Writer in the Dark - Spencer Reid

One day, on a crisp and cool day in November of 2009, Spencer Reid walked into a bookstore that would soon change his entire life.  It was a bookstore that had been up the street from his apartment for years, but he had never made his way to it until now.  His eyes scanned through the many aisles and the second floor, which was a visible loft, with a content grin on his lips.

As he browsed the many aisles, his eyes landed on you.  You stood there, in the biography section, dressed in a pale pink dress that was a little too big for you, but was still made you look absolutely beautiful.  You were placing new books onto the shelves, and you had yet to notice him, or so he thought.  

He didn’t realize that you noticed him when he had entered the store.  Messy curly hair, buttoned cardigan, content smile and all.  He was a lot like most of the men who came into the bookstore.  A scholar, without a doubt.

His face reddened at just the sight of you and he moved quickly, four books in his arms, towards the checkout.  As he walked along the wall towards the large desk with the old register, his eyes fell on a cork board with a quote written in a beautifully messy font on a ripped sheet of notebook paper. 

Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt thou that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love.

Spencer’s lips turned up in a small smile as he reached down, digging a pen from his bag and writing below the quote.

Thine evermore, most dear lady, whilst this machine is to him.

With a small and happy smile playing on his lips, he turned back towards the checkout and his eyes landed on you as you walked to the desk and placing a large stack of books on it.  “Hello,” you greeted in a gentle and quiet voice as you gave him a warm smile.   Your eyes were bright, and so innocent, and he thought you were one of the kindest looking people he had ever seen.  “Find what you were looking for?”  You asked him as you held your hand out to take them. 

Spencer’s eyes darted down to your hand, and slowly, he nodded and handed you the small stack.  “Truthfully, I wasn’t looking for anything,” he answered with a slightly nervous smile. 

You laughed.  It was a genuine, happy laugh, and Spencer wanted nothing more than to hear it more.  “I know the feeling,” you replied and began to ring him up. Your eyes scanned the books with a fond look.  “You’ve got quite the collection here.  I assume you’re studying for something?”  You continued to speak so friendly.  Spencer’s mind wandered to the fact that this friendly nature was the typical attributes to the victims he saw in his line of work. 

The thought made his heart drop to his stomach.  “No, actually.  I am just reading these for pleasure,” he explained with the most even voice he could manage. “What’s your name?”

“(Y/N),” you answered with a small smile.  “What do I get to call you?” 

Spencer's mind wandered with a million different options he could say, but simply answered, “Spencer.”  No doctor, no last name, just Spencer.  

You repeated his name then, like you trying to draw a connection to something. “Spencer, like Spenser from Robert B. Parker’s detective novels,” you answered with a crooked smile on our lips.  “You’re not a detective to, are you?”  You asked as you then followed with his total for the books.  

Spencer handed you the money as his cheeks felt warm.  “No, not quite,” he said softly with a gentle smile on his lips. 

You laughed again, and Spencer felt his own heart rate speed up at the sound.  “I always found Spenser, in the novels, to be rather secretive, as well,” you murmured as you placed Spencer’s books in a paper bag and pushed them across the counter to him.  “Stop in again, yeah?”  You asked as you took your own stack of books into your arms again, gave him one final smile, and walked back into the aisles of books, leaving him to his thoughts.

He stared for a moment, at the tall brown paper bag, and smiled lightly, gathering it into his own arms and left, not before glancing at one more at the writing on the cork board.

~.~

Just short a month later, Spencer came into the bookstore again.  His mind often thought of you during the last few weeks, your smile, witty words, the relation of his name to a book series, and especially your laugh.  All of it crowded his mind.  

As he stepped into the store, there were a few other patrons, but his eyes scanned around the store for you.  Much to his dismay, his eyes didn’t find you.  Nonetheless, he browsed the store, picking up a mother four books.  As he walked towards the register, where an elderly lady was checking out a line of customers, Spencer paused in front of the cork board again.  There it was again - the messy handwriting on the ripped sheet of notebook paper.

When he looked into her eyes, he learned the most important part of the language that all the world spoke — the language that everyone on Earth was capable of understanding in their heart. It was love.

Spencer’s mind immediately drew the connection.  Again, he dug in his bag for a pen and wrote beneath it. 

Something older than humanity, more ancient than the desert. What the boy felt at that moment was that he was in the presence of the only woman in his life, and that, with no need for words, she recognized the same thing. 

Once he finished, he capped his pen, and was about to walk away when a voice behind him spoke, “Because when you know the language, it’s easy to understand that someone in the world awaits you, whether it’s in the middle of the desert or in some great city.”  Spencer turned, knowing that voice and with rather excited eyes, he saw you standing behind him, one book in hand.  Your smile was soft, sweet, and your face was as innocent as they come. 

Spencer licked his lips briefly, and replied, “And when two such people encounter each other, the past and the future become unimportant.”  His smile was undeniable, and quite honestly, neither of you paid any attention to your surroundings as you stared at one another, refusing to break eye contact. 

“There is only that moment, and the incredible certainty that everything under the sun has been written by one hand only.”  You murmured and stepped forward, closer to Spencer. 

Spencer took a step forward as well, so that you were a mere foot away from one another. “It is the hand that evokes love, and creates a twin soul for every person in the world.”  His voice was as even as ever, as surprising as that was, being around you. 

Your smile grew slightly, and your spoke without skipping a beat, “Without such love, one’s dreams would have no meaning.”  You finished the passage, your hands still gripping the book in your hand and your eyes excited and almost sparkling.  

Spencer glanced down at the book in your hand, and he chuckled.  “The Alchemist,” he nodded to your hand.

“My favorite, for this reason exactly,” you explained as you motioned to the board.  “Surprisingly, not many people have been able to pinpoint this quote.  Its been up since you were in here last,” you added as your eyes searched his face.  Suddenly, your face reddened and you looked down.  “Not that I have been counting the days, or anything, but its been a while,” you tried to cover, but knew you were only digging yourself in a deeper hole.

He laughed.  It was light, joyful, and made you smile a bashful smile as you ducked your head down and looked at your feet.  “I originally read it in Portuguese,” Spencer told you as he fought the urge to talk far more to you.  “But reading it in English is what made it one of my favorites.

You looked up, impressed.  “Small world,” you laughed softly as Spencer looked confused.  “I originally read it in Portuguese, too,” you explained and held up the cop you had in your hand, which was indeed in Portuguese.  

Spencer raised his eyebrows, and smiled.  “You can read in more than one language?”  He asked incredulously. 

“Four, actually.  Working on five,” you said with a wide smile.

Spencer was in awe, to say the least.  You were witty, funny, educated, and could speak multiple languages?  You had to be some sort of dream of  his.  “Impressive,” he breathed out. 

You blushed and gave him a smile.  With a small breath, you began speaking, “Listen, if you're not busy tonight, there is a book signing up the road at the library you might be interested in.  Stephen King is in town,” you offered with a small, nervous smile.  “We could get coffee after.  It might be fun.”

For a moment, Spencer was quiet, weighing his options and calculating the rusk of going out with you tonight.  With a smile he couldn’t hide, he spoke, “Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love,” he said without skipping a beat.

You giggle, knowing exactly that he was referring to the words you wrote on the cork board over a month ago, and you nodded.  “I’m taking that as a yes.  Meet you here at seven?”  You asked hopefully.  Spencer nodded, causing a small smile to only grow on your face more.

You nodded in return, turned away from Spencer and walked away quickly, up the stairs towards the loft, leaving him to watch after you.  His mind swirled with all he could imagine how the night could go, what could happen, but no matter what he thought of, it was going to be a wonderful night.

You’re Somebody Else - Spencer Reid

Spencer had known you for years.  You started at the FBI as an intern in a different unit when you were still in college, and only 21 years old.  Over time, you were hired in the Crimes Against Children unit, and six years after that, you were hired onto the team for the Behavioral Analysis Unit.  You were growing quickly in the FBI.

Now, three years after that, you were thirty years old.  Over the last couple of months, the entire team noticed a difference in you, one that you vehemently denied, even to Aaron Hotchner, your boss.  Perhaps they saw a change, but you felt the same.  At least, you thought you did.

Spencer, especially, had noticed it.  He noticed the exact day it started, and refrained from asking you about it in fear it would only make it worse.  He knew his fear was falsified, and he knew he should talk to you about it.  But he wasn’t sure how.

You should be happy.  You were in a relationship with a person named Danny, who made you happy at one point, for the last year and a half you were together, but the last two months, it was as if you were unable to be happy.

Today, you sat at your desk in the bullpen, starting at your computer screen with a blank look on your face.  As Spencer watched you, he was sure there was no way you were reading anything.  You looked like your mind was disconnected from the rest of you.  You were worse than ever.

Spencer cleared his throat, to see if that would get your attention, but you didn’t even flinch.  Your eyes were glassed over and detached from the world.  “(Y/N),” Spencer murmured, trying to remain subtle.  Your eyes darted up then, regaining life in them, but only for a second before they looked sad. 

“Spencer,” you replied just as quietly and shifted uncomfortably in your seat. 

He furrowed his eyebrows and watched as you looked away from him quickly.  “Can we talk?”  He asked you and nodded towards the conference room.  You glanced that way too, towards the open door and empty room.

“Now isn’t really a good time,” you tried to lie, but Spencer had already stood and began walking in that direction.  You sighed heavily, quickly locked your computer screen, and followed after him.

Spencer closed the door behind the two of you, and you hovered near the round table, running the tips of your fingers over the top.  Spencer watched you closely, taking in every aspect of you, from the shoes you wore to your hair tied up carefully.  He noticed now, something he didn’t notice before, that your clothes hung from you, as if they were a size or two too large for you.  You lost weight, and he knew this wasn’t good for you.  “You’re somebody else,” he told you without thinking, and watched as your nervous eyes darted up to him. 

You shifted.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Spencer,” you said too quickly.  You knew exactly what he was talking about, but wanted nothing more than to avoid it all.  

“Yes, you do,” he said then, sternly and sharply, in a tone he had never used with you.  Unconsciously, you flinched, and immediately wished you didn’t.  Spencer’s face flushed, and his hands fell to his side as realization struck him.  “Is Danny - ” he began, but you cut him off. 

“Spencer, please don’t,” you whispered to him.  Your eyes fell to the ground as you took a shallow breath.  “You don’t understand,” you began softly as you tugged at your sweater, “It’s my fault.  He asked me to marry him a few months ago, and I said no, and he was mad and knew I was lying when I told him it was because I wasn’t ready.  It’s my fault,” you insisted and pulled your sleeves down over your hands.  “it’s my fault because he knows I fell in love with someone else before I fell in love with him, and he knows he can never compete.  It’s my fault,” you repeated again.  With each word you said, Spencer could feel a chisel breaking his heart into pieces.

