summary — the only reason you're still around is because you close cases. if you weren't as talented, hotch would have you gone in a heartbeat. or at least he thinks he would — you're convinced otherwise.
pairings — aaron hotchner x mentalist!reader
pronouns — she/her
word count — 1.3k
note — it's kind of a crossover with the mentalist!! reader is very similar to patrick jane in terms of role etc and i think that's the perfect match for hotch!! she's a consultant for the fbi and is not an fbi agent. i'm thinking of making this a miniseries anyway so if you have any requests please feel free to drop something in my inbox! <3
NEVADA WAS HOT THIS time of year. it had been early morning when the case came in and five hours later after touchdown in las vegas it was midday. the midday sun was brutal and yet here you stood in a delicate suit like the sun did no damage at all.
the rest of the team dressed more appropriately for the occasion. reid, hotch and rossi all had left their suit jackets in the car and had rolled up the sleeves of their button-up. morgan and prentiss dressed casually in black and white polos, and jj had a simple tank top on. the sun was no joke today on the california-nevada state line.
you hadn't been working with the team very long. it started a year ago when your family had been targeted by a serial killer and you had accidentally survived. with survivor's guilt a heavy weight on your shoulders, you did the only rational thing you could think of: worm your way into the fbi's behavioural analysis unit and help them figure out the case. you'd been kept on as a consultant for most cases ever since.
sometimes you bounced around as a consultant for other units, but the bau used you especially. you all had similar skills of reading people but there was something about the way that you figured out details quicker with less resources that made they keep you around more often. you supposed it help make their jobs both quicker and easier.
the only reason you were standing under the sweltering sun was because the bau owed the organised crime unit within the CBI a favour from about six years ago . . . you didn't question it.
the severed hand sitting three feet within the california border was all you needed to be able to do your job a little quicker than the rest of the bau.
"have we got an ID yet?" morgan had his arms crossed, glancing across the rest of the team while hotch was busy talking to the local police.
"not yet," prentiss looked back to see if she could read hotch's conversation from afar. "guess we get to hang out in the sun longer. fantastic."
"ah," you shook your head, "we have everything we need right here."
rossi scoffed. "sure, kid. we have a hand. what else do we have to work out here without forensic analysis?"
it was a challenge that you accepted without missing a beat. "probably a white man," that part was obvious by looking at the hand, morgan scoffed out a laugh, "mid forties. he wrote on his right hand," you said, noticing the black permanent marker on his skin, "so he's left-handed."
"or the killer wrote it as a message," reid spoke up. his curls were starting to hang limply across his forehead from sweat.
"maybe . . ." you shrugged, "but it's too faded, and the killer would've wrote it bigger for us to see."
rossi shook his head, muttering, "damn kids," he walked over to where hotch and jj were situated.
"this is gonna be gross but . . ." you knelt down on the road beside the hand and took in a deep breath. prentiss pulled a face as she stared at morgan to justify her reaction. he did so immediately by pulling the same face. reid just stood there blankly. "smells of almond oil moisturiser, musky cologne and tobacco. supple palms, maintained nails . . ."
"he's very wealthy," reid blurted out. you looked up and shot him a wink.
"correct," you agreed. "there's a faint tan line on the little finger from a missing pinkie ring, which suggests he's an extrovert in a job where extroverts thrive."
"so . . ." derek crossed his arms, looking at you expectantly. "what's your guess?"
"upper management in the gaming business," you suggested. "maybe the hotel business, but casinos make more sense given our location."
reid pondered over it for a moment. "it's not a bad guess. the gaming business makes up about twenty-eight percent of nevada's total employment."
"i'd believe that," you shrugged, standing back up. your eyes found morgan's, who was staring at you like you'd grown a second head. "you don't believe me."
"i mean, it's not like it's a stretch," he waved to the sign that said nevada on it. "it's kinda implied that someone with their hand cut off in the middle of the desert works in a casino. it's clear CBI thinks it's a mafia hit."
"and they cut off the hands of those stealing from the till," reid added as an afterthought.
"eh, maybe," you stood back up and moved a few steps away from the hand. hotch came over the second you did so.
"we have an ID," hotch cleared his throat. "prints say it's frank sullivan. he runs the aria resort and casino."
you didn't hide the wide smile that pulled across your lips. "my work here is done," you called over your shoulder, heading back to the separate car you had pulled up in.
hotch stared blankly at her. "where is she going?" he called out your last name as you walked off, and all you did was turn, wave, smile, and then continue walking to your car.
"she's gloating," prentiss rolled her eyes, her own smile starting to pull across her lips. "she knew all that before you said it."
HOTCH WAS FAIRLY CERTAIN you lived on their floor in quantico. you had a desk that was left empty except for a few random things locked in the drawers, but you were never occupying the seat. instead, you preferred the old leather couch you'd moved into the bullpen on your second day.
that's where he found you as he was leaving his office tonight. much time hadn't been spent in nevada, one day to aid the CBI with the profile and any other information they needed before they had the case under control and found the man responsible just as the team touched back down in quantico. he was leaving earlier tonight, the sunset peeking through the window above where you were laying on the couch.
"you're leaving early," you voiced as hotch got closer, your eyes not once opening. splaying on your chest was a book open upside down to preserve the page you were up to. the cover was so faded that hotch couldn't make out which one it was.
"how'd you know it was me?" he dared to entertain you; it was getting harder not to do so. you were so . . . odd, not in the way garcia was unique, but plain odd to the point where he couldn't help it.
