The Keeping of Words | Spencer Reid

50| What You Deserve

Interrogating Cat was frustrating and exhausting. She kept leading him on tangents, trying to see how far she could push him until he gave in, how far she could bend him until he cracked. She had the upper hand, but he had everything on the line. This was a war of attrition; he just had to wear her down until she made a mistake. But she'd had months to plan out every little detail, and she didn't intend to go down easily. One look in her eyes would tell anyone this was the most fun she'd had in a long time.

Reid was tired of playing her games. He wanted answers, he wanted to get out of here, he wanted all of this to be over. Leaning across the table, he narrowed his eyes at her.

"You want me to admit that I am actually in love with you," he said. That had to be it, love. Something she hadn't volunteered, and something he wouldn't want to admit. Something she could capitalize on.

Cat just rolled her eyes. "Don't get me wrong, I love my fairy tales – clearly - as much as the next girl, but I'm not delusional."

Said the woman trying to force him to understand her fantasy. If the situation weren't so serious he might be tempted to laugh. "Are you sure about that?"

"Very sure," she retorted. "So sure, in fact, that I had Lindsey leave a clue for you in your little scrapbook your mom keeps." It had been hours since he and JJ had gone through the things in his mother's room. What was the message? There had only been one thing out of place, a picture of a tightrope walker with his face when he was young pasted on it. On the back in red pen, XX-XY. That had to be what she was referring to, but what on earth did it mean? "I couldn't have you come all the way down here and make a guess until I was positive. That is..." She paused and looked down, resting her hands over her stomach in a manner that had become startlingly familiar, "until I tested positive."

Wait. That couldn't be right. Reid furrowed his eyebrows, trying to make sense of this. "What, you're pregnant?" Even has he said the words, they didn't feel right. Something was wrong. He could feel it, a strange hollowness in the pit of his stomach. There was something he was missing.

The game, he was losing. Cat could tell, and she was relishing this moment of power over him. She flipped her hair, leaning in slowly, a smirk spreading over her face. The hollowness became a chill.

"We're pregnant," she said. This was a lie. It had to be a lie; it was just a part of her game. He searched her eyes for any tells, any giveaways to reassure him. All he found was a confident, cruel, grin as she waited for his reaction.

He shook his head. "No." It was all he could manage.

"Yes," she said. "Mazel tov." He stood from the chair, nearly knocking it over in his haste. He needed space to sort out what he was feeling. Denial. Rage. Confusion. Fear.

Reid began to pace. "It's not possible. Even if you are pregnant, the baby's not mine."

Cat remained completely calm. "Except for the part where it is."

"You've been in prison."

"So have you."

"And we've never-"

"I know." Back and forth they went, each question allowing Cat to gain just a little bit more of the upper hand. Finally, she begged him to ask her how she'd done it. With no leverage left, he complied. He asked. And she spun a tale of sending Lindsey to Mexico, dosing him with drugs, causing him to lose. Specific instructions to seduce him.

"I told her to pretend to be Maeve."

His heart dropped. Lost for words, he swallowed hard. There was no way. There was just no way.