There you were, looking so small now, with bags under your eyes and nervous ticks you never had before,  There you were, blaming yourself for something that was absolutely anything but your fault.  Spencer walked to you then, taking you by the shoulders briefly before hugging you to his chest, one arm around your waist and the other wrapping up to hold the back of your neck.  “Is he hurting you?”  Spencer whispered as you took shallow breaths, as if you were hyperventilating. 

You shook your head.  “Only once,” you murmured as you buried your face into Spencer’s chest, as if you were hiding yourself from the world.  “Just once,” you repeated, as if you were trying to convince yourself instead of Spencer.  “He verbally hurts me, more than anything,” you admitted and ducked your head further into him in an attempt to avoid eye contact all together.

Spencer was silent for a moment, as he held you to him, he knew in that moment he would do whatever it takes to remove you from that situation and help you in any and every way he can.  His fingers tangled in your hair as he pulled back slightly to look at you.  You looked up, appearing sad and broken.  “None of this is your fault.  You have done nothing wrong, and you have every right to love whoever you want to love, and you have every right to deny a proposal.  You can do whatever you want, when you want, and no one should tell you differently,” Spencer told you gently but sternly as your eyes became glassy with tears.  “I will fix this.  We will talk to Hotch and get you a restraining order, and you can stay with me until we figure everything out, okay?”  Spencer offered to you quietly. 

You sniffled, the start of a cry you were holding back, and you nodded.  “Do I deserve this, Spence?”  You asked in the most broken voice he had ever heard from you.  His heart shattered as your large, innocent eyes looked up to him.

“Never,” he practically choked out, “You do not deserve this.  This isn’t anything you could do to deserve this.  You deserve the world and so much more, and I will do everything I can to show you this,” he told you.  “Do you want me to get Hotchner?”  He asked as he pulled away from you and pulled a chair out for you to sit in.

Numbly, you nodded.  Spencer nodded as well and leaned down to look at you.  “It will be okay.  We will make it okay, together,” he promised you with a sad smile before standing up and walking to the conference door quickly to get Hotch.

You watched him as he walked.  And, as you didn’t have much to lose, you spoke to him quickly.  “Spencer,” you said, causing him to turn and look.  “It was you.  I fell in love with you years before I even met Danny.  Danny could never compete because he knew I would always love you,” you told him as your eyes met his, looking broken and sad. 

Spencer licked his lips, his hand on the doorknob.  “You’re not ready for this, but I love you, too, but only one problem at a time,” he told you with a small smile. 

For what felt like the first time in weeks, you cracked a smile, looking down at your hands in your lap, and laughed airily and shortly to yourself.  If only the last few months had been as easy as this.

Sleep on the Floor - Spencer Reid

Your smile was Spencer’s favorite thing about you.

He saw it so often, as you were typically the person who brought many jokes, laughs, and positive attitudes.  Your smile was infectious to the whole team, even to Hotchner, who couldn’t resist the smile that grew on his face whenever you were especially optimistic.

Whenever there were times during cases that were unusually dark and the team needed a momentary distraction, you were always there, talking about nonsense that usually made the tension lessen and made focusing all the more easier.

On a late fall night, the team has just finished up a case.  You sat outside Quantico, your bag on the ground next to you as you sat at the curb and waited for a taxi to arrive to take you home.  There was still blood stained on your hands from the latest victim, the one you couldn’t save.  No matter how hard you scrubbed your hands, you were unable to get the stains from the dried blood off.  

Spencer was the last member of the team to leave, and as he shuffled through his bag for his car keys, he spotted you on the curb, staring off at nothing.  Your hands were resting on your knees and holding your head up, as if you would fall over if it weren’t for them.

He watched you, and he could see the blank look in your eyes that was so unfamiliar for you.  As he walked closer, so quietly, he saw the tears that were falling down your face.  “(Y/N)?”  His voice asked without even thinking about it.

You looked up at him, alarmed, as you wiped the tears from your face.  Spencer noticed your shirt collar was dampened from the tears that had fallen previously.  “Spence, hey,” you mumbled as you looked away and tried to avoid eye contact with him. 

“Why are you crying?”  He asked as he lowered himself onto the curb, sitting next to you so your elbow barely brushed. 

Without answering, you looked away.  Silence overcame the two of you, and there were very few cars left in the parking lot.  “Where is your car?”

“The shop,” you answered in a small voice.  

“Do you need a ride?”

Silently, you nodded.  Slowly, Spencer nodded as well, and stood, taking your bag in his hand and holding the other out for you to take.  For a moment, you only stared at his hand with an empty look in your eyes that Spencer hated more than anything at the moment.  Then, as if you gave up, you placed your hand in his and allowed him to pull you to your feet.

The walk to Spencer’s car was silent.  He held the passenger door open for you, and you climbed in numbly.  You stared out the window as he put your bag and his own in the backseat, started the car, and began driving.  “If you want to talk,” Spencer began, but you cut him off. 

“I don’t think I want to be a profiler anymore,” you murmured without even bothering to look over at him.  His breath hitched in his throat for a moment, and without thinking much, he put his turn signal on and pulled off to the side of the road.  

Spencer put the car in park and turned to face you, “What is going on?”  He asked in a quiet and calm voice as best as he could. 

You stared out of the window still, and Spencer could see your lip quivering in your reflection.  You took a long moment to gather yourself and your emotions.  Then, you turned to Spencer with the most pained look he had ever seen on you.  “How do we know what we do even does anything at all?  Why do we work so hard when people are only going to die anyways?  It isn’t worth it, Spencer,” you ranted lightly, and the longer you spoke the louder your voice grew.  Spencer could see the hysterics coming, and was not sure what to do.  “We work hard, we stay up late, away from our families and friends for nothing.  No matter how many people we detain, more and more people are going to be slaughtered and there is not a damn thing we can do about it!” You finally shouted as you began pulling at the sleeve of your bloodstained sweater.  “I need to get out of this, I need to take this off,” you began repeating as you unbuckled your seat belt. 

Spencer was already out of the car and at your door as you flung it open.  He helped you to your feet, and the moment you stood fully, he took the hem of your sweater and pulled it over your head forcefully.  You sobbed as you took the sweater from him and turned, throwing it as far as you could into the woods next to the road.  You stood there, in nothing but a thin undershirt, pressing your hands to your eyes as you sobbed erratically, and Spencer had no idea what to do.

Gently, he took your arm, and pulled you to his chest in the lightest hug he could manage.  You cried against him and allowed him to stroke your hair, a little awkwardly, until you were able to calm yourself down.  

Despite the fact that you stopped sobbing, tears still fell down your face, and you didn’t move to get away from Spencer.  He began to rub your back lightly and spoke.  “I know you tried to save her today,” Spencer murmured, referring to the victim you failed to get to in time, “but that does not mean what we do is pointless, and it does not mean you should quit being a profiler.”  He told you in a quiet but stern voice.  You didn’t move still, resting your forehead on his chest.  It was a foreign but oddly comforting feeling to have you this close. 

“I know,” you finally said softly and looked up at Spencer.  Your face was red and tears still streamed down your face continuously, but you still looked as perfect as ever to him.  “It hurts so bad,” you added as your body shuddered with another sob. 

Spencer moved, opening your car door again, and leading you to sit down.  “I know it does,” he assured you as he leaned in and buckled your seat belt for you. 

He rushed around the other side of his car, stopping to grab your bloody sweater in the process, and threw it into the backseat as he sat down.  “It won’t stop hurting for a long time,” he kept talking as he pulled back onto the road, driving towards your house.  “But what we do is not pointless.  In fact, we have put so many criminals into prison that it is estimated that we have saved the lives of thousands of people, and you have to know that,” Spencer informed quietly but formally, making you feel like sinking further into the seat of his car.  You nodded, without even attempting to verbally reply.  

Spencer sighed softly, reaching over and taking your hand in his.  It felt so unnatural for him to do this, but he knew it wouldn’t take long for him to get used to.  For a long while, as he drove, silence overcame the car.  Neither one of you wanted to be the first to speak, but you knew Spencer was just as stubborn as you were.  “I’m sorry for all of this,” you finally mumbled as Spencer tuned down the suburban street of your neighborhood.  

He pressed his lips together as he pulled into your driveway.  He put his car in park and leaned back in his seat.  “I’m happy I was there.  I don’t want you to apologize.  it would have been far worse on you to be alone, with your thoughts,” he told you as he released his hand and opened his car door.  He gathered your bag and sweater in his hands, and walked around to open your door for you.  Slowly, as you climbed out and looked at your house, your stomach began to hurt.  “What are you thinking?”  Spencer asked as he closed the car door after you, allowing you to lean on it. 

You swallowed hard.  “I don’t want to be alone,” you admitted pathetically and your glassy eyes looked at your feet. 

Spencer gave you a small smile, and opened the back of his car once more and grabbed his own bag.  “You don’t have to be.  I’ll stay,” he murmured to you. 

He dug your own keys from your bag and led you to your front door.  It took him no time at all to unlock and open it, as he was rather familiar with your home.  “You don’t mind?”  You asked as you wandered into your foyer, allowing Spencer to lock up behind the two of you. 

“Of course not,” he replied quietly.  “Why don’t you go wash up in your bathroom, and I will use the hall one, and we will watch a movie after.”  He instructed as he handed you your bag. 

With a ghost of a smile on your lips, you nodded, and walked slowly off to your bathroom.  You took a long shower, scrubbing every inch of your body religiously, trying to wash all the grief and dirt from yourself.  Once you finished, you dried off and dressed in loose pants and a long-sleeved shirt that was too big for you, and walked out to your living room.  Spencer was already there, his hair damp and dressed in a similar outfit to your own, with a movie playing previews on your television.  

Hesitantly, you walked out and sat on the couch next to him, and gave him a small smile.  “Are you feeling better?”  He asked as he handed you a cup of hot chocolate he made.

“Starting to,” you admitted with a slightly wider smile.  

Spencer smiled to himself and the two of you focused on the movie he put on.  As time passed, Spencer put his arm around you, his fingers playing with your damp hair as you leaned into him.  You both fell asleep like that, upright on your couch, feeling more comfortable than you would have ever predicted.

