Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds or Spencer Reid.

She actually whimpered when he pressed into her, arms and legs automatically wrapping around him as she took him fully. It had been so long, but neither of them were interested in drawing this out and he began to pound into her at a brutal pace.

His forehead found its place in the crook of her shoulder, leaning his weight there as he used one hand to pry her legs from him, spreading her wide, and the other arm to hitch her up at the waist, taking her even more deeply until they were both groaning at the sensation. Her hands scrambled for purchase against his shoulders, her nails scraping the skin and making him shudder.

"You want it a little rough tonight, huh?" she panted out, smirking through her pleasure.

"Stop talking." His voice was muffled against her neck, before biting down none too gently.

"Oohoo, you do," she giggled, only to gasp as he shoved a hand between them, pinching her clit hard.

"I said stop talking."

"Make me."

Suddenly his head was gone from her shoulder, fingers wrapping around her throat as he leaned back for leverage. Her eyes flashed as he answered her challenge, grinning as she spread her legs wider, before closing her eyes and letting the sensations wash over her. She ultimately loved being dominated by him, and was more than happy to goad him into it. He was more than happy to let her, especially tonight.

After what seemed like eternity and no time at all his balls began to draw up. His fingers tightened around her throat as he leaned in to hiss into her ear.

"Come with me. Right now."

On his command she saw stars, giving a strangled cry as she felt him spill hotly into her. His fingers loosened slowly as his weight sank down onto her, breathing heavily across her chest. She pressed a shaky kiss to his damp forehead, smiling at the familiar smell of him that she had missed oh so much.

"That was a hell of a welcome home."

Spencer Reid's eyes opened slowly to his surprisingly bright bedroom. There was a moment of panic that he was late for work, before remembering it was Sunday and leaning back into his pillows to close his eyes again. He stretched, reaching over to the empty side of the bed that was for some reason...warm this morning.

His dream, the events of the previous night, hit him suddenly, and he opened his eyes again to look around the room. He was nude under the sheets, and could see his shirt and boxers missing from the pile of clothing they'd left on the floor. Straining his ears, he could hear someone bustling around in the kitchen, and strains of music.

Spencer took his time before leaving his room, using the bathroom and washing his face. Wearing only a pair of old scrub pants, he took a deep breath and steeled himself before opening his bedroom door.

Charlotte was wearing his clothes and making breakfast, as he'd suspected, and she was listening to Glenn Miller quietly so as not to wake him. He could hear her humming softly as he made his way to the breakfast bar, picking up the steaming mug of coffee waiting for him and perching on a tall stool.

"Good morning, handsome," she said, not looking away from the pancakes she was carefully turning. "Sleep well?"

"How long are you in town this time?" Spencer cut to the chase, harsher than was necessary. He was tired, dammit, and it had been a hell of a case in New York and he was torn between kissing her senseless and strangling her every time she came home (it had been perversely rewarding last night to do a bit of both), and frankly he just didn't know if he could do this anymore.

Turning the stove off as she divided the pancakes onto two plates, Charlotte took her time bringing the food and a fresh pot of coffee to the bar, before pulling her stool around to the other side of the counter to face Spencer. Her blond hair was longer than he remembered, braided over her shoulder and her bangs were out of her hazel eyes, tucked behind her ears.

"I'm not sure."

"Where are you going next?"

"I'm not sure."

"Are you sure of anything?"

"I'm sure I love you."

"Don't." Spencer met her with a hard stare. "Don't you dare. You promised me, Lottie, you promised you'd come home to me and we could really be together. I'm waiting. I've been waiting for almost five years, and you keep saying it won't be much longer, and then Gerry's sending you into war zones for another six months and I'm scared to death until I see you again. I don't know how much longer I can wait, Lottie."

He could see the tears in her eyes as he let his anger out. He eased despite himself - logically he knew he wasn't being fair. He had been the one to encourage her to follow her dream of photojournalism, but he never imagined she'd use it as an excuse to run from him, run from what they had. He sighed, tearing his eyes from hers to stare into his coffee mug.

"How long, Lottie?"

"Well..." she said, sniffing back her tears. "That depends."

"On what?"

"On whether or not you've still got that ring lying around."

Spencer looked at her again, a look of almost disbelief in his eyes. "This isn't funny."

She reached out to take his hand. "I'm not trying to be funny. I'm being serious."

"Why now? What's different now from six months ago?"

