelled at her.

                This time it was her turn to laugh, "A death wish? Come on, Spence. Are you even hearing yourself right now?" She asked him, raising her eyebrows, smiling slightly, trying to diffuse the situation with a smile.

                 "I mean it, Liz! I've lost track of the amount of times you've been shot at these few weeks! And you don't even blink, you don't even react—"

                  "That's because it's my job!" Lizzie exclaimed, throwing her hands up, her patience wearing thin.

                  Spencer got closer to her face, "Putting your life on the line at every chance you get is not your job!" He argued, "Do you even realise you're doing it? Do you even realise how you're making everyone feel? How you're making Hotch feel? How you're making me feel?" He questioned, his voice raised, face lowered to hers.

                   "And how am I making you feel, Spencer?" Lizzie challenged, narrowing her eyes.

                 "You're making me feel fucking crazy!" He yelled at her and she hesitantly took a step back at how loud his voice was but he only took a step closer to her, "Do you even know how I'd feel if I—if I lost you? Do you even realise how much you mean to me, huh? Tell me, Lizzie, tell me if you know how much—"

                "Spencer, stop it—"

                Spencer grabbed onto her shoulders, shaking her, "I'll stop once you tell me that you know what you're doing," He said, giving her a shake, "Tell me you understand that I'd lose my mind if anything ever happened to you! Because I would, Liz! I'd go insane if anything happened to you!" He yelled at her as her eyes began to burn, feeling the pressure of their argument building in her chest.

                 Lizzie threw her hands up, the frustration at it's boiling point, "Why?!" She exclaimed, her voice breaking.

                  "Why?" Spencer repeated, blinking back in surprise that she didn't understand why something like that would destroy him, "Why?" He asked again in a harder tone as they both stared at each other, their chests rising and falling at a quick pace, their eyes locked on each other, glancing back and forth.

                  Spencer didn't double-think what he did next. Instead, he reached out, grasping each side of her face with both hands before crashing his lips against hers. Lizzie gasped against his mouth, stumbling back slightly but she grabbed onto him with the same neediness he had, gripping onto both of his wrists as she kissed him back.

                  Spencer kissed her like he needed air and she was the source of oxygen and it made her head spin. One of Spencer's hands moved to the back of her head, tangling up in her wet hair and pulling her closer to him—needing her to be closer. Lizzie pushed her body against his, leaning herself on her tiptoes to kiss him back as desperately as he was kissing her. Lizzie felt like her entire insides were on fire. She had wanted this for so long with Spencer, she had just been too afraid to admit to it before. And it was the first thing that had made her feel alive in weeks.

                  Lizzie found her hands gripping at his biceps before moving inwards to grasp at his vest, sliding it off his arms and he allowed her to do it willingly. Her hands then moved to the buttons on his shirt, hastily attempting to unbutton those that were still buttoned up, gasping with need against his mouth which only made him moan against her lips—and god damn, she hadn't known how much she would enjoy that sound.

                  Lizzie found herself pushing him back towards the bed she had attempted to make-up earlier, taking the lead. She pushed him back until he fell against the bed on his back and Lizzie stared down at him, her eyes glazed over as she looked at the last two buttons on his shirt, exposing his slender stomach. Spencer was panting hard, staring at her, watching her every move. She reached down, taking the hem of her top before pulling it over her head and tossing it to the floor, standing in her black sports bra whilst Spencer licked his lips.

                 Lizzie crawled onto his lap, lowering her face to kiss his neck whilst her fingers hastily undone the last two buttons. She pushed his shirt aside, trailing her kisses down to his stomach and she smiled against his skin when he inhaled sharply at the sensation, moments before he sat himself up, capturing her lips in another desperate kiss, hands tangling in her hair, tugging and pulling.

                 Lizzie found herself grinding on his lap as she kissed him, her hands pushing his shirt down his arms so she could grip at the skin on his back. She could feel his back muscles move as he kissed her, his arms roaming through her wet hair. Lizzie had never wanted anything more than Spencer in that moment—her body craved him in a way it had never craved another person. But she wanted to make sure he was on the same page.