Masterlist

Sing

Slip Away

Slow Hands

Slow It Down

Small Bump

Sober Up

Soundcheck

Southern Nights

Spectacular Revival

Stand Still

Stars

Start a Fire

Stay

Strange Things Will Happen

Step Up the Morphine

Sunburn

Supermarket Flowers

Supermassive Black Hole

Suppose

Take It All Back

Tee Shirt

Teenage Dream

Tenefire Sea

That Would Be Enough

The Tide

They Don’t Know About Us

This

Time to Pretend

Today

Tompkins Square Park

Tonight I’m Getting Over You

Too Close

Too Much to Ask

Too Young

Two Ghosts

Up There

Unwell

Under Pressure

Unsteady

Wait

Wake Me Up

When We Were Young

Where the Skies Are Blue

White Lie

Wilder Mind

Without Words

Without You

The Wolf

Woman [Harry Styles]

Woman [Mumford & Sons]

Wonderful Tonight

Yellow

You and Me

You & I

Ziggy Stardust

1950

Slip Away - Spencer Reid

Spencer has known you for years.  Ever since you joined the team shortly after him, being a year younger than the ground-breaking genius, he has been your closest and best friend.  You were there for him at times that no one else even knew that he needed someone.  You were his person, shamelessly, and you loved him like the family that you both lacked.

Of course, Spencer had his mother, who he loved with every fiber of his being, but you understood him like no one else could.  You understood that he didn’t always want to talk, and you sat in silence with him for hours when he felt this way.  You understood that he didn’t always want to think, and you read him your favorite books, without pausing for breaks to allow him to think.  You catered to his every need, emotion, and thought without skipping a beat.

Naturally, Spencer did the same for you.  Just days after he met you, he realized quickly of your disorder.  You had mirror-touch synesthesia, which was a rare disorder that caused you to feel the same sensations that another person feels.  For example, if someone brushed against a rose bush, you felt the thorns dig into your own skin as if it were you brushing against the rose bush.  Another part of this disorder heightens your empathy, compared to the general population, meaning you could relate to and understand other people’s emotions better or quicker than someone without your disorder.

Spencer took to the small signs of your disorder quickly, when you would cringe when someone would stub their foot, or when Derek Morgan tackled an unsub and the wind would leave your lungs as if you were the one to be tackled.  It was subtle signs that no one else noticed that Spencer took in.  The most notable was the fact that whenever someone would come close to touching you, whether it was to place a hand on your shoulder or to throw a swing at you, you avoided it at every cost you possibly could.  Spencer had never laid a hand on you, and neither had another member of the team.  Not so much as even a brush of your shoulders in the car.

Over time, you explained to Spencer the details of your disorder.  You avoided touch because it often overwhelmed you and caused the feeling to be far more than it was meant to be.  It intimidated you, even though a little bit of touch was typically nothing at all, but you thought it was better to avoid it.

That was your mindset until you got to know Spencer more and more.  One night, as you sat on the other end of the couch from him in his apartment, you set the remote for the television down and looked over at Spencer.

As if he knew you were going to look at him, he marked his place in his book and looked at you with a small, faint smile on his lips.  “You’re perplexed,” Spencer observed as he shifted to face you more.  

You laughed lightly, glancing down at your hands in your lap.  “I thought I was supposed to be the empathetic one, Spencer,” you teased as you shifted as well, facing him.  “Will you,” you paused, searching for words, “Um - Will you hold my hand?”  You asked him shyly.  “If you don’t mind.  I promise, I just washed my hands, like ten minutes ago.”

Spencer began confused for a moment, then his emotions turned to flatter as he gave you a small smile.  “You don’t mind?”  He asked cautiously as he moved closer. 

Hesitantly, you shook your head.  “I’ve haven’t held someone’s hand since I was younger than five years old.  I’ve never trusted someone enough not to take advantage of it,” you admitted in a voice so quiet, Spencer almost misheard you. 

“You trust me?”  He asked incredulously unconsciously and he reached his hand out to you. 

Slowly, you placed your hand in his nervously.  You fell silent as your nerve endings began to go wild.  You felt love, adoration, and arousal surge through your body and into your brain.  You could see what Spencer felt - your clammy, shaking hand holding his so lightly, so delicately, and his calloused, worn hands holding your hand just as gently.  You felt his emotions before, but never as clearly as this.  

You felt every bit of love he had for you, unlike the love he had for the rest of the team, you felt the anxiety he had that he was going to hurt your mind through your disorder somehow.  You felt everything he hid from you so well.

You sucked a sharp breath in, and Spencer moved to pull his hand away, but you only gripped it tighter.  “With my life,” you finally murmured as a new smile Spencer had never witnessed before formed on your lips. 

Life progressed after that night, and you found yourself allowing Spencer to be your person more and more.  Your guards fell for Spencer, and you allowed him into your life like never before.  When you were frightened, or when the wind was knocked from your lungs, your hand gripped Spencer’s so that you were able to take in his calmer, easier emotions, and to feel his heart race at your touch.  He became the stability you always lacked.

~.~

After a day of research, plotting, and analyzing, Spencer sat in your hotel room, on your bed, and watched as you ran your fingers along the wall.  He was amused as you did this.

"Does the wall have feelings?”  Spencer teased you as you turned, a smile playing on your lips.

You huffed and sat on the bed next to him, allowing your leg to brush against his ever so lightly.  “Walls and other inanimate objects provide me with a feeling I know to be just mine, not someone else’s.  It helps calm my mind after a day like today,” you explained and laid back on the bed.  

Spencer watched you still, curious about everything you did, and everything you could feel.  “When you touch me,” Spencer began as a hint of nervousness played on his emotions, “do you feel your sensation and my own?”  He asked curiously.  “Is it similar to having oversensitive nerve endings?”

You were quiet for a moment as you thought about how to describe it.  You stared at the white ceiling.  “You could say that,” you agreed softly.  “It is like I get double the sensation, almost.  That, and emotions are more clear when skin is on skin.  For example,” you said and moved to rest a hand on his, “I feel my skin on yours, and I can feel your skin on mine.  Double the sensation.”  You squeezed his hand lightly, feeling his heartbeat race beneath your fingers.  “As for the emotions, I knew you were anxious of my response before you even finished your question.  Now, with my skin on yours, I can feel the anxiety coursing through your body, to your brain, and your heartbeat picking up at my touch, and the adoration you have for me,” you explained without looking at him.  Your eyes remained on the white ceiling above the two of you.

Slowly, you moved your hand from his, allowing it to rest on the bed next to him, and listened to the silence in the room as he took this information in.  Spencer stared at the white bedspread, trying to overcome the sick feeling he got in the pit of his stomach as his mind registered each and every word you said.  “You know how I feel about you?”  He finally asked in a voice that broke over a word or two. 

Finally, your eyes moved to meet Spencer’s.  You nodded as a red blush fell upon your face.  “Ever since you first allowed me to hold your hand,” you answered with your own anxiety playing in your voice.  You had kept this to yourself for so long in an effort not to upset him, but here you were now, giving him all the secrets you kept.

Again, Spencer fell quiet.  His own brain was consuming each thought he had, trying to make logic of your condition and how it worked, but he was coming up blank.  Perhaps it was that your condition was rather rare, or the fact that your eyes on his made him forget every single thing he’s ever remembered.  “You got all of that from our hands touching?”  He asked you incredulously. 

With a blush, you nodded faintly.  “That’s right,” you answered quietly.  You glanced away, back up to the ceiling as your face began to feel more and more hot.  “It makes me wonder what more contact would do.  Like, more intimate contact, you know?”  You admitted with an embarrassed tone in your voice. 

Spencer was at a loss for words.  What you said made sense, but he was hung up on a thought in the back of his head.  Without thinking, he spoke, “You’ve never had sex?”  Spencer asked incredulously.  

It was near impossible for him to believe.  You were so kind, charming, and near perfect in every way, without even taking into account how truly attractive you were.  How could a person not have courted you by now?

You laughed softly.  “Spencer, I’ve never held someone’s hand before I met you.  I've never even kissed someone before,” you admitted softly as you sat up, but leaned back on your hands.  “I suppose my mind has always made that sort of thing a taboo to me.”

Spencer had a million questions to ask you, but he spoke the first one that came to his mind.  “Have you ever had feelings for someone enough to consider,” he paused, searching for the right word, “that,” he finished lamely with a blush on his face. 

It didn’t take you any time to think about it.  You nodded and slid off the bed, walking to the window of the hotel room.  “Yeah, actually,” you answered quietly and ran your hand up your arm, trying to remain casual. “Can I be honest with you, Spencer?”

As you spoke, Spencer realized how much he truly enjoyed hearing his name fall from your lips.  Why hadn’t he noticed it before?  “Of course.  You always can,” he assured you as he watched your nervous ticks from the bed.  He always noticed when you were anxious, which was quite often.  You showed it so well, at least enough for him to pick up them rather quickly.

You wouldn’t look at him, but instead at the skyline of the city you were in.  “I never truly considered it, or even so much as thought about it, until I met you,” you admitted in a quiet, shy voice that Spencer knew too well.  You were shaking as your hand gripped the cheap hotel curtain.  You finally turned to him, stealing a glance at his blushed face, and kept speaking before he could get the chance.  “I know it is silly and entirely inappropriate to think about, but I probably like you far more than I should, Spence, and I’ve never truly had feelings for someone before.  I thought I was broken in more way than one, unable to feel romantically about anyone, unable to love, and then I met you,” you admitted weakly as you watched Spencer closely. His face remained expressionless, but it flushed more and more.  

“Just to be clear,” Spencer began but you cut him off.

“I want to kiss you, yeah, and so much more,” you spoke quickly and pressed your hands to your face in a lame attempt to hide your embarrassment. 

Spencer fell silent, but stood, and held his hand out to you.  After a moment, you uncovered your miserable face, and your eyes fell upon his outstretched hand.  With a small exhale, you stepped forward slightly, and placed your outstretched hand into his own.  Slowly, and gently, he pulled you to him, so you stood only a couple inches from his body, and your breathing was shallow.  his heart was racing through your nerve endings and you were sure you never felt him more anxious that in this moment now.  “Please tell me to stop if you are uncomfortable,” Spencer whispered to you in a hoarse voice, one that was unfamiliar to you.  Numbly, you nodded.  

So slowly, and so hesitantly, Spencer leaned down and his lips barely brushed against yours.  Your eyes fluttered shut, and you sucked a hard breath in at the slight contact, causing Spencer to pull away quickly.  “I’m sorry,” he began, but you took the collar of cardigan and pulled him back to your lips, kissing him fully.  Your body surged full of love and arousal, and you felt Spencer’s gentle hands on your waist as he pulled you so carefully against him.  Spencer’s touch was sending your mind whirling, and you felt so dizzy at the overstimulation, that when you finally pulled away, you began to fall.

Spencer caught you, his eyes wide and his breath as shallow and heavy as your own.  “(Y/N)?  Are you all right?”  He asked worriedly as he held your shoulders to keep your steady.

