Title: A Misrepresentation of Parenthood

Author: Keelover/Planetofmars

Pairing: Morgan/Reid

Summary: Derek invites Spencer's father to Christmas without informing him.

Word Count:3,136

Rating: PG.

Warning: Set in the future. Also, there's a kid.

A Misrepresentation of Parenthood

Spencer's feet are carrying him ungracefully around the kitchen. Derek's mother is moving to his left, and Derek's sister Sara is moving to his right. Christmas was a busy time of year for them, especially with a unpredictable schedule and family from out of state. Derek and their daughter, Amelia, had picked Derek's family up from the airport a little over three hours ago, leaving Spencer to stand around and pretend to be useful. Spencer is in the midst of glazing the ham when the doorbell sounds.

"Dad, there's some man at the door!" Amelia yells, and Spencer moves quickly, on the verge of scorning the young girl for opening the door to a complete stranger when his feet stop cold.

Spencer, for a long time, would have nightmares involving Amelia and George Foyet. That was impossible, Spencer knew, Foyet was dead, but that didn't stop the nightmares from occurring. Spencer would dream he was in the kitchen, making breakfast when the doorbell would ring and he would yell for Derek to answer it. Instead, he would hear Amelia announce a stranger at the door, and when he gets to her, Foyet is there, arm wrapped around the child's small shoulders. The dream would never pass further then that, Derek shaking him awake, but this is no dream, and Foyet is not the man standing in the entrance of their home.

"Hey, Spence," his father greets, hesitantly.

Spencer takes a deep breath, trying to find his voice. Amelia looks at him, her blue eyes curious and expecting answers. Spencer grabs a hold of her hand, motioning between her and his father. "Amelia, this is your...well, he's your grandfather," Spencer explains.

"Is he married to grandma in there?" she questions, and both Spencer and his father laugh nervously.

"No. No, he's my dad," Spencer says slowly, and through gritted teeth. It shouldn't sound so forced.

"Oh! Well, that's nice. I'm gonna go play with my aunt Desiree now," she cheerfully announces, curtseying before running off.

"She's beautiful, Spencer," his father says, and Spencer merely gawks.

"Derek!" he finally yells, not knowing what else to do.

"Listen, Spence, if this is uncomfortable..."

"Hold that thought, please. Derek!" Spencer calls out again, and when he sees the man cautiously making his way down the stairs, avoiding direct eye contact, Spencer already has all the information he needs.

"Spence, before you say anything..."

"Patio, now," Spencer demands, and Derek can do nothing but follow.

The cold air hits him fast, and Spencer can't think clearly. He can't place the emotions he is currently experiencing, caught somewhere between panic, anger, surprise and relief. Panic was something Spencer felt when ever he saw his father, it was his default reaction, even till this day. Anger at Derek for not consulting with him on this matter. Surprise was a obvious feature, and relief due to the fact he had wanted to introduce his daughter to her remaining grandfather, no matter what he felt towards the man.

"You okay?" Derek questions, pulling Spencer's hand into his own. "Don't be too mad at me, please? I just...wanted this to be a good thing."

"A good thing? Derek, how could you think inviting my dad over for Christmas was a good thing?"

Derek's face falls, and he lets out a little sigh. "I don't know. I just, my family always comes down for the holidays and your mom's afraid of flying...and you don't want Amelia to meet her because of where she's at, but I thought, I don't know what I was thinking."

Spencer sighs, heart aching. They hadn't spoken about the reasoning behind Spencer not wanting to introduce Amelia to his mother. Spencer hadn't wanted their daughter to be introduced to that, not yet. Not like he had to. Spencer's shoulders slump as he lets out a shaky breath, inhaling cold air sharply as he rests his forehead upon Derek's shoulder. Derek holds him, like he often does, murmuring words of comfort.

Amelia not knowing Spencer's side of the family had always bothered him. In the back of his mind, Spencer rationalized he was doing the right thing; the sensible thing. Fran, Desiree, and Sara were more then enough family, but what if? What if his dad wanted to be a part of his life? What if he wanted to be a part of their lives?

"I don't know what to say to him," he admits.

Derek smooths his hands up Spencer's back, leaning in to kiss him. "Hi, would be a good start," he says, causing Spencer to laugh against his will.

"I guess we should go back inside, huh?"

"Yeah, it's sort of freezing, and I'm in nothing but this ugly sweater my mom knitted," Derek says, laughing.

Spencer would never say anything to Derek, but he quite liked the red sweater with reindeer knitted across the front. Spencer's was purple and Amelia's was green, but that was besides the point. Spencer opens the sliding glass door, moving into the kitchen where Fran pulls him into a hug, kissing him on the cheek. "You okay, baby?" she questions, and Spencer smiles. He wasn't, but she didn't have to know that.

"I'm okay. Where's my dad?"

"Living room, watching Amelia and Desiree play Operation."

"Thank you," he says, moving out of the kitchen, not before overhearing Derek get stuck helping her, and hearing the man groan in displeasure.

