Spencer Reid can profile anyone—except you.
And the closer he gets to figuring you out, the harder it is to pretend he doesn’t feel something more.
Soft Spencer, rambling Spencer, major crush reader.
Spencer understood everything. He thinks in logic, facts, statistic’s. The one thing he can’t understand though, is you. This bothers him way more than he wants to admit.
He first notices during a case briefing, a mother missing from a small town. The first thing you ask, “how olds her child?” That’s odd, usually, the first things asked are about the missing person, or the unsub, your first priority is the child. Spencer profiles this, you’re nurturing.
“Do you have any nieces or nephews?” Spencer asks you after the briefing, you lift an eyebrow as you look up at him.
“I have a niece, she’s about to be 6” you answer “bit of a weird question when you’ve known me for 6 months already, Dr. Reid.” You nudge his shoulder a bit.
“Well I was noticing that you asked how old the child was when we went over the case, that’s unusual, most times you ask about the victim, where they were found, how the body was left, but you heard it was a mother and your mind immediately went to the child, you yourself aren’t a mother but you do have two sisters, statistically, one of them is likely to have a child which would explain the association, you made that connection to the case subconsciously an- sorry I just recognized that” he cuts himself off, realizing he was rambling again. “Woah, that eidetic memory is coming in handy, remind me to never tell you my secrets” you say, he smiles at that, “well I’d keep your secrets” you look at him with a small smile, this is his job, you remind yourself, he’s a profiler, a genius, he’s bred to remember things, recognize behavior, but you can’t help but notice your heart skip a couple beats at the idea of Spencer noticing you “I believe that” you watch hotch come into view, “wheels up in 30, get your go bags, were going to Florida” both you and Spencer nod, giving each other an awkward smile before heading to your desks to leave.
The jet is taking off and you’re sat beside jj, as usual, jj has always been the person you leaned on ever since you arrived at the bau, her ability to understand people on an empathetic level is something you seemed to gravitate towards. You sit quietly as you read your new novel Spencer leant you last week, he told you the way it was written was what he imagined being inside your head was like. Spencer always seemed to say things like that, make people feel seen. “Have you noticed or do I have to spell it out” jj whispers beside you, you look over at her and quirk an eyebrow. “Notice what?” “You. You might be hard to profile for some, but I know you like the back of my hand” you shift awkwardly, you know exactly what she’s talking about, roughly every 30 seconds your eyes lift above the pages and onto Spencer, who’s currently playing chess with Rossi. “I don’t know what you’re implying j” you say matter of factly. “I’ve tried to keep it under wraps, but cmon (y/n/n) it’s been what, half of year of you being here and neither you or Spence have gotten the courage to act on this little work crush” your eyes widen at the sound of crush and suddenly you’re back under the playground in grade school with the boy you liked, or middle school when you slow danced, awkwardly, might I add at a school dance. “Crush? What are we 12, I just happen to find Spencer… endearing” she laughs at that “endearing, right” you bite your lip till it almost bleeds and slam your eyes shut and open. “Fine fine, he’s cute and he’s awkward but in like a cute old fashioned gentleman kind of way not in a weird off putting way and he’s smart, like obviously genius smart, but he’s emotionally intelligent, he understands things and he listens, have you ever noticed how good of a listener he is? Oh and he does this thing when he’s nervous where he’ll clench his jaw slightly, and he smiles differently depending on if he’s just happy or he’s excited, like his eyes will squint differently, and he double knots his shoe laces, probably to ensure that if we get a sudden case that’s one less thing to worry about, and he scrunches his nose when he tries to hold in his laugh- or he’ll do it like a tick, almost bunny like, yknow, bunnies like scrunch their nose, and he hates sugar in his coffee but always remembers to put sugar in mine and… I’ve said way too much now” your cheeks are red hot and the book you once held now lays flat on the table infront of you. “You noticed he double knots his shoe laces?” “That is really what you got from all of that” “no, what I got from that is, you need to stop being a baby and tell him” you freeze. “No- no I mean he’d never go for someone like me, he likes girls like Lila Archer, not me” you shrink into yourself as you look over at Spencer once more, he sits with his glasses stilled on the perch of his nose and a new book in hand, biting his cheek, which probably means it’s pretty intense. “You do not have to be her, (y/n) you’re complex and hard to understand, which for Spencer, is absolutely perfect, he understands everything, if there’s an answer, he will find it, you make it interesting for him. As profilers were meant to understand people and depict their next move, that makes relationships hard, mundane even, you, you keep him on his toes” you gulp, the thought of being even semi interesting or worth trying to understand is a scare you never knew you had till now. Why would someone want to uncover all the layers to you? Why would you be worth someone’s time like that? You think.
“Prentiss and Morgan, you two come with me to the police station, we need to learn everything they know so far, Rossi, you go to the victims house, see if you can find any forced entry on the place, jj, I need you to talk with the victims parents, discuss their granddaughter, what she may have seen from that night, Reid and (y/l/n) I need you to stay here and build a profile, call if you get anything” hotch says, his hands placed flatly on the table infront of him as everyone gets up, heading to their areas.
