Chapter Text
His brain didn't usually melt into a puddle like this. In fact, it NEVER did. Something was different about this past case. About her. He knows she isn’t smarter than him, that's not what was bothering him, he'd outsmarted her three times. She isn’t more ANYTHING than him. And, even if she was, what did it matter? He should be done with her, she's just another woman who had pointed a gun at him under a table. It'd happened to him a thousand times, why was Cat any different?
He thinks again about their kiss. She had told him to make her believe it and in doing so, he might've made himself believe it, too. It was undeniable, their chemistry, the sexual tension. Whenever they were around each other, he could feel electricity, heat radiating off of every inch of his skin, like he was under stage lights or something. Her eyes felt like they could see right through him, straight into his skull. And when they kissed, he'd felt more than he had with any fling or girlfriend or crush he'd ever had before. Kissing her had been like he'd been thinking his entire life and he could finally FEEL. He grabbed her face in both hands, grazing the softness of her cheeks and neck, and inhaled her into his space. Like he was in a drought and she was the only water for miles.
Needless to say, it hadn't left his mind since it happened. Not even a new case at the BAU could help distract him.
"Reid, you coming?" Morgan calls to him from the stairs.
"Actually, uh, I have an errand to run. I don't think I'll be much help til I do it. I'll meet up with you guys in the field." Hurriedly, Spencer leaves before there could be any probing questions. He'd go to the prison, see Cat and clear his mind of her, and then get briefed later and meet the team in Atlanta for the case. Easy. Simple.
Nothing like Cat Adams.
--
He walks into the DC Women's Correctional Facility as the sunset bathes the concrete lot and barbed wire fences in a hazy pink glow. There’s nearly a halo of light over the prison.
"Uh, I'm visiting a, uh, Catherine Adams?" Spencer speaks nervously to the warden. He didn't have a great history with prison guards and he wasn't willing to repeat any past mistakes, like overconfidence. Or in prison, ANY confidence.
The warden gestures. "This way, fed."
"Please don't call me that." Spencer was not going to be identified as a fed in a prison. Not again.
The warden approaches a door, buzzes in and looks at Reid. He knows what to do, it’s protocol. He exhales and spreads his arms and legs wide and lets the guards search him for weapons. They don’t find anything but Purell and chapstick in his front shirt pocket, so they buzz the next door in the vestibule to let him go inside. To see her. The buzz is harsh and sharp to his ears, but it was nothing compared to –
"Spencie!" Cat drawls, eyes wide and staring right at his. He feels a pit in his stomach, like the feeling when you reach the peak of a rollercoaster and you know you're about to drop 300 feet at 100 miles per hour. It's gut wrenching and terrifying and exhilarating all at once. Fuck.
"Cat Adams." He says back, matter-of-factly.
"To what do I owe this....pleasure? I can't say I've killed any more of your darling friends or family yet. I was saving that for Christmas. So what brings you here?" Cat says everything like there's a cryptic message encoded between her teeth as she talks.
"I need to clear my head. I need to set a boundary with you. I don't want you thinking there was anything more to our relationship than negotiating." Spencer's words shake ever so slightly, but Cat is nothing if not observant.
"Sounds like someone's been daydreaming about me. Don't worry Spencie, I still think about our kiss, too. The heat between us, your tongue scraping along my bottom lip, your groan when I bit yours...the way you grabbed me so hard it left bruises on my arms. And you said you weren't that type of man...Guess none of us truly know ourselves at the end of the day." The words spill out of her and Spencer feels every one of them sit heavy on his shoulders. He'd left bruises on her with how hard he'd grabbed her when they kissed. He didn't think that was something he'd ever do or be into but hearing her say it...He feels something stirring inside him. He needs to shake it.
"I know you though. You're selfish and cruel and you don't love me." Spencer manages to get out. "I'm never coming back here again. I just needed to see your face to close this chapter of my life, to shut my brain down, compartmentalize. Habits take an average of 66 days to become engrained, and by the time Christmas rolls around, I won't have even thought of you since right now."
Cat stands up and slowly walks over to Spencer who stands with his hands in his pockets across the room. She slides her hands beneath his blazer and around his waist, basking in the warmth enveloping the both of them now. Spencer tenses up, feeling his blood pressure rise and heart beating faster and faster, sending blood not just to his brain anymore.
She can feel it, he knows she can. Her hips are pressed against his own, anyone with a pulse could feel it.
"Seems like I know you better than you know you. Or maybe you've just been lying to yourself to make yourself feel like a better person than the psychopath you are for wanting me so badly." She retracts one hand from his waist and slowly moves it down over his crotch. His dick twitches and his breath catches.
"It's a natural human response in a male my age and stature, it means nothing." Spencer mumbles out. He knows it's a bold faced lie but he needs every bit of dignity he can get at this moment.
"Mmhm, sure is," Cat whispers, wrapping her fingers around it over his pants, "I just wish I could help you out a little bit more than I can here."
He can feel himself starting to produce what the experts call precum, and pushes Cat off of him before she can feel it. "I'm leaving. Never contact me again." He says over his shoulder, heading straight for the visitors' bathrooms.
Slamming the door behind him and deadbolting it so no prisoners or guards could get in, Spencer carefully unzips his pants and looks down at his painful erection in his boxers. There’s a wet spot that, thankfully, hadn't penetrated the front of his slacks while he'd been in the room with Cat. He knows what has to happen before he can leave.
He lowers his boxers and his cock springs out at attention. One interaction with Cat Adams and he was ready to paint the inside of his pants. Not a good look. He spits on his hand and grasps his dick, first rubbing the saliva over the throbbing tip. He groans, louder than he expected. Fuck, this felt incredible. He'd always gone for the good girls but there was something about the way Cat looked at him, touched him, that made him want to get on his knees, spread her legs, and devour her while she pet him like a lap dog.
He starts stroking his dick like he wanted her to be doing to him. He began gently, getting more and more impatient. All the blood in his body was rushing to his cock, he'd never been so turned on in his life. He stares at his dick in his hands, rubbing up and down over and over, breathing hard and heavy, mouthing Cat's name over and over between expletives until he could feel the climax approach. He hadn't thought about where he would finish but he didn't have time, he had one hand stroking his dick as fast and hard as he could and the other white-knuckling the sink to keep himself upright. He finally gets to his peak thinking about the way Cat had wrapped her fingers around his cock in that room while the guards had been watching from the one way glass, thinking about how she would taste if she let him eat her out, and he'd finally had enough. He splatters his huge load all over the linoleum floor of the prison bathroom.
Shame overtakes his face immediately. He’s bright red as he looks at himself in the mirror for the first time. He'd just jerked off to the thought of Cat Adams, the black widow, and spilled the biggest load of cum he'd ever made. On the floor. He can’t just leave it in here, either, the guards would have to clean it up, and he’s better than that.
Spencer grabs a few paper towels from the roll and gets down on his knees and wipes his cum off the floor. This might be the most humbling moment in his career at the BAU. He throws the paper towels away, washes his hands, and runs his fingers through his hair before unlocking the door and signing himself out of the prison grounds. He'll figure out what this all meant later. For now, he just needs to go meet the team.