With a drunken-like smile on your lips, you nodded.  “I’ve truly never been better, Spencer.  Just a little overstimulated,” you assured him softly as your shaking hands rested on his chest.  

“I’m sorry,” Spencer apologized again, but moved his hand up to push a piece of your hair behind your ear and caressed your cheek.

With a small hum, you leaned into his hand and closed your eyes.  “Don’t ever apologize to me,” you murmured to him as you opened your eyes again and looked at him, “You are so kind to me, Spencer.”

Spencer smiled lightly and stroked your cheek with his slightly rough thumb, causing a shiver to run down your spine.  “I don’t see why anyone wouldn’t be kind to you,” he murmured softly, and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

For a moment, the two of you remained silent, enjoying the feeling of intimate touch, and loving thoughts.

angst or fluff?

Slow Hands - Spencer Reid

Spencer knew the way you moved too well.  He had spent so long observing every little move you would make, from drawing your gun to shuffling through papers.  He knew the way you moved like the back of his hand. 

Everything you did was rather calm.  In fact, Spencer would almost go as far to say that you were slow.  You were never in much of a rush, and if you were, you were able to hide it so perfectly.  This day was no exception as you sat across from him at the round table, going through the case file and any evidence you had for the case at hand. 

Your hair was in a long braid down your back, something you did rarely, but Spencer loved.  Your eyes wouldn’t meet his as he stared at you, watching your intricate fingers move from page to page, observing each any every document so carefully.  He watched as you drew your lip into your mouth, biting it softly between your slightly crooked teeth. 

His stomach was churning as he watched you and he found it so difficult to sit still.  Thankfully, it was only the two of you in the room, as it was quite obvious that Spencer was slightly aroused by you at the moment.

There was always a thick, unspoken tension between you and Spencer that you often liked to play up when alone.  You flirted with him shamelessly, hoping to drive him to the point where he would finally make a move to you, but he was so stubborn and naive that it had yet to happen. 

However, at this point, you were not trying to entice Spencer.  In fact, you were very into the case in front of you, and you ignored the quiet room around you as you were lost in your thoughts.  You had no idea that what you were doing was torturing Spencer.

Spencer, on the other hand, could not think about the case at the moment as he watched you.  He swallowed hard, shifting in his seat, and glanced back down at the case file in front of him every so often in a poor attempt to focus. 

Only a few moments passed before he glanced back up at you, in your beauty, and was unable to look away.  His eyes searched your face, watching as your eyebrows twitched every so often at what you were reading, and how the corner of your mouth turned up or down at what was in front of you.  Then, again, you bit your lip, and Spencer felt like there was a rock in his abdomen.

You glanced up finally, feeling eyes on you, and your eyes met Spencer’s.  Simultaneously, heat rose to both of your cheeks as you ducked your heads back to the case file. 

Not long after that, you spoke to Spencer in a voice that was so light and angelic that he felt like he was going to fly into the heaven he didn’t believe in.  “What is so interesting, Spencer?”  You asked without even looking up from your work.  

Unconsciously, Spencer had been watching you again.  “Oh, erm, nothing, sorry,” Spencer stuttered out uncharacteristically and looked back down at his papers with a face that was redder than it had ever been. 

You chuckled and still didn’t look up, but you were no longer reading the documents in front of him.  “I think it is a female,” you told Spencer after a moment and stood from your seat gracefully.

You walked around to his side of the table and pushed a chair to the side so you could sit on the edge of the table, right next to Spencer.  Silently, you handed him a picture that he didn’t even notice was in your hands.

Spencer glanced at it, but he honestly couldn’t tell you what it was a picture of, if you asked, because he was trying so hard to remain calm next to you.  How could you be so calm?  Your thigh was just inches from his hands.

You leaned forward, your fingers tracing slash marks on one of the victims.  “The injuries and damage to the body, it is so careful and hesitant, in all of the victims.  Women tend to be lighter handed when doing something of this volume,” you reasoned with Spencer as he looked up at you.  His eyes lingered on your face, appreciating your beauty.

With a nod, he agreed.  “It makes sense.  It fits the fact that when those who could have been around for the kidnapping not seeing anything.  More often than not, people do not suspect anything when they see two women arguing in public,” he added in his factual voice, making you smile.  

“And, that would explain the careful, remorseful-like dumping of the bodies.  Women tend to show more remorse than men,” you added factually as you clapped your hands together.  “I knew you would get me, Spencer,” you told him happily as your eyes searched his.  You saw the look his was trying to hard to suppress.  The admiration and the lust buried in his features, in his eyes.  If he felt this way, which was obvious, why wouldn’t he say anything?  Why wouldn’t you?

With a small, disappointed sigh, you leaned back on your hands and hummed softly.  “You call Hotch and I will call Penelope?”  You offered with a small frown playing on your lips. 

Spencer gave you a short nod and dug his phone from his pocket.  He couldn’t help but wonder why your mood shifted from excited to disappointed to quickly.

~.~

Much later, as the rest of the team was interviewing others, you sat at the station, manning any calls that came in and going through further reports that could possibly match.  Before too long, as the night took over the sky, you stood and stretched just as the team walked through the front doors of the precinct.  “Did you all hear anything interesting?”  You asked quietly as you leaned against the table, trying to keep your eyes open.  

“Nothing too interesting,” Derek answered as he fell into a chair, leaning his head into his hands.

Hotch checked the time on his watch and then glanced around the room at the tired faces waiting for instruction.  “Let’s head back to the hotel and rest.  We will start again first thing in the morning, and hopefully come to better conclusions,” he ordered and dug the keys to the SUV from his pocket.  You followed behind, rather slow, and smiled faintly as Spencer fell into pace with you. 

He glanced at you with a slightly reddened face.  “You look tired,” he observed as he obviously struggled to remain in a slow pace with you. 

With a small laugh, you nodded to him.  “Yeah, but I am not sure I am going to be able to sleep,” you admitted with lazy eyes as you glanced up at the dark sky.  There were no stars, due to the bright lights of the city you were in.

Spencer hesitated for a moment as he came to a stop and glanced down the road, towards the many city lights that were still so lively.  He looked back at you, as your eyes focused up at the sky, and his stomach tied into a knot as he observed your innocent eyes that have seen so much pain, murder, and aggression.  But there you were, calm and innocent looking, and Spencer wanted nothing more than to press his lips to yours, to feel how soft they would be against his own. 

“Spence,” you said, tugging in from his thoughts.  He realized then he had been staring at you, and you were no longer looking up at the sky.  There was an unfamiliar smile on your lips as you looked at him.  The rest of the team was loading into two SUVs, and you leaned close so only he could hear you.  “You should come to my room when we get back,” you murmured to him as you squeezed his arm lightly.  You gave him a sultry smile and walked towards the second car before he could respond or react.

“Spencer, are you coming?” Derek Morgan asked from the first car.  He glanced at you once more, then at Morgan, and nodded as he retreated to the car you were not in.  Silently, in his mind, he cursed the fact that he had to separate from you.  The ride was silent, and your voice was echoing through Spencer’s head relentlessly, and what they could have meant.  It seemed to be obvious, but he was so ignorant to whether or not that could be the fact. 

~.~

When the SUV rolled up the hotel, he spotted the empty second SUV parked in the parking lot.  You were already inside, perhaps already in your room.  

Spencer retreated to his room, brushed his teeth and hair quickly, and gave the rest of the team enough time to get to their rooms before he stepped out in the hall.  We was not sure what he would say to any other team member if they caught him in the hall outside your door.

He practically sprinted down the hall to your room, and knocked three times as quietly as he could.  He waited a moment, and raised his hand to knock once more, but the door opened with incredible speed, and your fingers wrapped around his raised wrist, and you yanked him into the room.  This was the fastest he had ever seen you move.  You were usually so calm, but this was urgent.

With just as much speed, you kicked the door shut behind him, and then pushed him by the shoulders against the door, closing it the rest of the way.  Before he had the chance to speak, your hands were on either side of his face, kissing him hungrily and desperately.  Initially, Spencer didn’t know how to react, but it only took mere seconds for him to wrap his arms around your back, pulling you as tightly against him as he could.  

“I’ve been wanting to do this for so long,” you broke the kiss and murmured this against his lips. 

Spencer smiled unbelievably, as if he were dreaming. “Why haven’t you?”

“Why haven’t you?”  You repeated to him and pressed your lips to his again, running your finger through his hair as he led you backwards, into your hotel room without breaking the kiss.

Spencer’s fingers dug into your back, making your stomach tighten and your kisses sloppier.  “We shouldn’t do this,” Spencer said between kisses as you pushed his cardigan down his shoulders. 

You pulled away just far enough to look him in the eyes.  “Do you want to stop?”  You asked softly.

Instead of a verbal response, Spencer kissed you once more as his hands fumbled to remove his cardigan.  His mind was reeling from what was happening, and he knew it was a horrible idea, but the feeling was so blissful that he was sure that he would not regret it anytime soon.

Sing - Spencer Reid

As you settled in around the large table of the meeting room, you tucked your long hair behind your ear with a delicate smile playing on your lips. 

You just returned from a long weekend out of town, so you had missed a single day of work before returning.  You attended your best friend’s wedding in Maine on Friday, where you proceeded to spend the rest of the weekend and Monday on your own as a little vacation by yourself.  You were happy to be back, but you were missing your newlywed best friend, who was off on her honeymoon in San Francisco at the moment. 

The others gathered quickly as well, sharing small nods and words of welcome back to you.  Spencer, the member of the team who knew you the best, settled in next to you with a wide smile.  “How was Maine?”  He asked you quietly as Penelope began handing out paper files. 

“Beautiful as ever,” you told him with a smile.  Your face flushed as you spoke your next thought, “It would have been far better if I had convinced you to come, though,” you murmured to him so only he could hear. 

You and Spencer had an unspoken romance in place in which you often flirted and spent a lot of time together, but did not often talk about how you felt about one another, due to the conflict of working together. 

Spencer blushed, but chuckled quietly as you both opened the files.  “You will all be going to San Francisco for this next case,” Penelope explained quickly as she used a device in her hand to move the pictures on the large television behind you.  “A newlywed couple on their honeymoon is the second couple this month to be murdered in their hotel room shortly after arriving,” Penelope explained as chills ran through your spine.  The thoughts crossing your mind included what a small world it was that another newlywed couple in the same town as your best friend was murdered.  As you flipped through the police reports and other documents, your blood ran cold and you choked on the air you were breathing.  In front of you, in a cruel, bloody photo, was your best friend. 

The team stopped talking, looking at you, and you stood clumsily, knocking your chair back.  “(Y/N) - are you all right?”  Derek Morgan asked as you made a beeline towards the door.  