"you walk heavier when you have somewhere to be," you finally flickered your eyes open, turning your head to look at him. he was as stoic as ever with his arms crossed and his stare sharp. you watched him for a second longer, "let me guess, you promised jack ice cream again?"
it was a damn good guess. hotch didn't let his surprise show. god forbid anyone tell you that you were right because then you would be far too smug . . . way too smug. "something like that," was all he said. "you leave the scene like that again and i'll work on your termination letter."
a chuckled bubbled out of your mouth before you could stop it. "you keep saying that, hotch, but . . ." you threw your arms up to gesture to the room around you, "looks like i'm still workin' here."
"mhm," his lips pulled into a thin line.
"you can admit you like having me around, agent," you sighed, your eyelids fluttering closed again. hotch noticed the way your eyelashes still had speckles of mascara that hadn't come off with the rest of your makeup. it glimmered gold under the warm sun. "y'know that saying . . . all bark, no bite . . . all 'i'm gonna fire you' but not actually doing it." you lowered your tone to mock his, and his heavy sigh told you all you needed to know. "goodnight, hotch."
"night," hotch muttered as he walked away from you without a second thought. your smile broke through brighter than it had before, a gentle shake of your head in amusement enough to lull you to sleep within the silent, sunset-painted bullpen.
Summary: Aaron Hotchner x Fe!Reader -> Both you and Aaron have been in a secret relationship for three years, except when you go into labour, the rest of the team can't help but speculate.
Disclaimer: Just pure fluff. Small descriptions of labour. BAU being a family. Jack and Haley don't exist in this fic. Not Proof Read.
You would have thought working with a bunch of FBI profilers, they would have figured out the truth by now.
But they hadn’t.
Instead, both yourself and Aaron had lived in wedded bliss for the last three years and were now expecting your first child.
Of course, that couldn’t be hidden from the team. The constant morning sickness. The aversions to certain smells. The swollen ankles, the overwhelming emotions and the growing belly.
Which, as you were sitting at the dim light of your desk filling in the last of the paperwork for your latest case, began to move.
The others had stepped out for a while, grabbing some food. They had invited you except the thought of walking a block and a half already made you want to fall asleep. So, kissing the top of your head, Morgan took your order and promised to bring you back extra guac.
The hum from the headphones you placed around your belly filled the small silence, a tune of Motzart rather than a constant drum of a nearby printer.
However, from under the headphones, you felt a movement.
It wasn’t big. Barely noticeable. But it was there.
Or was it?
Maybe it was nothing.
Except, twenty seconds later, you knew for certain.
Pulling the headphones from you, you stood up immediately and rushed towards Hotch’s office.
And you continued with your normal routine. Knocking on his door, calling his name and stepping inside.
“Is everything okay?”
Trying not to raise any alarm, you closed his office door behind you before shutting the blinds.
“Is everything okay?”
Aaron scanned your face. “Honey?”
Within seconds he was by your side. “What is it?”
But then you smiled. And he became confused.
“What-”
“Feel.”
Taking his hand, you guided it to cover part of your growing belly. “What am I-”
Kick.
You watched every emotion possible pass over Aaron’s face as he took in the feeling of your child kicking his palm.
“Is that-”
Kick.
Then he laughed.
Aaron Hotchner laughed.
It wasn’t often that you got to see this side of your husband when at work. So it was a nice surprise when you did.
Within seconds, he had stepped a little closer and had carefully removed his hand from the top of your stomach and slipped it under the hem of your shirt, allowing his warm palm to rest against your skin.
Then your baby kicked harder.
You both laughed that time.
“Hey, ow.” You said, looking at your stomach.
Aaron chuckled lightly before resting his forehead against yours as his other hand rested against your face, brushing the fallen hair from your face and cupping your cheek.
“She’s moving.”
You smiled. “You’re still convinced it’s a girl?”
“Of course I am. I’m a profiler. I should know.”
You chuckled lightly, shaking your head. “I’m a profiler, too, you know.”
“I know.”
“And it’s mother.”
“And you disagree?” He asked, still with a light smile gracing his lips.
You hummed. “I’m uncertain.”
“Well, how about I give you my profile and see how you feel?”
You laughed. “It really is second nature to you.”
Aaron hummed before moving his hand, still under your shirt, to the top of your belly.
“You’re carrying high, for one.” His thumb traced back and forth on your stomach. “You’ve suffered with morning sickness before twelve weeks, your main craving so far has been fruit. You sleep on your right side.”
“I always sleep on my right side.”
Aaron smiled. “And your skin,” He stroked his thumb against your cheekbone. “It’s soft.”
You smiled, leaning into his touch. “Except, they are just old wives tales.”
“I’d like to think there is still some justice in them. Are you sure you want to wait until they’re born?”
“Yes.”
“And you couldn’t be persuaded?”
“Nope.”
“Are you sure?” Aaron smirked a little before leaning in and kissing you.
Pulling his hand from your stomach, he brought it up to the other side of your face and it wasn’t long before he felt your body melt into his.
“The others are going to be back soon.”
Aaron groaned a little but not before kissing you a last few times before pulling away.
“You’d think they would have figured it out by now.”
You nodded. “But it is kinda fun. And I can’t wait until they see our baby. I have a feeling they’ll look like you.”
“I should hope so.”
You laughed. “You know what I mean. And, if it is a girl, don’t they usually look like they’re dad?”
“Are you saying you agree with my profile?”
You hummed. “Maybe. Just a little. You are the Unit Chief of the BAU, so I suppose you have some credibility.”
“Even if they’re just old wives tales?” He asked, raising his eyebrow a little.
You nodded, with a slight smile. “Even if they’re just old wives tales.”
You finally left his office just before the team got back, but not before stealing a few more kisses.
Over the following months, the team grew more protective of you. With your pregnancy coming to an end, and still not knowing who the father was, they began to step up.
It was sweet to watch.