Amelia sits on the floor, long black hair braided into a bun on the top of her head. Sara could never resist decorating the child's hair with a clip of some sort, and this evening she chose a flower to place on the right side of her head. Desiree sits on the sofa, attempting to remove the funny bone without getting zapped. No such luck. Spencer sits next to his father on the adjacent sofa, making sure there was adequate space between them. Spencer's father has a soft smile to his face as he watches the child play, and Spencer finally works up enough courage to mumble a quick, "Hi."

"Hello, Spencer," his father greets, pointing towards his granddaughter. "She's very good at this game. Good hand-eye coordination."

"She, uh, gets that from Derek," Spencer admits, hands in his lap as the fire place roars on.

"She has your moms eyes," he says, amazed.

"I know. She's pretty stunning, Derek doesn't know what to do with her."

"Yes, she is quite stunning. I suppose he won't be letting her out much when she gets older. How is she doing in school?"

"She's two grades ahead...when we can get her to do her homework," Spencer jests, laughing.

"Wow, so she's seven in the fifth grade?"

"Yep. They wanted to move her up to the sixth grade, but I refused. I wouldn't allow them to test for her IQ. I want her to have time to adjust socially. I keep her entertained at home so she won't get too bored at school, her teacher adds extra assignments for her," Spencer says, and the decision to hold her back was not as hard as one might think.

Spencer's father hangs his head. "I'm sorry, Spencer. I really am. I should have been there to protect you," he says, and his voice is thick.

"Dad, I don't want to do this. I just, if we want to do this, I don't want to...what I'm trying to say is the past is the past."

His father smiles sadly. "I understand, Spencer. I can do that."

"Good. This means a lot to me, and to Derek, apparently."

"Yeah. I've got to tell you, Spencer, he's pretty intimidating when he wants to be," his father says, laughing.

"Yeah, that's what we use him for at the FBI," Spencer jokes, throwing Derek a devious grin through the kitchen opening.

"He had me terrified that time in Vegas, but I could see how protective of you he was, and on the phone he just sounded...so loving. I was the same way with your mom, still am when talking to some of those doctors down there."

"Did you love mom?" Spencer questions, and he has to know.

"Very much, Spencer. Still do. Loving someone with a mental illness isn't easy, Spencer. I was so scared when her behavior started to change, when the hallucinations would appear...I didn't, I didn't know what to do but hold her and cry. I wasn't as scared as she was, though, but she was much, much more brave then I ever was," he clarifies, and Spencer nods.

"Dad," Amelia calls out, dropping dramatically onto Spencer's lap.

"Yes, little one?"

"I'm hungry," she complains, hands on her slightly protruding tummy. Spencer tickles her sides, and the girl shrieks as she attempts to squirm away.

"Why don't you go ask your grandma if dinner's ready?" he tells her, and the young girl moves with a huff towards the kitchen.

"Amelia's a strong name. You're not hoping she gets lost over the Atlantic, are you?"

Spencer chuckles. "Are you kidding? She's too stubborn to get lost," he says.

"Let's hope so."

"Dinner's ready!" Amelia announces as everyone moves towards the dinning room. Amelia pulls out her chair, motioning to the one beside her. "You can sit here, next to me," she offers, and Spencer's father happily accepts.

"Thank you," he says as Spencer sits down across from him. Spencer isn't entirely sure how he feels, but it's pretty overwhelming, and maybe a bit heartwarming.

"You gonna eat, or do I get your ham?" Derek questions, eyebrows waggling as Spencer shakes his head, chuckling.

"We haven't formally met," Derek's mother states, offering William her hand. "I'm Fran, Derek's mother."

"William, it's a pleasure to meet you," he says, shaking the woman's dainty hand.

"These are my two daughters, Desiree and Sara."

"Nice to meet you, ladies."

"Welcome to the family," Sara says, grinning.

"Yeah, welcome to the family!" Desiree adds, raising her glass.

Spencer joins her. "To family."

"To family!" Everyone cheers, taking a drink from their individual glasses.

After dinner, Derek and Amelia dance around in the kitchen while Derek's mother attempts to clean up. Amelia's cheeks are flushed with laughter, and Spencer smiles to himself. Spencer can't imagine not being here at this time in her life. With his arms wrapped around his waist, Spencer imagines Amelia's future and not being there just never crosses his mind. Fran rests her head upon Spencer's shoulder.

"Your dad not staying the night, sweetheart?"

"No, he rented a hotel room to free up space," he says, resting his head atop hers.

"Was it hard for you, seeing him?" she questions, voice low and soothing.

"Very. I just, I couldn't imagine not being here for her, and it makes me wonder how he could have not been there for me."

"You said once that he had his reasons."

"Those reasons only made sense then because I didn't have her. I only understood what it was like to be the child, not the parent, but now that I am a parent...I don't know. I can't understand that."

"Do you know what it's like to be in love with a person who has a severe mental illness and refuses to get help, Spencer?"

"No," he admits.

"Do you understand what it's like to have a child who doesn't need you, who is smarter then you, and can take care of themselves? Amelia is very smart, Spencer, but so are you, so answer truthfully."

"No," he answers.

"What your father did was terrible, Spencer, and there will be trust issues to overcome, but you can't superimpose your life onto his. You aren't in the same situation, no one really is," she says, patting his back before telling him goodnight.