“Excuse me, I... I’ve got to make a call,” you called over your shoulder as you practically ran through the busy and bustling building to the restroom. 

Spencer watched in horror.  He had never seen your face to pale and horrified.  He glanced down to what you were looking at, and it dawned on him. 

Aaron Hotchner glanced at Jennifer Jareau, “JJ, will you go check,” he began, but Spencer’s quick voice cut him off. 

“This is (Y/N)’s best friend,” Spencer explained as he stood, “It was their wedding she went to this weekend.  I’ll go,” he said firmly. 

Aaron nodded solemnly as Penelope put her hand to her mouth.  Spencer left the room then, barely catching sight of you escaping into the women’s restroom across the way.  Spencer walked quickly, trying not to attract attention to the situation.  Spencer hovered outside of the women’s restroom, before he swore under his breath and pushed the door open.

He walked past the stalls, spotting you kneeling in front of one of the toilets, dry heaving into it after you already emptied the contents of your stomach into one of them.  Quickly, Spencer drew your hair behind you, out of the way of your face and vomit.  “Take a few deep breaths,” Spencer murmured to you as his free hand rubbed circles into your back.  

“She can’t be gone, Spence.  I was literally one of her bridesmaids less than a week ago,” you exclaimed into the toilet, as you sat back on your knees.  Your stomach was empty and it hurt, and tears were refusing to fall down your face.  It was as if you didn’t believe it yet.  

Spencer released your hair as he kneeled on the floor next to you, ignoring the screaming voice in his head that was telling him to get off the dirty floor, and he reached forward to tuck your hair behind your ears.  “I don't know what to say,” Spencer admitted quietly with a sharp frown, “Other than there is nothing you can do to change what happened.  Its already done, and I am so sorry, but there is going to be another person feeling the same way as you if we, as a team, do not stop who did this,” Spencer explained.

For a long moment, you remained silent, staring at the slightly dirty tile floor you sat on, and finally nodded.  Spencer gave you a small smile as he went to his feet quickly, holding his hand down to you.  You allowed him to help you up, standing a little too close to him for a second too long.  You blushed, stepping back and flushing the contents of your stomach quickly.  “You’re right,” you agreed softly as Spencer backed out of the stall, allowing you room to walk to the sink.  “But I need to brush my teeth.  Do you mind getting my toothbrush from my go bag under my desk?”  You asked him with an embarrassed smile.  Spencer opened his mouth to speak, but you interrupted him, “I know, I know I shouldn’t.  But I don't care.  Please,” you half begged and watched as Spencer gave you a faint smile and nodded, leaving the bathroom. 

You barely had enough time to dab your face with a cool paper towel before Spencer returned, a light blush on his face for entering the women’s restroom.  He handed you a small toiletry bag he found in your bigger go bag, and began backing towards the door, “I really shouldn’t be in here,” he said quietly as he glanced towards the door.

With the saddest eyes Spencer had ever witnessed from you, you nodded slightly.  “I understand,” you mumbled pathetically as you began to tug the toiletry bag open. 

Spencer hesitated, watching as your shaking hands fumbled and struggled to open the bag, and he sighed, moving to remove the bag from your hand.  He snatched it, opening it briskly, and set it on the sink before pulling you into his arms quickly.  Spencer held you to his chest and rubbed small circles into your back.  Slowly, you wrapped your arms around his torso, rested your head on his chest, and took a couple deep breaths to calm you down.  “Its going to be extremely difficult,” Spencer spoke as he held you, “but I want you to know that I will be next to you the entire time.  Whenever you need me,” Spencer reminded you in a quiet, hushed voice.  Tears welled up in your eyes for the first time, and you nodded against his chest. 

“I don’t think I could do this without you, Spencer,” you admitted without looking up at him.  He smiled slightly, despite the situation, and stepped out of his comfort zone as he placed a lingering kiss on the top of your head.  You sucked a breath in, not expecting it, but your heart fluttered like never before.  

He stepped back then, surprisingly to your dismay, and gave you a small nod.  “I’ll be just outside the door,” he told you and turned to walk away. 

“Thank you,” you replied weakly as you watched him slip from the door.  With a shaky sigh, you rested your hands on the sink.  Every word you said was true; you would not be able to continue this day if it weren’t for Spencer.

Slow It Down - Spencer Reid

It felt abnormally dark.  To the point where you would almost think that there was a power outage in the city, but it was just the cloudy sky and lack of life on the street.  Spencer walked quickly towards his apartment, which was almost four blocks away from the small Chinese restaurant that he just had dinner at with Penelope Garcia.

Penelope nearly begged Spencer to let her drive him the short distance home, given that it was nearing eleven o’clock at night, but Spencer insisted he would walk.  He wasn’t quite sure why, but something told him to walk.

On the other side of the street, he could see you walking in the same direction.  Your hands were in your coat pockets and the sophisticated heels you wore clicked with every rapid step you took.  He could tell by your demeanor and your clothing that you worked in some kind of high-end office, but he couldn’t quite decide why you were out alone so late. 

Oddly enough, as you walked on the other side of the street, only a bit further than him, he was unable to take his eyes off of you.  From your long legs that were covered in some kind of stockings, to your light hair that bounced with every step.  You were alluring, to say the least, and it was rare for Spencer to notice a woman, let alone someone random on the street.

As he watched, he also noticed the man who stepped out from an alley you passed only seconds ago, and Spencer watched as he began walking so fast towards you, and the odd demeanor he had that told Spencer that he was up to no good.  

He watched closely as the man sneaked up behind you, walking at the same pace as your own so you wouldn’t hear his footsteps, and he reached forward, snagging your arm into his hand. 

“Let go,” you snapped at him loud enough for Spencer to hear. 

Unconsciously, Spencer began crossing the road immediately.  “Hey darling, slow it down, I’m no threat,” the man said as he pushed his face far too close to your own.  

You struggled, trying to yank your arm from his grasp, but he started pulling you in the opposite direction, towards Spencer.  “Stop, let go!”  You yelled now and started swatting at him and punching it him, but to no avail.

Without even thinking about it, Spencer put his hand on the gun hidden beneath his jacket, secured to his waist.  His other hand reached into his pocket, yanking his credentials from out, and he held them up.  “FBI!”  Spencer shouted as he got near the name who was otherwise going to walk right by him, dragging you along.  

The man faltered, but looked at Spencer oddly, “Don’t listen to her, man.  She’s my girlfriend who just drank too much at the bar,” the sleazy man lied, giving Spencer a smirk, “You know how women are.”

Angry Spencer pulled his jacket up to flash his weapon.  “Are you sure you weren’t lurking in that alley, waiting for someone to walk by to try to take?”  Spencer snapped at the man let go of you, and you backed away quickly, your back hitting a street light sharply. 

Spencer watched you wince in the corner of his eye, but his focused remained on the man as he began walking away quickly, without a word or even another glance.  Spencer’s gaze followed him until he turned the corner, two blocks down, and then he turned back to you.

Your back was still pressed to the street lamp, and your chest was rising and falling rapidly.  You were on the brink of hyperventilating.  “Thank you so much,” you breathed out, barely able to speak.  Before Spencer could even react, you threw yourself against him, your arms wrapping rightly around his shoulders, and your hair tickling his face. 

“Oh,” he said awkwardly to begin with as his hands remained at his side.  Slowly, after a few seconds, he adjusted and hugged you back to lightly with hesitant hands.

You pulled back, your face equally as red as Spencer’s and your eyes were watering, “I’m sorry, it is just that if you weren’t here, I could have died tonight and that is a terrifying thought.  I can’t thank you enough.”  Your eyes were far passed glassy as your lip trembled. 

Spencer gave you a small, hesitant smile and glanced around him.  “Are you heading home?”  He asked you calmly.  You nodded, biting your lip between your teeth to keep from crying.  “Can I walk you the rest of the way?”  He asked you hesitantly.  Either way, whether you said yes or no, he was going to follow you, to be sure you were safe.

With wide, thankful eyes, you nodded eagerly, “Please, if you don’t mind, that would be wonderful,” you rambled, your face growing more and more heated by the second.

Spencer chuckled, finding everything about you to be absolutely adorable.  How could anyone, like that man, care to hurt you?  The two of you began walking in the same direction as you began with, and you made quiet conversation with one another.  “I didn’t get your name,” you told Spencer as you looked up to him, putting your hands back into the pockets of your jacket. 

“Spencer Reid,” Spencer told you softly, giving you a small and kind smile.  

You nodded.  “I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N/), by the way.  I never really got to introduce myself,” you mumbled, slightly embarrassed by your shrill behavior, but in the situation, you were unable to really help it.  “Are you really in the FBI?”  You continued to question Spencer as your wide and innocent eyes kept glancing up to him, as he if would disappear at any moment.

Spencer chuckled, but he nodded.  “I am.  I am a part of the Behavioral Analysis Unit,” he explained as you listened hardheartedly to his every word.

“Wicked,” you replied quietly, “You make being a college professor sound like a walk in the meadow.”  You laughed then, unintentionally pulling Spencer into you more.  

Far too quickly, you were in front of your apartment, and you came to a stop with a small frown playing on your lips.  You wanted to keep talking to Spencer.  “Well, this is my stop,” you said hesitantly, almost wanting to lie and keep walking with him through the dark streets.

Spencer frowned as well, but glanced up at your building, and his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.  “Is this some kind of joke?”  He asked you as his eyes fell down to you, which were equally as confused. 

“No?”  You replied, more like a question than an answer.  You glanced at your apartment building as well, trying to figure out what he meant.  “This is my apartment.  No jokes.”

Spencer stared at you a minute before a smile fell on his lips.  “Mine too,” he said and this crooked smile formed on his lips that made your heart flutter. 

With a laugh, you shook your head.  “No way,” you said with a laugh, and Spencer nodded.  “Well, in that case, since you are technically already home, can I make you a cup of coffee for your troubles?”  You asked hopefully, as you were not quite ready to be finished with Spencer. 

He smiled wider, and nodded.  “That would be great, actually.  Thank you.”

After this moment, the night got away from you both.  Neither of you felt tired anymore as you sat across from one another at your kitchen table, until the sun began to rise once more, and there was never a dull moment.

You spoke of your jobs, your families, and interests.  You listened as Spencer spoke, giving odd facts and statistics every so often, and you were unable to fight the smile that did not fade from your face for one moment the entire night.

It was as the sun rose in the window behind you, illuminating your now day-old hair that Spencer knew, despite it being less than 12 hours since he met you, that he loved you.

Woman - Spencer Reid

The smell was overwhelming.  

You were somewhere in rural Arizona, in a part of the desert that is typically not inhabited or visited.  However, the decomposing and partially consumed body had brought quite the gathering when it was discovered.