Penelope had planned your baby shower with JJ’s help. Reid had read up on everything a doctor and midwife knew about giving birth, just in case you went into early labour. Emily had helped you pack your spare hospital bag for the office in case you were rushed into labour whilst at the office or away on a case, being too far from home to drive to get your hospital bag.
And when Hotch couldn’t be by your side, he made sure either Rossi and Morgan were there to help you.
“You okay there, Momma?”
You looked to Morgan who had appeared from around the corner. You were leaning against the counter, your hand holding onto the bottom of your belly.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” You breathed out. “Just a little- ow. Okay. Hey-”
“Whoa, hey, okay, take it easy.”
Morgan placed his coffee mug down, coming right back to your side and holding your hand. “What do you need?”
Your grip tightened around his hand. “Ow. Hospital.”
“Okay, okay. Where’s your hospital bag?”
“By my desk. Emily-” You grunted in pain. “Emily knows.”
“Okay, okay. It’s okay. Emily!”
Turning around, it took Emily less than ten seconds to realise what was going on.
“Okay, Garcia. Hey! Penelope, call Hotch. Let him know what’s going on.”
“Why, what’s-O…oh my god. Okay, Okay. Calling him now.”
By the time Morgan got you to the parking lot, Hotch was pulling in.
“Get in, I can drive her straight there.”
“Have you got everything you need?”
You nodded.
“Call us if you need anything?” Emily asked, shutting your door.
You could only hum, holding onto Emily’s hand.
She leaned in for a moment, kissing your cheek.
“See you when you get back, Momma.”
Hotch pulled away a few moments later, rushing you directly to the hospital.
And for the next twenty hours, Hotch stayed by your side. And the rest of the team started to think.
“I mean, think about it. When she got braxton hicks. Who was the first one at her side?”
“Hotch.” Penelope answered.
“Yeah, and the way he looked. I don’t know about you but I have never seen Hotch that nervous.”
“That is true.” Rossi agreed.
“But they can’t be…together, can they?” JJ asked. “You all had it sussed about me and Will. They couldn’t go this long and not have us at least find out.”
“Maybe they didn’t want us to.”
“Or maybe they’re not together at all.”
“When have you ever known either of them to be that close with each other as they are with us? Rossi, have you ever seen the inside of Hotch’s house?”
“Not for a while, no. Why, have you ever seen hers?”
Emily shook her head.
“Penelope, can you find out anything?” Morgan asked, turning to his best girl.
“I can but it would completely wreck my moral standing.”
“You’ve never run a background check on us?” JJ asked.
“No! That would be an invasion of your privacy. And theirs! If they are a..them, I suppose. Or maybe not. Maybe she is just a single mother and Hotch has decided to help her. He was the first to find out.”
“See, another thing!” Emily pointed out.
“But Hotch is the first to know everything about us. He’s the main person we have to tell when it comes to personal things that could affect our work.” Morgan explained.
“But why not come to one of us?” Rossi asked. “JJ, what do you think? Out of us, who would you have come to?”
JJ thought for a moment. “Out of you boys? Probably…Hotch.”
“Really?” Rossi asked.
“Why not me?” Morgan asked.
“Or me?” Reid finished.
JJ smiled. “You know I love you all equally, but out of Three Divorces, Pretty Boy and Chocolate Thunder, I’d want to tell someone I know to be calm. That could remain level headed.”
“And we’re not level headed?” Morgan asked, causing JJ to look up above her shoulder.
“What did you do when I told you I was pregnant?”
Morgan paused for a second. “You may have a point.”
“Either way, we can’t know for certain that they’re having a baby together.” Reid pointed out.
“Well, she’s married. Or engaged, at least.”
They all turned to Emily.
“How do you know that?”
“Her wedding finger. Last time she came back from AL she had a tan line. It was faint, but it was there.”
“Maybe he ran off? They got pregnant but he didn’t want to be in the picture?”
Penelope scoffed. “What a jerk.”
“I don’t think they’d appreciate us speculating like this.”
“JJ’s right. Maybe they’re just friends and Hotch is helping her out. Garcia, have you heard from them yet?”
“Not yet, Sir.”
Meanwhile, at the hospital, the midwife was instructing Aaron to get behind you, holding you up and holding your hands and you continued to push.
“I don’t think I can do it.”
“Yes, you can. Yes, you can. Come on, honey. I know you can.”
“Can’t you do it for me?”
Aaron chuckled. “I wish I could, but I can’t.”
“Just a couple more pushes, Mrs Hotchner.”
Another wave of contractions hit and you continued to push for another fifteen minutes before finally everyone in the room heard the cries of your baby.
“You did it, honey. I’m so proud of you. You did it.”
“Is she okay? What-Where is she?”
Aaron smiled, tears in his eyes, pushing the hair out of your own. “She’s-She’s okay. Look, the midwife is just wrapping them up.”
A few moments later, the midwife handed you your baby.
Two days later they discharged you from the hospital and the first stop made was at the office considering the last of your things had been left there when you went into labour.
And it also meant the team could finally greet your baby.
“Ooh, ooh, they’re here. They’re here.”
Penelope was the first to spot you and Hotch standing in his office and it wasn’t long before they were all standing outside.
However, as the congratulations and praise was made, Penelope’s voice dropped an octave after she got a clear look of the baby.
“Oh my god.”
“What is it, Garcia?”
“Ohh, ohh, ohh my goodness.”
But you could only smile.
“You!” Penelope pointed before turning to look at Hotch. “And you! Oh my god! You are!”
You looked behind you, finding your husband standing closer to you than when the team had first walked inside.
“Are what? Baby girl, what’s-”
And then it clicked.
With all of them.
And for a moment they were all stunned into complete silence.
“Truthfully, we kinda maybe wanted to see how long it would take you all to figure out.” You explained.
