The Oval Office was dark, save for the dim glow of the city outside. Spencer Reid, President of the United States, stood by the window, staring out into the night, his mind miles away from the crises piling up. But the real crisis stood before him—you.

You were his lover, his fixer. The one person who could unravel the chaos surrounding him, even as you held the power to ruin him completely. You were the one who handled the unfixable. The nation might see a brilliant strategist, but Spencer saw something deeper—a partner, a confidante, a lover. Even if he was married to his first lady, Maeve, and even if he had two children with her, he couldn’t help but fall for you. Hard.

“We can’t keep doing this, Spencer.” Your voice trembled, but you stood tall. “We just can’t— Maeve needs you, your kids need you, this nation needs you. They need their President.”

His eyes flashed with desperation as he crossed the room in two long strides, pulling you into him. “Don’t say that. Don’t act like this isn’t real.” His voice cracked. “You’re the only real thing I have.”

Your heart pounded, torn between the pull of his touch and the weight of reality. “I fix problems, Spencer. This… we are a problem.”

His grip tightened. “Then fix it,” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours. “I can’t be President without you.”

You snapped, pulling away from him. “You can’t say that right now,” you said, your voice firm. “The country comes first.”

“But what if I don’t want it to anymore? Hm?” He snapped as well, as the air between you felt like a breaking point. “What if I just… leave everything behind? I’m willing to leave this. I’ll divorce from Maeve so we can go to Vermont together. Have the house of our dreams and— just make jams together. Like we always wanted to.” He said, his voice getting softer at the end of the sentence. He was clearly losing his mind.