You and Spencer stand in a small room, blank white board infront of you as you look at crime scene images brought to you from the police department. “It was night, meaning she was in her room, her daughter was in the other, seeing as it’s a single mom, she probably slept with her door cracked, making her vulnerable to the unsub, that would be a reason she was the only one taken” you say, Spencer has a pen to his lips, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. “That’s true, but you have to think, the daughters room was closer to the door than the mothers, they could’ve easily gone in there first” “well maybe they didn’t go through the front door” Spencer’s impressed, you’re somehow making more sense of the case than he is, which is unusual, he’s not typically matched in his intelligence, let alone out beat. “So he didn’t go through the front door, were there any doors closer to the mother’s room?” “There’s a window, in the laundry room, it’s right beside the victims, but you would still have to pass the daughters room nonetheless to get through the front door, it was left unlocked, which no mother, especially one living alone with a 4 year old would leave the door unlocked” you say, surely. “Right, so he comes in the window, gets the mother, probably threatens her, she’s going to do or say anything to keep her daughter safe, he takes her out the front door, and then what, where would he bring her” “we have to assume this unsub has a sense of empathy, part of me doesn’t believe they didn’t know there was someone else in the house, he knew where the window was and where it led, he left the daughter on purpose, he didn’t want her, a 4 year old can be messy and loud, this unsub is orderly, he doesn’t like ruckus, he’d want someone like a mother, someone who knows how to pick up after herself, clean messes, he’d bring her home, he wouldn’t want to risk being in a messy environment” Spencer nods his head, a small smile on his face as he realizes you’ve nearly cracked the case in less than an hour. Spencer picks up his phone and Garcia immediately answers on speaker “my handsome doctor, how may I help you” “Garcia, look up within a 10 mile radius houses listed under men, he’d be in his mid 30s, no criminal history, office job, typical, type A” “got it baby, we have roughly 50 men who fit that type, anyway to narrow it down?” You think. “He pays his taxes on time, he’s regimented, same grocery store every week, probably owns over renting, his spending habits are ritual, doesn’t stray out of comfort” you both hear her typing at rapid speed until you hear a “ah ha” “found him, Dominick jones, 34, no kids, owns, 4 miles from the victims house, he has an award for best maintained yard in his neighborhood group” you look at Spencer, “we got him”
After calling hotch and letting him know about the very possible unsubs whereabouts, the team heads to the house immediately.
“Fast worker” Emily notes as you and Spencer exit the car, “don’t look at me, that was all (y/n)” Spencer says, you smile slightly to yourself, proud.
Derek gets inside the house and you all head in, you hear a clear from each room till you get to the back half of the house. You open the door and are met with a young man, clean shaven, kind eyes, behind him you see the victim, in a maid outfit, tied up to a chair. Spencer is quickly behind you, putting his arm out for you to get behind him to maintain space between you and the unsub. “Dominick James, I’m Spencer Reid with the fbi, I need you to put your hands where I can see them”
After the case, it’s late, you all stay at a nearby hotel in preparation for the following interviews the next day. You all get the key cards to your rooms, saying your good nights and head up as it’s now nearing 2am. Spencer ends up in the same elevator as you.
“You’re surprising” he says lightly. “How so?” “I wish I could get a read on you, no pun intended” “well dr. Reid, what would you like to know” you question. “Everything, I want to know everything about you, you lean toward me when you get nervous, but you won’t to anyone else because you’re afraid to be seen as weak, you’re extremely good at eye contact but when it comes to me you can’t seem to hold it, you always take the coffee I give you in the morning even though I always accidentally add too much sugar, you lean your hand on my arm when you get nervous even though you hate physical affection, you listen to me rant when no one else does, you read the books I give you without protest, I just can’t seem to understand why” your mouth goes dry as the elevator opens and as you go to step out, he presses the shut button. “No, tell me” you’re closer now, you can feel his breath. “Why do you think Spencer, it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out” and almost as gently as he does anything, he lightly grabs your chin and lifts your head up, leaning down slightly as your eyes flutter shut and you have to remind yourself you’re not dreaming, this isn’t a gig or a gag, Spencer Reid, has undeniably recognized you and all of you and his lips lightly brush against yours. “Tell me to stop and I will” he says softly and that undoes you, you sweep your arms around his neck and lock your lips with his, his lips are soft and gentle, he doesn’t want to scare you, his hands go through your hair and pull you closer, which is nearly impossible. As the elevator dings again, you’re brought back to reality and pull away, you both look at the open door and see jj standing there, “are we done pretending now?”
For once, Spencer decided that maybe not everything can be solved, but he’d still try.
“Did you know that statistically, love triggers oxytocin release, which promotes bonding, along with dopamine and serotonin—both linked to pleasure and emotional regulation—so technically speaking, you’re like my anchor” Spencer says in bed one late night, after nearly 4 months of dating you’d think you’d be tired of his facts, but you adore it more than anything. “I love when you speak statistics to me” you joke as he sighs, pulling you closer by the waist. “And statistically speaking, you and I were never meant to meet, the odds are incredibly rare” “your stats don’t incorporate fate” you remind him. “Even then, it’s very unlikely you meet someone who’s willing to love you back, not even adding in the odds against us, you think, the amount of occupations, the amount of work offices, with how many people, and then if you even add in th-“ you cut him off with a kiss. “I’m glad we beat the odds”
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