“But…how?!” JJ asked.
You just shrugged.
“Hints were there if you looked for them.” Aaron said.
“Hints were- Oh, so, now he tells us. How long?”
“Four years.” You both answered.
“Four years?!” They all half shouted, quickly remembering there was an infant present.
“Wait.” Penelope said, holding up her hands. “Oh my god, it’s all coming together. This must be how Sherlock Holmes feels when he cracks a case.”
Both yourself and Aaron smiled before looking down at the sleeping baby in your arms.
“The weekends away, the lunch orders, the arrive at work together. Oh my god! The touching.” Penelope hit Emily and Derek’s arm.
“Ow!” They both called.
“How could you two not have noticed this?!”
“You didn’t notice either!” Emily replied, rubbing her arm.
“Baby girl, they kept this from us for four years. Why aren’t you hitting them?”
“Because,” Penelope explained. “She had just had a beautiful baby girl. And Hotch is my boss.”
“Can you ever find a way to forgive us?”
They all looked at each other before seemingly coming to the same conclusion. “Fine. But, only if you tell us how it happened and when. And, if you have a wedding re-do so that we all get to attend.”
Both you and Aaron looked at each other.
“That could work.”
“Great! Now, let me see this beautiful baby girl.” Penelope said, her voice once again chipper, as she came to your side.
“My goodness, she’s beautiful. Hotch, she looks just like you.”
Aaron smiled at the compliment, but shook his head. “No, that’s all her mom.”
“Oh-ho,” Rossi laughed a little. “She is going to be running rings around us all soon enough.”
Four weeks later, each member of the team turned up together on different days, listening to the story of your relationship. First were the girls and Reid before JJ showed up with Morgan and Rossi. JJ was there to drop some items off that both yourself and Hotch would find useful with the nursery but she didn’t mind hearing the story a second time.
Eight weeks after you had given birth, your doorbell rang and just as Aaron opened up the front door, Penelope and Rossi walked inside carrying boxes of items before directing the rest of the team through your home into the garden.
“Dave, what’s going on?”
“You, my dear friend, are getting married.”
“We’re already married.” You said with a small laugh, walking to stand beside your husband.
Dave nodded. “That you are, but today, you are both getting remarried. You did promise us.”
“We did promise them.” Aaron said, turning to look at you.
“We did, didn’t we?”
Dave smiled. “So, Uncle Reid is going to be looking after this little one.”
You carefully handed your baby girl to Spencer as Dave continued to explain.
“Whilst the girls help you get ready and I enlist your help,” Rossi turned to look at Hotch. “To help finish the set up.”
Penelope appeared from down the hallway. “Come on, Emily is finishing setting everything up.”
“I guess I’ll see you at the wedding?”
“I’ll be the one in white.”
Aaron smiled before kissing you quickly as barely a second later Penelope was dragging you upstairs.
That night was filled with joy, laughter and happiness. Yourself and Aaron shared another set of marriage vows in front of the team. You shared a second first dance, a second first kiss and a first family dance.
It was a quiet moment on the corner of the dance floor. You were swaying with your baby, softly, in your arms when you felt a familiar pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind and a familiar pair of lips kiss your shoulder.
Turning around you, Aaron held both of you close. Your forehead against his and your eyes closed, his fingers traced patterns against your arms back and forth before down your side and to your hips where he pulled you in a little closer.
Neither of you knew it until a week later, but Morgan had, with Emily’s help, caught everything on camera. And with help from Penelope, a second wedding video had been made.
Capturing the full length of your first family dance together.
okay so like obviously hotch lowkey doesn’t believe in mentalist readers skills that she’s got going on but consider the possibility of some asshole cop disrespecting her and hotch standing up for her??
.ೃ࿐ OPEN-AND-SHUT CASE
summary — hotch has been adamant since day one of you joining the team that he thinks everything you do is bullshit. you're thrown for a loop, however, when he stands up for you on a particular case. there's no way he's living this down.
pairings — aaron hotchner x mentalist!reader
pronouns — she/her
word count — 4.9k
note — this wasn't supposed to be a full-length case but i couldn't help myself. i'm just hoping now that i've done all this it doesn't flop lmao. masterlist can be found here
"WHEELS UP IN THIRTY." a pause. "yes, you're coming, too."
a groan escaped your lips. eyes flickering open, you stared up into the cold, calculative eyes of aaron hotchner. "it's an open-and-shut case," you stated simply. "they don't need us there."
"they've asked for our help and jj chose the case," hotch deadpanned. "you work here. you're coming."
"i consult here," still, you rolled off your leather couch and straightened up your vest. your smile contradicted every annoyance you had about having to fly all the way out to missouri. not like it was a long flight but still. it was the easiest case that had come across the desk in a while and yet somehow it was a BAU case. something about the local police department not having a clue, probably. you picked up the small black travel bag you kept beside your couch and moved into step beside hotch.
he walked alongside you through the bullpen with a stoic look on his face, his eyes dead ahead and not once glancing over at you. "the unsub—"
"—is targeting young adults in the hazelwood area. the link between the eight victims is that they all grew up in the same children's home but the cops can't find anything that connects them to the staff that worked there, or the foster parents, etcetera . . . what?" you questioned like an afterthought when you caught hotch's side-eye, "i like to read."
you hadn't been at the briefing because you knew you'd hear it all over again on the jet anyway. you had snagged one of the files that garcia put together before it made it to the circle table and spent ten minutes scanning through the documents for all the relevant information before tucking the manila folder in your go-bag.
"clearly," hotch hardly raised an eyebrow.
"and if you read the case properly then you would also know what i know," you finally looked at him, flashing a blinding smile with a little skip in your step.
"which is . . ."