"Night, Fran."

Derek's mother calls for Amelia to follow her to bed, but not before the young girl hugs her father goodnight. "Love you, dad," she says as Spencer leans down to kiss the top of her head.

"Love you, too," he responds, squeezing her tight before letting her go. Spencer use to fear that he wouldn't be able to bond with her, that physical expressions of love wouldn't come naturally, but he had been wrong. The moment he held her, everything made sense.

"I've got glitter all over me," Derek complains, scolding the decorations that lined the entire house. Amelia had suggested it, and now it was everywhere, spreading like some disease.

"You poor baby," Spencer mocks, bringing Derek in for a hug. Derek kisses his cheek, eyes held with warmth.

"Those earrings your dad gave her, are those real?" he questions, inquiring about the pearls his father had given to Amelia as a present. She refused to take them off for the rest of the night.

"They're real. They were actually my moms, she wore them on her wedding day. She gave them to him to give to her," Spencer says, chest tight.

"I know what you're worried about Spencer, but I think Amelia would be okay. I think she would be more focused on your mom then where she'd be at. They write letters all of the time, and they talk on the phone, and your mom never scares her."

"I know," Spencer murmurs, regret sinking in. He stares tearfully at Derek as the other man wraps his arms around his waist. "I feel...so ashamed, right now. I thought, I thought what I was doing was right, but I don't know."

Derek kisses him gently. "We'll figure it out," he says, and Spencer believes him. If it was one thing they were good at it was figuring things out. It was part of their job, and it was a major part of their relationship.

Together they had to figure out what they were, if they were just friends or something more. Each had to sort out their own sexual identification, Derek more so then Spencer, understandably. They had to figure out how serious they were, if they wanted to live together, if they wanted to commit. They had both been terrified, never having a serious relationship before. The longest decision they ever had to make was the decision to have a child.

The decision took over five years to reach a conclusion. Derek and Spencer went over every possible option: adoption, in vitro fertilization, and so on. The two of them took things slow, moving into a larger house with a sensible location, and good schools. One of Derek's sisters donated three of her eggs, but Derek nor Spencer were allowed to tell which one did so. She decided it wasn't important, and shouldn't be mentioned unless Amelia truly wanted to know.

The process of finding a surrogate was time consuming, and costly. Finally, after two years of searching, they found the right woman. She was more then happy to help them, and they were more then happy to pay her for her services. After eight and a half months, Amelia was born two weeks premature, but otherwise healthy. The surrogate writes them for the holidays, and they sometimes run into her when they're near DC.

The two were still trying to figure out how to be parents, with so much knowledge of the underside of life, it was hard to want to let her go. The over protectiveness Derek had for her was near crushing, and Spencer had him to ease back, and allow her to explore. Spencer was often consumed by wanting her to make friends, and have fun. Spencer hadn't been afforded a carefree childhood, and often sought to lift all burdens from her shoulders. Derek had to real him in, and show him that she needed to have some responsibilities, and learn to be independent. Where one faltered, the other lifted, and the two were able to keep each other afloat as best as they could.

Spencer pulls away from Derek, busying himself with putting away the leftovers. Sara no doubt was upstairs reading to Amelia before the child fell asleep, and Spencer used this time to think things over. "I'll be on the couch when you want to talk," Derek states, moving towards the living room. Spencer nods and continues with his task, he felt tired. He was tired.

Spencer thinks of all the letters he has stuffed into a large box under their bed. The distance he placed between himself and his mother was a way to protect himself from heartache, but Spencer was beginning to think the distance was what was really tearing him apart. Spencer throws the containers into the fridge, sneaking a piece of cherry pie before joining Derek. Derek is sprawled out on the coach watching football highlights on ESPN, and Spencer falls on top of him, gangly limbs intertwining with Derek's. "I love you," he mumbles into Derek's neck, hand upon his chest as he breathes in the other mans scent.

"Love you more," Derek says, and Spencer won't take the bait, it could go on forever.

"I want Amelia to meet my mom," he says, slow and slightly afraid. "I was thinking maybe during Spring Break we could fly down and see her."

"I think she would really like that," Derek says, yawning. Spencer smiles, nuzzling Derek's neck before kissing his jaw.

"You're tired," Spencer muses, fingers dancing along Derek's cheekbone. "Let's go to bed."

Derek agrees, turning off the television as the two sit up slowly. Spencer climbs the stairs, one by one until he reaches the door to Amelia's room, and peers in. The girl is asleep, dolphin shaped stuffed animal cradled between her arms. Spencer looks around, the whole house is decorated with fake snowflakes and gingerbread houses. It looks and smells like Christmas, but Spencer just can't feel it.

"Spence, come look at this," Derek calls slipping into the guest bathroom. Spencer follows him, but bumps into Derek as he stops him from moving further. Derek looks up, and as Spencer follows he sees the mistletoe above their heads.

"You are cheesy deep down, aren't you?" Spencer questions, playful as he leans down slightly to press his lips against Derek's. The other man wraps his arms around his waist, holding him close. Spencer decides he could stay this way forever.

"Merry Christmas, baby."

"Merry Christmas."