Too Close for Comfort

Part 12

Spencer eventually went to fetch the ice, vowing to return as quickly as possible. He wrapped it in a washcloth so it wasn't as cold before applying it to your skin.

"Hold it there," he instructed as he got up to grab lotion from the bathroom, the bed springs squeaking as he did so.

You felt a yawn creeping up in the back of your throat and shook your head to try and stop it. Maybe now you'd finally have a chance at a good night's sleep.

You stayed there with him for a bit as he tended to you and asked you questions on how you were feeling.

"Was there anything I did that you liked? Disliked? You have to let me know if there's anything you didn't like; you know that right?" he clarified, eliciting a soft giggle from
your lips.

"I'll sleep on it and give you your grade tomorrow," you joked.

"I was an A student all throughout school," he countered, "And I won't settle for anything less."

Then came the part you hated, the part where you awkwardly went back to your room. Spencer didn't try to convince you to stay, especially since you were only a room over, and you didn't expect him to. Still, you felt disappointed when he shut the door.

Fortunately, the disappointment didn't last long as you fell asleep within seconds of letting your head down on the pillow.

...

You woke up a few hours later feeling just as tired as before you fell asleep. That's what happens when you fall asleep at 4am, you reminded yourself.

In the morning during check out, you were bombarded by endless questions from your concerned coworkers- who hadn't seen you since the incident last night- about your injuries.

Rossi gave you an old Italian herbal remedy for healing wounds, which just meant a recipe for spaghetti. You hoped it was as magical as he made it out to be.

Maybe it could alleviate the feeling between your legs...

You were sore in more ways than one. A certain coworker had impeded your ability to walk properly last night.

The feeling, however, subsided as you were distracted by the presence of one of your favorite coworkers entering the lobby.

Emily made a beeline in your direction.

"How's your leg?" she asked, bringing a hand up to stroke the top of your shoulder.

You frowned and looked down.

"Okay; not great."

"Yeah, I can tell. You're walking a little funny today. Is it because of the stitches?"

No. No.

"Yes."

Emily grimaced.

"I'm sorry. That's got to hurt. Reid tell you we got the guy?"

"I'm just glad you did, because I don't know if I would've forgiven myself if it'd gone any other way."

"Oh, stop it," Emily said, rolling her eyes, "You were great in there, up until the point where he figured out you were an agent."

"Listen, you've had a lot more experience with that than I have..."

"Suppose you're right," she chuckled, "Have you had any breakfast? We have a good fifteen minutes before we need to head out."

You shook your head.

"Come on, I'm in the mood for bagels," she told you.

...

It wasn't until you got to the jet that you realized you hadn't seen Spencer so far.