"the unsub is one of the kids from the home." hotch held the glass door open and you nodded in thanks as he held the door. once you were through, he let go and followed after you until he fell back into step.
"that doesn't fit the profile," hotch denied immediately. "this unsub isn't immature or displaying signs of trauma or mental illness. there's not even signs of revenge, which would've showed up in at least the first two victims. it's unlikely another one of the kids." he paused for a moment; you had a smile on your face as you listened to him ramble. "and, if it was, the first victim would've certainly been one of the caregivers."
when he finally finished, you spoke once again. "i think you're wrong," was all you said, smile turning tight-lipped. not another word was spoken on the way to the airfield.
"OUR UNSUB IS A white male in his late thirties," rossi said aloud to the surrounding hazelwood police that crowded in the bullpen. "he's going after this specific group of kids here." pointing to the board where a photo from a group home was printed out, now nine of the fifteen children in the photo were dead. the victims now were all roughly in their mid-twenties, as would be the remaining people in the photo that were under police protection across the town and the surrounding area. "which leads us to believe he was someone who either worked at the home during this time, or he could potentially be someone who lived at the home ten-ish years prior to these kids here."
you sat there shaking your head while sipping at your cup of tea. leaning back on one of the chairs, your feet were kicked up onto the desk belonging to chris, one of the quieter local cops that had been rather nice to you since you showed up. usually you clashed with the local cops because they had opinions on why you were wrong and unprofessional. chris had been the opposite, listening to every word you said and even writing some of your theories down in his little notebook.
honestly, you found it a little off-putting that he seemed to care about your opinion so much, but it was a nice change. not even your coworkers seemed to be as interested as he was half the time. something about you being an unqualified scam-artist or something, who cares?
"we're looking for anyone who has ever had a link to this home, but refine your search around anyone that worked there from 2003 to 2007," hotch added on. it was almost electric how he commanded a room. you noticed everyone else's eyes focused in on him like he was an authoritarian leader of the most obedient regime.
"gardeners, teachers, therapists, guidance counselors, social workers, nannies, cooks," emily listed off clearly, raising her hands as she spoke. she said it just slow enough for the cops to scribble it down in their notes. "it might not be anyone that had direct contact with these kids, it could be someone who noticed them from afar, for example."
reid cut in. "37.4% of child abuse perpetrators in this scenario are institution staff, and 36.5% are foster parents," he sported a tight-lipped smile that you only ever noticed from him when he shared his knowledge with the class. "it's more likely they are our unsub."
"what about the other, like, twenty percent?" you asked aloud, swirling the remaining tea around the too-white coffee mug. you had found it in the back of the cupboard in the break room because it had been the only clean mug. it was probably because it had some ex-cop's ex-wife on it (so you had been told via chris), but it didn't smell like coffee or have dead moths in it, so it was good enough to drink out of.
reid turned to look at you. "relatives of the victim."
one of the local cops snorted. "doubt that's the case here." one of his buddies scoffed out a laugh at the joke.
standing up, you hummed to yourself as hotch delivered the rest of the very wrong profile. you understood it, you weren't going to cut him off in front of so many people, but you knew it was false. all you had to do was wait for more evidence to fall into your lap to change the team's mind. you ignored the few sets of eyes on you as you made your way to the board that all the photos had been taped up on when reid went over victimology and the geographical profile with emily.
the one photo that stood out was the photo rossi had mentioned before. it was taken like a class photo, with all the kids, nine of whom now had a bullet messily lodged in their brain, lined up with the two primary carers stood at either end. morgan had been covering the faces of those who had been murdered with circular magnets to make it easier to see who was left when there were so many potential victims. six of them were still smiling brightly, their face free from a magnet, so full of life and an innocence that stole oxygen from your lungs.
one face in particular stood out, he had since the very first time you saw the image printed out in the case file back in quantico but you kept that to yourself. there was no convincing hotch unless you had a concrete enough case; he knew you could be right but he wanted to see that you could prove your theory first. and right now you had absolutely nothing but a very convincing gut feeling.
"penny for your thoughts?" rossi's voice had you blinking away your thoughts. the cops had scattered to canvass once the profile ended, and looking to your left, you noticed that emily and morgan were being instructed by hotch, probably to go visit the ninth crime scene, before he turned to talk to reid and jj.
you grinned at him, "my thoughts are worth way more than that, agent rossi," you said airily, waving your hand as you walked away to go sit back in chris' chair. he just shook his head like he seemed to always do whenever you opened your mouth.
the sun was setting on their second night in hazelwood. today had been profiling and chasing leads and dealing with the increasingly antsy police captain.
you didn't know his first name but his badge read 'andrews' loud and proud. he was the 'crime doesn't exist until it's in my neighbourhood' type, which was strangely counterintuitive considering he was a cop, but then again crime wasn't a huge part of life in this town. usually petty theft and traffic incidents were the most common . . . something like murder was an entirely different ballgame.
"where's your team?" andrews hadn't stopped pacing for ten minutes and thirty-seven seconds. the watch on your wrist had been your focus for that duration of time, watching him walk back and forth and mutter to himself like a madman. "why aren't you with them?"
you shrugged carelessly. taking a sip of unremarkably mediocre tea, you set the mug back down on chris' desk. he had gone with morgan and reid to comb through the first crime scene again, and that had been hours ago now. that only added tension to andrews' shoulders. everyone else was off doing their part. jj had set up a press conference for tomorrow and in the mean time was picking up takeout for dinner since it was going to be a long night. she had refused to be the only one heading back to her hotel room when the rest of the team was still working on the case, and thus she settled for making sure everyone was fed.
had you been given the option like she had, you'd be back in your hotel room by now. you had attempted it already but hotch's gaze was stern and that had you lowering yourself back down into chris' chair. the sudoku puzzle in front of you had kept you occupied for the past half an hour, and every now and then your concentration would be broken with someone asking for your opinion. you were fairly certain that opinion was just to keep you involved in their theories rather than your own, so you humoured them and minded your business.