                 She pulled back, breathlessly leaning her forehead against his, feeling the tendrils of his hair touching her skin, "Are you sure about this?" She whispered, pulling back slightly to look into his brown puppy-dog eyes that were staring back at her, unblinking and half-shut.

                  "I—I do, I just..." He trailed off, gnawing at his bottom lip.

                  "You just what?" Lizzie inquired, wondering if he was having second thoughts.

                 "It's just... I'm not..." He trailed off, his cheeks flushing a colour of red, growing frustrated as he tried to articulate his words. He gripped her hair tighter, as if working up the courage to speak further, "I'm not all that experienced in this kinda stuff and I don't—I don't want to disappoint you." He confessed and Lizzie's eyes immediately softened.

                 "Spence," She whispered, reaching up to cup at his face, her eyes smiling into is, "I don't care about that. All I care about is you. All I want is you. Alright?" She assured him, her eyes twinkling into his, making a wave of relief wash over him as he let out a breathy laugh.

                   "I want you too, Liz." He told her, reaching up to capture her lips in another kiss.

                   Lizzie smiled against his lips before pulling back and putting her hand on his bare chest, pushing him back down onto the bed, "Just sit back and relax. Let me take the lead." She said, her voice low and hoarse as she reached down to unbutton his trousers whilst Spencer watched her every move.

                     Soon, both of them were undressed, their clothes scattered in a heap on the floor. It was the one time Spencer didn't mind mess—because all he cared about in that moment was Elizabeth Hotchner and the way she looked sitting on top of him, free of her clothes, her hair dripping droplets of water across her chest and onto his stomach. 

                    Lizzie had took a peek at what she was working with when he had slipped the condom on—and she wasn't disappointed. She could also feel how eager he was from beneath her, and by how heavy he was breathing whilst she sat on top of him, grinding against him, her hair pulled over one shoulder as she rocked back and forth.

                  After feeling like they were both ready, Lizzie leaned down, giving him a peck on the lips with a smile before straightening herself out, lifting herself above him. She could feel him ready for her and she slowly sank herself down on top of him, feeling him enter her. It was slow and agonising, making her feel like her entire body was covered in flames. But she wanted to take her time with him—she didn't want to rush things.

                     Spencer gasped when he filled her completely, his hands coming up to grip her bare waist, his fingers digging into her skin. Lizzie held his half-shut gaze as she began moving up and down, riding him at a steady pace, feeling her throat begin to dry. Spencer was whimpering from beneath her, jerking his hips upwards, thrusting into her and it felt so good it made her moan loudly as she squeezed her eyes shut. For saying he was inexperienced, Spencer managed to match her rhythm perfectly, moving his hips along with hers, hitting the spot deep inside of her that made her body shake.

                   After a while, Spencer sat himself up, clutching onto her and burying his face into her chest as her nails dug into his back, leaving marks. She sped up her pace, feeling her inner thighs burn as she rode him, both of them whimpering. Spencer was breathing hard against her neck, occasionally pressing kisses to the skin before he would pull his head back up and capture her lips in another kiss. Lizzie could feel herself nearing the end as she moved up and down, feeling him slide in and out of her and a part of her didn't want it to stop.

                   But her body didn't give a shit about what she wanted and quickened the pace until both of them were thrusting into one another, Lizzie's hair bouncing at her shoulders. With one last thrust upwards, Lizzie felt herself reach her climax, a hot wave washing over her as she felt herself clench around him, letting out a cry of pleasure as she slid herself in and out of him a few more times.

                    Spencer's face was resting in the crook of her shoulder as he breathed heavily, whimpering against her skin and she felt herself smile widely before sliding herself out of him and pushing him onto the bed, cuddling herself up beside him. Spencer leaned down, kissing the top of her head and pulling her closer along with the bedsheets, wrapping them around their bodies.

                     Both of them lay there, catching their breath. Lizzie tipped her head back, smiling up at him, "I'm really happy you decided to come to my room. Even if it was just to yell at me." She told him playfully, making him laugh, still out of breath.

                    He tucked her under his arm, kissing her forehead, "Me too."

( authors note )

            i rlly said 'smut but make it romantic' in this chapter and personally i think that's very slay of me.

             limme know what you thought of this jam packed chapter!

               — taylor xx