That included you and your team, the BAU from Quantico, Virginia, and you used the sleeve of your shirt to cover your nose in a desperate but pathetic attempt to protect yourself from the smell.

You tucked your hair behind your ear as you crouched by the body, observing it closely.  Derek Morgan was next to you, looking as well at anything you could possibly identify.  “Hey, Derek,” you mused out loud, your head tilting to the side as you stared at something.  He hummed in response, his nose scrunched up at the smell.  With a gloved hand, you pointed to a specific missing chunk of flesh.  “Does that look like what I think it does?”  You asked ambiguously, silently hoping and praying you were wrong. 

It took a moment for Derek to realize what you were pointing at, but when he did, he stood up straight like a bat out of Hell, and turned towards one of the canopies the local sheriff’s office put up.  “Hotch!”  He yelled, and quicker than anything, as you remained crouched, Aaron Hotchner approached quickly.  

Derek pointed at the same spot you did.  “(Y/N) found this.  Is that not a human bite mark?”  He asked dully, knowing the answer.  It was rather obvious, but you needed confirmation yourself.  

Aaron leaned over the body, looking at it, before pulling his cell phone out.  “Garcia, from that list we pulled earlier, identify all of those we have dental records for.”  He muttered into the phone quickly. 

That was your confirmation. 

You stood, your stomach feeling queasy at both the smell and the thought of cannibals, and you walked behind one of the SUVs you arrived in quickly and leaned over, emptying the contents of your stomach into the rocks, dirt, and sand under your feet.  

~.~

After your little vomiting stunt at the disposal sight, Aaron put you at the sheriff’s office going through records and drawing connections behind the scenes with Spencer Reid, whose leg was still recovering from being shot on a prior case. 

You sat in a roller chair with your knees to your chest, pressing your forehead to your knees.  You were breathing slowly, trying to calm yourself down, but you were unable.  Since being at the disposal sight, you have gotten sick twice, both thankfully in a toilet, and your stomach was still doing back flips. 

It was silent other than the shuffling of papers and records from Spencer, and after about a half an hour of you with your head between your knees, Spencer finally moved into the seat next to you. 

“How are you feeling?”  He asked as he began to pull your hair from around you and taking a hairband from his wrist, tying your hair up into a messy bun.  Lazily, you lifted your head.  

Spencer has always been kind and close to you.  He was often the one you worked with the most, as you gave each other endless ideas and encouragement when together.  However, there was always an unspoken tension between you two, and there was not a doubt in your mind that you liked Spencer far more than you should.

There was a throbbing in the front of your head that you were unable to rid yourself of.  “Deathly,” you answered in a plain voice but gave Spencer a small smile as he let your hair go and it miraculously stayed on the top of your hair.  “Thank you, Spence.  I probably look like Hell.”  

Spencer smiled lightly, but shook your head.  “I think you look beautiful.  You always look beautiful,” Spencer assured you with a slightly crooked smile.

With a small blush, you gave him the faintest of smiles, but sighed slightly.  “If only.  If I am so beautiful, why am I so lonely all the time?”  You asked bitterly and out of character for yourself, which you soon realized.  “Sorry, Spencer.  I think it is because I keep getting sick that I am being bitter,” you apologized quickly and moved to stand up to get a glass of water.  The moment you were standing upright, you began to feel dizzy and your vision became a little spotty.

Quickly, as you swayed lightly, Spencer grabbed your arm and steadied you.  “Please, sit down,” he ordered and pushed you back into your chair, “What are you trying to do?”  He asked you quietly as you pressed your palms to your eyes. 

“I just was going to get some water,” you muttered and pressed your lips together, your stomach churning.  You knew you were feeling this way due to having an empty stomach and the lack of hydration.  

You heard Spencer walk away, and just a few moments later, you felt him take your hand and place a bottle of water in it.  “Drink,” he ordered you, and you did as he said, opening your tired eyes to look at him.  He watched you closely with soft eyes, obviously feeling bad for you.  

After you drank nearly half the bottle, and as Spencer continued looking through records and such, you finally spoke in a soft voice, “Thank you, Spencer.  I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know.”  Slowly, you stood, your hair still in the messy bun on your head, and you walked over to him.

Out of both yours and his comfort zone, you walked up to him as he turned, and wrapped your arms securely around his torso and rested your head on his chest, sighing lightly.  For a split second, Spencer stood as still as stone, and was afraid to move.  He was afraid that if he moved, this beautiful dream he was having would end, and you’d be gone.  But, he knew better.  

He wrapped his arms around you gently, pressing his fingertips into your back and pressing you closer to him.  The feeling of you in his arms was indescribable, and every thought he ever had of you, every loving, admiring thought he had surface, and impulsively, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.  

You stood there like that for quite a while, resting in his arms, as he held you unfaltering, and God knew he would not be the one to let go first.  Quietly, as he held you, he spoke, and you listened to the rumble in his chest, “I don’t know the loneliness you’ve known, but every single time I see you, no matter the situation, what happened before I saw you, or how bad you feel, I am left in awe of the woman I adore,” Spencer told you bravely, and you smiled and glanced up to him, but not letting go, 

“Spencer, you are truly an enigma.  I can’t read your mind, and I never know what you are thinking, but you always surprise me.”  You eyes fell a little, focusing on a freckle on his neck, and you sighed lightly.  “Spencer, can I call you mine?”  You asked bravely as well.

A smile curved onto Spencer’s lips as he chuckled.  “I was going to ask the same thing,” he told you honestly as you giggled as well. 

With a wider smile growing on your own lips, you finally looked up at him fully.  “Well, if I say yes, will you?”  You asked cheekily and scrunched your nose up at him. 

Spencer nodded, his hand moving from around you to your face, holding your cheek in your hand.  “Yes,” he answered and the smile on his face was unrelenting.  

You were unable to keep yourself from laughing as you spoke, “Please don’t kiss me, I just threw up three times.”  

Small Bump - Spencer Reid

You were three months along.  It has come to the point where baggy shirts no longer hid your secret from the rest of the team, and Spencer has been itching to tell them the news.

It was going to be a “double whammy” surprise.  For the last three, almost four years of your life, Spencer has been your boyfriend.  Out of sheer respect, Aaron Hotchner was the only one that knew of your relationship, and as far as the others knew, you were just close friends.  When you realized you were carrying Spencer’s child, after telling Spencer and being as happy as you could be, you told Aaron Hotchner in work the next morning. 

Naturally, he was incredibly happy for the two of you, and worked well with you to keep you from the field as best as he could without exposing your secret to the rest of the team, but it was to the point where you were no longer able to hide it.  

You joined the team last, after having thrown up in the bathroom due to morning sickness, at the round table, but you didn’t sit down.  You stood next to Spencer, where you always sat, and as the team all talked among each other, you became nervous. 

“Everyone, I have an announcement,” you half-shouted to get their attention, interrupting their conversations, and they focused on you. 

Penelope’s eyes widened.  “You’re not leaving, are you?”  She asked worriedly as she sat almost directly across from you, her face pale. 

You laughed quietly, shaking your head.  “No, darling, I am not leaving you,” you told her, much to her relief. “Not yet,” you added mysteriously, and watched as everyone’s eyes widened. 

“What do you mean?”  JJ asked cautiously.  

It was no doubt that every person in the room was profiling you, but after the years upon years of experience you had with them, you were good at hiding anything.  Aaron, however, watched you with a small, knowing smile on his lips. 

“If you all would stop asking questions, I could get to the point!”  You scolded with a smile on your face.  “What I mean is,” you said and ran your hand down your stomach, pressing the fabric of the tunic you wore to your stomach, revealing the growing, small bump, “that when this little one arrives, I am going to need some time off.”  You finished, your face red and the nervous smile on your lips undeniable.  

The team erupted in congratulations then, circling you and giving you as many hugs as they could, all while Spencer stood back with an amused look on his face.  “That is wonderful, (Y/N)!  When do we get to meet the lucky father?”  Emily asked excitedly as she pressed her hand to your stomach so lightly, feeling your bump.

With a small laugh, you raised your voice again.  “That is what brings me to my second announcement.”  You declared proudly as you rested a hand on your hip.  “Spencer and I have been in a relationship for almost four years now, and he’s the lucky father.”  You announced and watched as total chaos ensued.  

Penelope was squealing, wrapping her arms around you and swaying you from side to side as the team began hugging Spencer as well.  Your laugh sounded like a bell as everyone was awestruck.  

“Reid!  (Y/N)!  How could you not tell us?!”  JJ asked you as she hugged you once more.  “Can I?”  She asked as her hand hovered over your stomach.  With a giddy smile, you nodded.  JJ pressed her hand to your stomach, and her eyes welled up with tears.  “This is amazing.  You and Spencer are going to be amazing parents.”  She murmured to you and hugged you yet again, squeezing your shoulders tightly.  

You hadn’t realized it, as both you and Spencer were the center of attention, but Aaron Hotchner made his way to you, resting his hand on your shoulder, and causing you to turn around.  He was smiling, and you swore for a split second, you saw tears in his eyes as well.  “Thank you, sir, for always being there when we need you.”  You murmured as you threw your arms around him, bringing him down to closer your size and hugging him as tight as you could.

Aaron chuckled, hugging you to gently, and he pulled back, his hands resting on your shoulders.  “Always.  I’m proud of you and Reid,” he told you quietly and let go completely.

Your heart swelled at all the love you received from your friends you considered family, and Spencer soon stood by your side, placing one hand on his stomach.  You smiled up to him, leaning against his frame, and you rested your head on his shoulder.  

The two of you didn’t need to say anything.  You were both so content now, and it was obvious as Spencer placed a kiss to the top of your head as his hand skimmed over your swelling stomach.

Sober Up - Spencer Reid

You didn’t drink.

The entire team knew this, and they respected it, and took advantage of it by using you as the designated driver whenever they had outings.  You didn’t mind.  You often had fun taking care of your drunken team, and you enjoyed spending time with them.

However, when it came around to being your 30th birthday, the team was simply floored when you told them that it was someone else’s turn to be the designated driver.  You explained to the group of them as you left Quantico that night that you were going to drink, and you were going to drink more than you should, and you were going to say things you shouldn’t, and that they should just go with it. 

Surprisingly, no one had an issue with this, either.  

After getting to the club, it did not take you long to begin drinking.  In fact, in two hours, you were already dizzy beyond belief, but the smile on your face was unable to fade.  Derek Morgan had an arm around you, telling you jokes and stories to make you laugh louder than you had in a long time, while the others joined in every so often to make you smile further, while others danced.