"i've seen the crime scenes," you waved your hand, disinterested, "don't need to see 'em again. ah," you grinned to yourself, drawing a 2 into one of the boxes of your sudoku grid, "there it goes."
something in andrews turned red hot. "do you even care about this case, agent?" he scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. you slowly set your pen down on top of the open page of your puzzle book. "all you've done is parade around acting like you fuckin' know everything; haven't seen ya be helpful once."
not an agent, you thought, for once thinking better than to correct him.
apparently you minded your business a little too well. you leaned back in your chair and stared up at him. his face was flushed with anger, the type of anger that had his forehead creasing and his knuckles turning white from how aggressively he was crossing his arms.
"and don't get me started on your psychic bullshit. get real, kid, that shit's complete bullshit," he carried on, each syllable getting louder than the last. you noticed hotch's back straighten, his words failing him as he cut himself off from talking to the rest of the team when he overheard andrews. "you're useless, only here to waste my time. we have a killer to catch, goddamnit!"
upon noticing the captain was losing his shit with you, hotch shed his blazer over the chair like he absentmindedly did every time someone questioned his team. you weren't sure he even knew he did it. and if he wasn't wearing a jacket, he would roll his sleeves up like he was about to prosecute.
you paid little mind to him, staring up at the captain and waiting for him to finish his little rant. "now that is where we agree," you nodded compassionately, "psychic's aren't real, glad we're on the same page."
that only seemed to infuriate him more. he took a step closer, his fist slamming down on the desk you were sitting at. the cop across the desk from you jumped but you remained still, not breaking eye contact with andrews once. not even when your tea splashed over and spilled across half of your puzzle book, and certainly not when hotch crossed the space in a matter of strides.
hotch pushed himself between where you were sat and where andrews stood, all diplomatic but his eyes burned with a rage you had never seen before. it was no secret hotch hated people being disrespectful towards his team, his family, but it was something you had never really thought extended to you. the team had been together for so long now and you sat parallel to the outside, not quite in but not quite out either. hotch had stuck up for jj a few weeks ago on a case in georgia, and then again for garcia in quantico when they had to consult the organised crime unit and one of their agents belittled her. hell, you watched hotch stand up for reid constantly. everyone had each other's backs . . . but this was all new.
"that's enough," his voice was firm. you could only assume it was his prosecutor voice that he kept locked away for moments such as this. he was calm, very professional, and yet kept all his emotions hidden behind a wall. including the anger you could see flaring his nostrils and ticking his jaw. your eyes flickered to hotch a little too swiftly. "you don't talk to my team that way, do you understand me?"
silence.
this was agent aaron hotchner, who had little faith in your skills, standing up for you on behalf of said skills. god, was the world caving in?
"i asked you a question," hotch spoke with a coldness that left little room to argue. not that anyone would dare to argue with a man as articulate as him. the air seemed to become scarce, sucking the warmth out of the room and leaving everyone to gasp in carbon dioxide in their final breaths. "do you understand me?" he left a pause between every word, his eyes narrowing into andrews' skull with enough pressure to melt his brain into mush. you couldn't help but bite the inside of your cheek, forcing your gaze off hotch and back on the shrinking police captain.
". . . yes . . . sir," andrews gulped so hard you swore you heard it. his adam's apple bobbed uncomfortably, his throat constricting like a python. he forced the words out like he didn't really mean them, but the sheer fact that hotch had gotten him to fold so quickly was admirable. he didn't utter an apology to you, not that you were looking for one, but he did scatter while clearing his throat rather quickly.
you spun in your chair to properly face hotch. he was barely a few inches away from your legs. his shoulders were tense, his shirt tight in specific places just enough to see the faint outline of his muscles hiding underneath. "i'm surprised," you drawled slightly, a gentle smile tugging your lips upwards like it always did. he wasn't sure if every smile was real. he couldn't read through you but he could work out that smiling was your first line of defence in every situation. "thought you also thought everything i did was bullshit."
maybe you were imagining things but you swore the corner of his mouth quirked upwards for a split-second, just enough to drive you insane. "i don't let people talk to my team like that," he answered in that professional manner he always did. maybe taking a sledgehammer to his tone would break through to something new, something he kept hidden deep down. "especially not the people we're helping out on this case."
"he ruined my puzzle book," you muttered, reaching for a tissue and dabbing it at your ruined sudoku puzzle. you hadn't even gotten the chance to finish the one you were working on yet.
"i know," was all he said.
"well," you bravely reached your foot out just enough to knock against his on the floor after an additional moment of silence. he didn't move, much like you figured would happen. "thank you."
it was the best you could think to say to him in this situation. hotch didn't believe in everything you did and that was okay, you were used to that, and so he hadn't defended you because of that, you were pretty sure, but because of the entitlement from andrews.
well, you were at least pretty sure that was the case. there was no way hotch had a sudden change of heart and suddenly thought your ex-scam artist skills and lack of qualifications made you an important asset to the team. that would be silly. and unrealistic. and very strange.
"jj's brought dinner," were you imagining it or was his voice softer this time? "go get someting to eat." he walked away before you could answer. you found your feet moving before your brain did, sliding out of the chair and heading over to where jj was already smiling at you.
she nudged your shoulder like she knew something you didn't. "i don't know what you did but i've never seen hotch look all soft," she whispered, impressed. "good for you, girl."
for once, you had absolutely nothing to say.
"WHERE ARE WE GOING?"