"I saw the news, Spencer," Charlotte said. "Terrorism in New York? I knew you had to be there. I had just closed up an assignment and was already on my way home to see you. I was actually looking at available assignments when I found out." At least she looked guilty, he thought to himself. "And then I found out agents were injured, and...you didn't answer your phone and it's not like I could call the Bureau to find anything out so I got here as quickly as I could and...and then you walked through the door and I forgot how to breathe, Spencer. And I just...I realized that that must be how you feel about me out there all the time and even though nothing's ever happened to me something could've happened to you yesterday! It could have been you!" She broke down for real this time, and the anger drained from Spencer at the sight. He did know that feeling, every time he heard about another IED anywhere near her assignments. He went into danger regularly, but she lived in it constantly and it nearly killed him every time she left again. He came around the bar to her, gathering her into his arms and pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

Charlotte calmed almost instantly, clinging to him. She was never prone to hysterics, and his touch always soothed her. After a minute she pulled away slightly, wiping her face.

"Something just clicked in my soul, Spencer," she told him quietly. "The moment you walked in that door I knew I wanted to watch you walk through it as many times as possible for the rest of my life. I'm calling Gerry today to let him know I won't be taking on any more assignments. I'm coming home, permanently. I'm so sorry it took me so long to get here, but I'm here, and I promise you I'm not going anywhere."

He tilted her chin up to look her in the eye. "Do you mean that?"

"With every fiber of my being."

"Good," he whispered, closing the distance between them to kiss her deeply, before disentangling himself and stepping away to his satchel where it sat by the door. Charlotte smiled as she watched him sift through it.

"You carry it around with you?"

"Of course I carry it around with me," he said as he came back to her, sitting back on his stool and sliding the black box across the bar. "I keep it locked in my desk during the day and it's in my bag otherwise. I never know when you're coming home and you snoop."

"Does it really count as snooping if you've already proposed once before?" she asked, without opening the box.

"You told me no and ran away without even looking at it," he deadpanned. "You don't get to see it until you say yes."

"Yes."

The smile on her face was radiant, and he felt like his cheeks would split from his own grin. "Well then open it."

It was clearly an antique, with fine, delicate filigree and tiny diamonds swirling around a small pearl. She sighed softly when she saw it, lifting it from the cushion to admire it in the light.

"Oh, sweetheart...it's perfect. It's so perfect."

"I know," he said, taking the white gold ring from her and slipping it onto the appropriate finger. "I saw it and knew it was yours." He brought her hand up, pressing his lips to the pearl, then each finger in turn. Her eyes were shining with tears again when he looked up at her. "You're really staying? I know you'll never let me quit the bureau, but you're okay with me doing this job and not being out in the world doing your own work? You won't grow to resent me for that?"

"Spencer, six months ago I did what was arguably the stupidest thing I've ever done when I ran away from you. I've spent all this time trying to figure out exactly what I wanted and what decisions I was prepared to make to make that happen. I'd already been feeling homesick, but I wasn't sure if I was really prepared to give up my dream job. Then you asked me to marry you at the airport and suddenly I felt like the choice was being taken away from me and I panicked. Of course I know that's not the case," Charlotte said quickly, holding up a finger to stop his interruption, "but like I said, I panicked. But then I spent the past six months terrified I'd completely lost my chance at a future with you, I was sure you'd never agree to marry me after what I did. And I couldn't stand that. I'd rather never pick up a camera again than not spend the rest of my life with you."

Spencer was surprised to find tears coming to his own eyes at that. "Wow. I didn't realize I made such an impression," he joked weakly.

"Shut up," she chuckled. "You know exactly what you do to me, genius. But I knew for sure when you walked through that door that I could never leave you again, that I never wanted to. So first thing this morning I called up Stephanie, an old high school friend of mine that works for the police department, and starting next week I am the city's newest crime scene photographer. I can still use my pictures to help the greater good, just in a different way."

Spencer blinked at this, stunned. "Wait, you...you already got a job? Even though we'd hardly spoken in six months and you weren't sure I'd still want to marry you?"

Charlotte blushed prettily. "Call it wishful thinking, I guess. Or maybe just love. I'm glad you kept the ring."

"There'd never be anyone else but you," Spencer told her seriously. "You know that."

She grinned, biting her lip in that way that made his heart melt. "I do know that. You know I'll have to escape from time to time, right? I'm ready to settle down, but not stop travelling."

"I'm sure we can make some regular vacations happen," he grinned back. "I'm not letting you leave me at another airport anytime soon."

"Try the rest of your life, mister. Where I go, you go."