Your eyes perked up suddenly, and you looked at Spencer from across the table.  “Spencer, kid, genius, would you mind getting me some water?”  You asked out of the blue, interrupting his conversation with Emily Prentiss.

He looked at you, a sweet smile on his lips, and he stood.  “Of course.  Anything for the birthday girl,” he mildly flirted, to which the few others at the table raised their eyebrows.

“Derek, can I tell you a secret?”  You asked him with a giddy giggle as you leaned into his shoulder, sipping on a large cocktail you didn’t know the name of.

Derek smirked, and chuckled, before he spoke, “Of course, babe,” he told you.  Derek was your closest friend when you were sober, so naturally, when you were not, he was like a brother to you. 

You leaned in close to his ear, laughing, and desperately trying to keep your voice even.  “I really fucking love Spencer Reid,” you told him and pulled back, giggling more.  

Derek’s eyes widened as he looked at you.  Both this admission and the fact that you were cussing surprised him, as you were typically pretty calm and proper.  “Do you mean you love him like you love me, as a friend, or do you love him like you want to jump into bed with him?”  Derek asked you with an amused look on his face.  He had his suspicions for some time that you had a thing for Spencer, but never asked you outright.  

Again, you laughed.  “Neither, really, although jumping in bed with him would be really cool,” you answered as you looked at the awkward man at the bar, waiting in line to order you a water you were probably not going to drink anyways,  “I love him as in, I want to move in with him, and watch shitty movies with him, and spend my life with him, you know?”  You asked lazily as you leaned out of Morgan’s arms and leaned against the table.  

Derek nodded lightly, surprised at the intensity of your infatuation with Spencer, but he was plotting in his head.  “Have you ever told him?”  He asked you, only for you to shake your head in response.  Derek smirked, leaning to your ear.  “I don’t think he would be opposed if you made a move on him.”  He hinted to you, and your eyes went to Spencer again, who was just turning to walk back towards the table.

Without any warning, you stood, and began walking towards Spencer.  You met him halfway between the table and the bar, and he smiled to you as you approached.  He opened his mouth to speak to you, but you took his face into your hands and stood on your toes, kissing him hard.  

For a moment, Spencer didn’t react, and was trying hard not to spill the glass of water in his hand on you, but after a few seconds, he quickly kissed your back, his arm that didn’t have the water wrapping around you and pulling you closer to him.  It was so unlike him to act like this, but for some reason it made you all the more happy.  

There was cheering behind you, no doubt from the team, and when you finally pulled away, both of your faces were red and your breathing was shallow and unsteady.  Spencer laughed lightly, his eyes searching your face.  “You’re drunk,” he commented, to which you laughed, yourself. 

“It feels like that sobered me up some, actually.”  You scrunched your nose a little, embarrassed, and untangled yourself from Spencer.  “Besides, no amount of alcohol in my system will change how I feel about you,” you added and gave him a wink and turned on your heels, walking back to the table with a flustered and excited look.

You sat next to Derek once more, taking your drink immediately, stole a glance up to Spencer, who stood exactly where you left him, seemingly frozen with a smile on his face.

Derek leaned over to you, still chuckling. “I think you broke him.”

Sunburn - Spencer Reid

Spencer looked up from across the table he sat at.  For a split second, he swore his date for you.  For a split second, he saw your face, your eyes, your smile in place of hers.

It made him feel incredibly guilty.  Spencer thought Monica, the woman he has been seeing, was wonderful.  She was beautiful, funny, and simply great to be around. The two of them shared so many interests, but she was not you.  

Spencer knew no one would ever be you, and no one could ever amount to you, but it had been two years since the two of you split, and he was still not over you.  He also knew that he would never be over you. 

You worked in a different department in the Federal Bureau of Investigation, in the Information and Technology branch, so it was rare for I'm to see you in work, especially with him traveling all the time, but when he did, he still felt the pain in his chest that you were no longer his.  

It did not take long for Monica to lead Spencer to her apartment, where the moment he stepped in, her lips were attached to his neck, and though it felt good, it did not feel as good as when you did it.  He thought of you often, and often wished the women he was seeing was you, and because of this, he always seemed distracted.  

Spencer’s hands laid lazily on Monica’s hips as she assaulted his neck with all the love she could muster, but Spencer was not there, mentally.  After a few moments of no progression, Monica sighed against his neck, her soft breath fanning against his irritated skin.  “You’re not into this,” she observed and stepped back away from him.  His hands fell to his side, and he looked away, slightly embarrassed. 

“No, I suppose I’m not,” Spencer muttered in return as he looked at anything but Monica. 

With a sad sigh, she checked her watch and the glanced at the door.  She wanted him to leave, but he felt numb because of the thought of you.  “This is about (Y/N), isn’t it?”  She asked as he crossed her arms over her stomach, feeling insecure all of a sudden.  

Monica knew of you.  She knew of you too well, being an intern at the FBI a couple of years prior, before moving into the law field.  She knew of you and Spencer when you were in love, and she knew of you now, as the intimidating ex-girlfriend.  

Spencer gave a shallow nod and Monica reciprocated.  “You know, she moved back into town.  She no longer lives in Maryland.”  You told Spencer as she nodded towards the door.  “And I happen to know that she is single,” Monica added and reached for the doorknob, urging Spencer to leave.  “I’m sure Penelope has her address.”  She finished and gave Spencer a sad smile, one he found difficult to return, but he gave another shallow nod and left from her apartment.  

Before he could even turn around to speak to her any further, the door was closed, and he was number than ever.  Would he actually go to you?  After two years of not speaking a word to each other, would he go to your home, unannounced, just to hear your voice? 

The question was answered as Spencer spoke ambiguously on the phone with Penelope, coaxing your address from her records, and before long, he was parking outside of her town home, which was covered in plants on the outside, much your style.  He exited his car, walking in a brisk pace to your front door, and then he simply stood there.

Minutes passed, to the point where it had been nearly half an hour, and all the thoughts possibly passed through his brilliant brain as he stood there, numb.  There was a surge of confidence in Spencer, and in that moment, his hand raised to the door, knocking swiftly and loudly, to the point where he flinched at the noise himself.  

A moment passed, and he began to wonder if you were not home, and, just as he was going to turn away from the door and towards his car, there was the sound of your front door unlocking and it cracked, light flooding from inside onto the doorstep, where Spencer stood lamely.  

He caught sight of your beautiful eyes peaking out at him, and upon sight of him, you opened the door wide, your eyes surprised.  “Spencer, my love,” you greeted, just as you used to years before.  

His words caught in his throat upon sight of you, and all the words he had planned to say fell from his mind, and it was blank.  He swallowed hard, his eyes watering, and he finally was able to speak, “We never even spoke about it.  We never tried to work it out.”  He rubbed his forehead, and he was irritated for reasons unknown. 

You frowned, stepping to the side, motioning for him to come inside.  “Would you like some tea?”  You asked quietly as you closed the door after Spencer, and led him towards the kitchen.

Spencer followed close behind you, and he swore he could smell the so-familiar scent of your hair from mere feet away. It made his stomach jump and twist and he felt a strange feeling that he hadn’t felt since he was yours. 

You stood with your back to Spencer, busying yourself with a teapot of water, placing it on the stove, and getting other tea supplies ready.  Spencer hovered at the door of the kitchen, not moving, and without even turning to look at him, you knew this.  “Sit, Spencer,” you told him in an airy voice as you placed some cookies on a plate.

Spencer did as he was told, and sit at your kitchen table, oddly upright and stiff.  You turned, a small smile on your lips, and moved to place the cookies and scones on the table in front of Spencer.  You lowered into a seat, resting your head in your hands and your elbows on the table.  “You are so beautiful,” Spencer muttered out without thinking, causing you to smile and giggle lightly, heat rising to your face. 

Your eyes fell to the kitchen table and the smile fell from your lips.  “It has been a while since I’ve heard your voice.”  You picked at your fingernails, something you only did when you were nervous, and your chest was rising and falling much faster than it should have been.  

Unintentionally, Spencer was profiling you.  You knew this, and let your emotions wash over your face, and every nervous tick you had surface.  You wanted Spencer to know how much it hurt to see him.  “Too long,” he agreed and swallowed hard, “We never tried to work it out.”  

With a stony laugh, you reached for a cookie, breaking it in half and staring at it.  “From the way things ended, I had a feeling that trying to work things out was not an option.”  Your eyes were fiery as you looked up to him, slightly outraged that he would try to say that you made no effort to work it out.  “Also, from my recollection, you were the one to end things due to your job, when I work in the same damn building.  Things could have worked out fine, but you are the one who ended things,” you snapped at the teapot on the stove behind you began to whistle loudly.  You dropped the cookie on the table, crumbs scattering, which was so unlike you, and stood as you moved to the stove. 

Spencer let your words sink in as he stared at the plate of cookies in front of him.  He felt like he had been slapped, and the feeling was so uncomfortable for him.  He took a shallow breath and ducked his head.  “I’m not very good at committing,” Spencer admitted in a quiet, embarrassed voice, to which you sighed in response.

You turned back to him, teapot on a metal tray, and two mugs with teabags in them next to it stoutly.  You set it down, your eyes avoiding his, and grabbed a carton of milk and small sugar bowl as well.  “I know,” you finally replied, an irritable chime in your voice.  “Which is so also why I do not understand why you are here right now.”  You added as you sat once more.  Your eyes refused to meet his as you poured two glasses of tea, adding milk and sugar, the exact amount Spencer liked, as you remembered. 

Without so much as a single thought, Spencer spoke, “That is why.”  He said sternly as you passed him the teacup, your eyes confused as you finally glanced up to him. 

“What?” 

Spencer held up the cup of tea, his eyes slightly wild.  “This is why.  I’ve never had a cup of tea since I left that has been as good as you make them.  I haven’t been with a woman who I don’t see as you.  I see you on the street, smiling and laughing, like we used to, and when I blink, it is someone else,” Spencer began to ramble, “When something funny, exciting, or sad happens, my first thought is to call you and tell you.  Even after two years, you are my first thought in the morning, and my last thought before I fall asleep so miserably!”  He ranted, his hands beginning to wring themselves out.  

He huffed and put his head in his hands, unable to see you.  “I made the worst mistake of my life leaving you, and I would do anything to take it all back now.”  Spencer’s face remained in his hands.  You were unable to see it at all, and for this reason, you felt stronger than ever. 

With a slow, and shaky hand, you reached forward, and placed your hand on his head, your fingers immediately curling into his long curls, which it seems he has not cut since he was with you, and a small smile formed on your face as you stroked his head.  His hair was so soft, and reminded you of so many memories you had with him before it all happened.  Before you were alone.  