"for a drive," you said like it was obvious. as if you weren't currently behind the wheel of the SUV emily had the keys to. your two options had either been grab hotch's keys or convince emily, and the latter was one thousand percent easier than the former because that way you didn't get chewed out for stealing the keys again.
"hm, yeah," emily rolled her eyes at the obviousness. "a drive in a very conveniently located neighbourhood . . ." she checked her little notebook, "the neighbourhood belonging to travis kern."
hence why emily had been the perfect choice: she had a better attitude towards your skillset than the rest of the team did (reid not included, he had grown to value you but you also knew he would dob you in to hotch and rossi the second you asked), and that was why she so far hadn't tried to get you to stop the car.
travis kern was their serial killer. he was a twenty-six year old, antisocial personality that lived in a nice home on the edge of hazelwood. he had done well for himself since he turned eighteen and left the group home — had gone to college for computer science and coding and to this day worked from home. he made more money than the rest of the kids he grew up alongside, and considering their bodies had been found robbed, travis had been ruled out of being a suspect. that theory had been solidified when no missing money or jewellery was found in his house.
none of that was the reason you suspected him. no, it was the tears and the pleading with law enforcement to do something as if that meant a thing. going to his house would be the final step in you determining whether or not he was hazelwood's serial killer.
"felt like going for a late night drive," you smiled over at her, and then pulled into travis' driveway. the sun had long set on your third night in hazelwood and really didn't want to spend another night here. small towns weren't really your thing, not after spending so long enjoying city life. it was also really uncomfortable how everyone seemed to know everyone . . . mary who worked at the grocery store on the one side of town should not need to know carol's daughter's second-cousin twice-removed by name and home address on the other side of town. that was too odd for you to comprehend.
"this is just a social visit, right?" emily asked. she looked hesitant but in a way in which she didn't fully care. three days in, emily just wanted to head home to virginia and flop into her comfy bed. the motel beds had hard springs and a weird smell to them; if you knocking on travis' door solved the case, she would gladly tag along just for the chance to go home.
"totally," you nodded, turning the car off and hopping out. staring out at the house, you noticed the upstairs light turn on through the blinds. "keep that thing holstered," you gestured to the gun strapped to her waist. "we're just having a friendly chat."
"mhm," emily hummed, staring at you incredulously. the last friendly chat you had with a suspect led you to being momentarily held hostage for running your mouth. "sure thing."
you let emily knock on travis' door, and the moment it opened, you wedged your way through travis and the ajar door to get inside. emily sighed and travis spluttered.
"where's your security?" you asked, glancing around the inside of the main foyer. not a single picture frame was in sight, and the further you walked in through to the lounge room, you noticed just how bare it was. everything felt so devoid of life. not a single photo or accomplishment hung on the wall, not even any artwork. the one couch was bare, no pillows or throw blankets, and the coffee table only had the tv remote on it. you hummed softly to yourself before turning around.
"shift changeover," travis said, eyebrows furrowing together. "sorry, is there a reason you're here?"
"ah, sorry," you grinned, closing the gap between travis and yourself and holding your hand out for him to shake. he did so with a gentle tremor in his hand. "thought you'd want an update on the case."
it was like something changed in travis at your words. his shoulders lost their slight tension and his expression looked a little off. surely knowing that you're a potential murder victim wouldn't let you feel this calm so suddenly.
"yes, please," he let go of your hand and shoved them back into his pockets. emily shut the front door behind her, and the three of you migrated into the lounge room where you had just been snooping.
he sat down on the one end of the couch, and emily sat down on the other end. you remained standing on the other side of the coffee table, far enough from emily so that she couldn't drag you out of the house to silence you like morgan usually did. "we've found our suspect," you said it simply, like it had no weight to it whatsoever. "case closed."
emily's lips parted like she wanted to tell you to stop, but a quick look from you had her closing her mouth.
"really?" travis sighed in relief, dropping his head into his hands. "oh thank god," he glanced between emily and you. "thank you, thank you. oh my god . . ."
you wondered if emily could see what you could see.
"yep, case closed," you rubbed your hands together. "agent prentiss here will fill you in on all of the details . . . where's your bathroom?"
apparently you had broken down travis' resolve enough to get him to wordlessly point out the direction of the bathroom down the hall without a second thought.
emily cleared her throat, her glare coming down hard on you. all the details you had told her, and she was angrily cursing you for putting this on her to deal with. there weren't any details for her to run with because the killer hadn't been caught. improvising wasn't necessarily her strongsuit but you knew she'd make it work.
you walked down the bland hallway. it was tinged with yellow from age but otherwise it was as pristine as the rest of the house. it was strange; it felt more like a display house than a home.
the bathroom was on the right and you completely bypassed it for the door shut at the very end of the hallway. silently, you twisted the doorknob slowly, taking a quick peek inside through the tiniest crevice you could find.
there you found kaitlyn jones, one of the others from the group home, her hands and feet tied with rope, and duct tape over her mouth. she noticed the door open and her eyes blew wide, but you quickly silenced her by placing your index finger over your lips to silence her. you were just glad that she had recognised you from when she had originally come into the police station two days ago. she could've only been in travis' house for two hours since the police checked in that everyone was safe two and a half hours prior . . . something that travis would've known. brusining was starting to form up her arms, blooming at the base of her throat in a pattern that looked suspiciously like handprints. this MO was different from the others; none of them had been reported with any bruising.
this was something more personal, but that would be for the rest of your team and the local cops to determine in their interviews.
grimacing at her, you made a silent promise that you'd be back and hoped that she understood. as quietly as you opened it you shut the door, reaching into your pocket and pulling out your lipstick to leave a little note for emily to find. it was better the armed woman be the one to find kaitlyn rather than you.
you wrote 'EMILY' in large letters, thankful that you hadn't brought a nicer lipstick with you today, before retreating back down the hall, making a pitstop in the bathroom to flush the toilet and wash your hands before walking back out.
travis looked so incredibly at ease that he probably assumed he was in the clear. whatever emily had said worked terrifically.