“My mind hasn’t quit thinking about you, either, Spencer,” you murmured to him as you tugged lightly on his curls, making him look up at you as you dropped your hand on the table, face up.  

Carefully, he placed his hand in yours, and an unfamiliar and worried look remained on his face as you smile at your hands together.  Your thumb stroked the back of his hand and, again, you spoke in a voice that was just above a whisper, “We can try again,” you offered as your eyes drifted up his body to his face.  “And take it slow.  See where it takes us.”  

Spencer smiled softly, and shook his head.  “After all I’ve done, you would still be with me?”  He asked incredulously, and you simply held a blissful smile on your lips. 

“Of course,” you laughed, squeezing his hand lightly, “Spencer, I never stopped loving you.  There has not been a day where my love has even faltered in the slightest bit.”  You admitted as you let go of his hand and stood, walking around to his side of the table.  Spencer stumbled to his feet quickly and stood in front of you.  “No matter what happened, what will happen, or what is happening right now, I will love you, and it is foolish of you to think otherwise.”  You told him softly as you took both of his hands in yours.  

“I don’t deserve you,” Spencer murmured as he pulled you into a hug, wrapping his arms tight around you as you laughed lightly.

After a few moments, you replied quietly, with humor in your voice, “I know,” and pulled away as you glanced at the clock.  It was nearing.  “Now, get out of my house.  We both have work in the morning.”  

Spencer laughed at your words, but nodded, as you followed him to the door.  You held it open as he stepped onto the porch, and as you opened your mouth to bid him goodbye, his arms wrapped around you again and his lips enveloped yours in a feverish, but passionate kiss you were not ready for.  You smiled against his warm lips, which tasted of the tea you made him, and in that moment, you never felt more blissful. 

After a moment, you pulled away, a crooked and euphoric smile on your lips, and you began to giggle.  “So much for taking it slow.”  You laughed again and pushed Spencer from the door frame.  “Go.  You aren’t staying here.  Not tonight.”

Spencer laughed as well, his face red and his breath shallow.  You knew he was embarrassed, but you had never seen him as happy as he was now, and it made all your heartache the last two years worth it.  “I love you.”  Spencer told you solidly, and gave you one final smile. 

“And I, you.”  You replied, giving him a final wave, and you closed the door.

The second the door clicked into place, you let out a blissful breath as you leaned your back to the door, looking up at the ceiling and saying thank you to whatever celestial being was up there that sent Spencer to you.

Little did you know, on the other side of the door, Spencer was doing the same exact thing.

Stand Still - Spencer Reid

Anger.  

You felt more anger in your system than you knew what to do with.  You felt like you could set something on fire with just a glance due to the anger.  You felt it in your bones.

As your nails dug into your palm, you were sure that your hands were bleeding by now as you crept along the side of the building, drawing your gun and feeling how slick the cold metal was matched with the blood of your hand. 

You knew in the back of your mind that you would have to hold your gun harder to ensure it would not slip from your grip due to the blood.  Here you were, the fragile person Spencer claimed you were, alone on the outside of the building as he did not allow you to enter.  He claimed he was protecting you, but you just felt humiliated by him. 

Once.  You had kissed him once.  Weeks ago, and you were not even together, but he still felt a duty to protect you.  You knew you shouldn’t feel as angry as you did, but now he was interfering with you job.  You didn’t mind him caring about you, but you could handle yourself, and you needed to show him that.  

As you crept along the house, you ducked under a window as you heard commotion inside.  You listened closely, hearing Derek Morgan’s voice, then Spencer’s warning the unsub to put his weapon down.  You stole a glance in the window, seeing the back of the unsub, the way his muscles moved and contorted, you knew he was going to jump through the window you were under.  In preparation, you used on hand to cover your eyes in the few split seconds you had before he did jump, and with your other hand, you clasped his ankle, bringing him to the hard ground face first.  

Blood trickled down your forehead from the shattered glass, but you didn’t have time to worry about it.  You sprung up, jumping on his back and digging your knee into his spine as you forced his hands behind his back.  You handcuffed him as you spoke into your ear piece,  “Unsub in custody, local police move in.” 

Within seconds, local police took the unsub from you, who was trashing around, but you handled him.  You looked behind you to see Morgan and Spencer climbing from the broken window carefully.  As local police took the man away, you wiped away the blood that trickled towards your eye, and looked at Spencer with one of the angriest faces you were sure you had ever held.  

“Way to go, little one.  Kicking ass!”  Morgan told you with a small smile, using the nickname you truly loved.

You sent him a small nod and walked towards the SUVs the BAU arrived in, not bothering to pay attention to the growing crowd and media forming around the home. 

“(Y/N)!”  Spencer called after you, but you didn’t acknowledge him.  “How did you know he was going to jump?”  He asked you curiously, acting as though nothing happened. 

You ignored him, and kept walking.  “Where are you going?  You might need stitches,” he continued as he took your arm, about to pull your towards the arriving ambulances.  

“I don’t need a damn medic, Spencer!  I am not fragile!”  You finally shouted, yanking your arm away from him and catching Aaron Hotchner’s watching eye behind Spencer.  “I am not fragile, and I am not your girlfriend, so you do not need to protect me.  Do not get between me and this job, or we will have serious issues.”  You seethed to him, trying to keep quiet, but you were sure that Derek Morgan, who was not too far from the two of you could hear your every word.  

Spencer stared, a hurt look on his face, but you simply turned on your heel and walked towards the vehicles.  You shoes were clicking on the pavement and even that was making you angry at this point.  Derek Morgan approached you quickly, wrapping an arm around you, and led you to the car.  

He led you quickly, knowing you were going to explode with emotions any minutes.  “Come on, little one.  Hold it in for five more minutes and then you can scream,” he assured you as he opened the passenger door for you, ushering you inside and closing it after you.  He ran around the vehicle, starting it up and waiting for people to clear out of the way so he could leave.  “Not yet,” he added when he saw you balling your fists up once more.  He glanced down at the still-fresh blood from earlier.  He reached into the back seat, grabbing someone’s jacket, and handed it to you.  “Squeeze this.  Spare your hands.”  He instructed lightly, and you listened. 

You pulled around the block of the neighborhood, and he glanced in the rear view mirror before glancing at you.  “Alright, let loose.”

You pressed your lips together, and tears spilled from your eyes then.  Your lip quivered, and your voice was shaky as you spoke, “Reid and I kissed.”  You wiped at your eyes with the jacket, glancing at Morgan.  He raised his eyebrows, surprised. 

“Like, innocent kiss, or rated R kiss in the bedroom kiss?”  Morgan asked, a small smirk on his face as he drove further out of the way than he needed to. 

You were unable to suppress your laugh.  You laughed through your tears, and spoke shortly after, “It would have been rated R if it didn’t happen at work,” you admitted as your face reddened more than it already had from crying. Morgan raised his eyebrows further, laughing as well.  You huffed then, crossing your arms.  “Now, he is acting all protective of me and calling me fragile and shit.  He didn’t even ask me to be his girlfriend.  He has no right.  We haven’t even kissed since then, or even talked about it.”  You muttered as you brought the jacket to your face to wipe your tears.  As you did, you smelled Spencer’s scent on it, causing your heart to ache.  “How can someone so charming and brilliant be so stupid?”  You asked Morgan as you threw the jacket into the backseat again.

Morgan chuckled, placing his hand on yours, and squeezed is gently, trying to avoid your wounds.  “All men are stupid, baby girl.  You, of all people, should know that,” he teased you, and you nodded lightly, pressing your lips together.  “Do you want to be with Reid?”  He asked you hesitantly, his eyes avoiding yours.

With a sigh, you hung your head and looked at your hand, held in Morgan’s.  “I do, probably more than I should, but I keep getting this weird vibe from him since we kissed,” you admitted as you blushed and glanced away from Morgan so he couldn’t see your face. 

“That is his loss then.  You are strong, beautiful, an incredibly kind to all those you meet, and if Reid passes up on a chance with you, then he is an even bigger fool than I ever imagined.”  Morgan told you and smiled, pulling in front of the precinct.  Cameras were focused on the car as multiple media outlets were waiting for the unsub to arrive.  “You head in there and clean up your wounds and your makeup, and I will distract the media.  Understand?”  Morgan ordered and you gave him a small smile and a nod. 

Morgan left the car and began speaking to the media immediately, and in that moment, you ducked out of the door and sprinted into the precinct, and to the bathroom quickly. 

You spent around twenty minutes cleaning your hands and forehead, which was scattered with just a couple little cuts, and one big one, and you spent a fair amount of time shaking your head over the trashcan to get all the little pieces of glass out.  By the time you were finished, your face was clean of makeup and any trace of blood or crying, and your hair was a little bigger than normal, but not horrible.  You opened the door to the women’s restroom, and stopped in your tracks, holding the door open and standing still. 

Spencer looked up upon you leaving, his eyes worried but his face slack.  “(Y/N),” he said softly as you stepped out finally, letting the door close behind you.  You gave a small nod and turned to walk away, but Spencer took your hand, pulling you against him, and he kissed you quickly and softly, before pulling away and pressing a kiss to your temple as well.  He then separated himself from you all together, and looked at you with sad eyes.  “I’m sorry, so sorry, for assuming you were weak and being overprotective.  Like you said, we aren’t even together, but I want to be.  I want to be able to protect you with all I can, but I know with this job I can’t, and you don’t need me to, as you can handle yourself on your own.  But I want to be able to protect you as much as you’d let me.”  Spencer explained quickly and in a hushed voice, his eyes searching your own as you stared at him. 

“What are you asking me, Spencer?”  You asked finally.  

He sighed lightly and glanced down to his hands.  “What I am asking is that you be my girlfriend, and let me protect you, outside of work, that is.”  He told you with a small, scared smile on his lips.

With your own ghost of a smile, you raised an eyebrow.  “No controlling me during work?”  You asked to be sure, and watched as Spencer smiled lightly.  

“No controlling at work.”  He confirmed and you smiled, giving him and small nod. 

You stood on your toes, pressing a swift kiss to his cheek, and backed away, down the hall.  “Fine, I will be your girlfriend, but I am still mad about today,” you told him, watching as he smiled wider than ever and chuckled. 

“Understandable.  I’ll make it up to you.”  He promised you and put his hands in his pockets, unable to stop the smile on his face.

You smiled as well, turning on your heel and taking a deep breath to calm your happy mind as you walked towards one of the precinct’s conferences room, where the rest of your team was.  You returned your face to its stony look and walked in, eyes on you. 

“Great work out there today, (Y/L/N).”  Aaron Hotchner acknowledged as you walked by to lean against the table.  

You glanced at Morgan, who was watching you closely, and you gave him a wink as you smiled lightly to Hotch.  “Thank you, sir.”