"okay," you clapped your hands together as you entered the lounge room. emily's head snapped up to catch your gaze. you gave her a very subtle wink before travis could turn to look at you. "we're gonna head off . . . em," you looked back at her pointedly, "you said you wanted to go to the bathroom before we left?"
emily stood up, blinking rapidly. "yeah . . . yeah!" she nodded in understanding, "won't be a sec, sorry."
your shook your head at her as you took her spot on the couch. looking at travis, you waved your hand at him, "long drive, small bladder, you get it," you lied rather fluently.
emily pretended she didn't hear that.
you waited roughly two minutes, your gaze continuously drifting to your watch, until emily came back into the lounge room, this time with her gun unholstered and aimed directly at travis. "travis kern, put your hands where i can see 'em."
you quickly hopped up from your seat and moved away from travis, only stopping when you were behind emily. peeking out from behind her, you watched travis grunt and begrudgingly stand up, his hands behind his head, his fingers interlocked. "ha! see, emily?" you didn't mean to gloat but you were currently enjoying being right. "i told you all it was him!" you looked back at travis. "i knew it was you the second i met you. you have the house of a psychopath too, c'mon."
emily said your last name with enough conviction that you shut up. "yes, you were right," she rolled her eyes, but you weren't blind to the ghost of a smile across her lips. "call hotch."
"with pleasure," you stepped away and pulled your phone out of your pocket, hotch's contact the first one in your list of recent contacts.
the phone rang three times before he picked up. "hotchner."
"hotch, i have fantastic news for you," you gushed into the phone. emily had travis handcuffed and was leading him outside into the car. "y—"
"does it have anything to do with the reason you and prentiss aren't here?" his voice was lower than usual, riddled with tiredness and something like annoyance.
". . . potentially," you sounded sheepish. "i promise it's worth it! we'll meet you at the station."
"you arrested kern, didn't you?"
the call lapsed into momentary silence. "okay," you said slowly, "i didn't arrest him, emily did! i just . . . kinda had a feeling it was him and then i found kaitlyn jones tied up in his spare room—"
he cut you off by deadpanning your first name. that silenced you immediately — hotch never called you by your first name. it was strangely warm in the cool tones of his voice. "we'll talk about this later," he left no room for argument, and your smile slipped for just a moment. the mask cracked. "but good work." he fell silent. then, begrudgingly, "you were correct . . . the profile was wrong."
you smiled warmly, a smile different to your usual one. "can you say that again?" you asked, quietly this time. "i wanna record it."
he didn't humour you. "i'll meet you at the station." but you swore you heard an uplift in his tone before he hung up.
good work.
you were correct.
and you were never letting hotch live those five words down. ever.
Summary: Spencer Reid x Fe!Reader (BAU Agent) -> A case, a cardigan and a life time of memories help both you and Spencer realise something about yourselves.
Disclaimer: Not proof read. Mentions of Criminal Minds level violence. 16+. Fluff, pining. Descriptions of being attacked and falling into a river (but ends safely). Garcia sorting out two blind oblivious idiots. Happy Ending.
23:49
Usually, people were asleep close to midnight. Usually, people were dreaming of their favourite TV show and character, imagining a world where they worked alongside them or danced the night away with them in a ballroom that could make a Disney Live-Action movie jealous.
However, that was not what you were doing.
Instead, you were opening up your bathroom door and walking back inside your hotel room. The carpet a little rough beneath your feet, you unravelled your hair from the towel and began ringing out what was left of the water from your shower.
Moving over to your closet, you pulled open the door and found what you were looking for.
A cardigan.
The Cardigan.
The one you wore whenever you were in need of a little comfort because, despite owning it and washing it multiple times over the years, it was still him.
One touch of the fabric and it was like being transported back to the day he gave it to you. Or, at least, let you borrow it then proceed to keep it.
The case had been in Colorado.
Four female students had gone missing in the space of two months. And, as much as it could be considered a coincidence, they all matched the same description and had last been seen at a convenience store, with fresh spray paint of their single initial.
And, on the fourth night of the case, you were at such a place.
All it had been for was a snack run for yourself, JJ and Morgan. However, as you began walking back down the street, you heard the shake of a spray-paint can and, the minute the stranger found your eyes, they set off running.
And so did you.
Making a call on your way, you shared your location with Garcia who patched in Morgan and Reid from the precinct.
“Hey, wait! Stop!”
Round a back alley corner, you lost them. You walked further up to see if you could find a trail, however, all you found was a small bridge and a river.
And as you looked around, from behind you, you felt someone try and run you down and it became a struggle.
Fighting back and forth until he took hold of your jacket and pulled you over the edge with him.
Disorientated from the fall, you struggled to find your way back up to the surface and when you did, you were only dragged back down.
However, in all the commotion, a light came from the bridge and your attacker suddenly let go and, from the waves of the water, began swimming away as fast as he could.
Coughing up the last of the water, you pulled yourself up the edge of the riverbank, laying on your back until your heart rate slowed down enough for you to catch a decent breath.
“Hey, hey! Y/n! Look at me.”
Turning on your side, you tiredly pushed Morgan’s hand down from your face. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”
“Do you think you can stand it?”
You nodded. “Just give me a minute.”
“What the hell happened?”
“You mean other than me being dragged into a river giving me flashbacks of college?”
“Y/n!? Y/n?! Are you okay?”
“She’s fine, pretty boy.” Morgan called back up the riverbank as Reid made his way down.
“Are you sure?!”
“I’m fine, Spencer. I swear.”
Having made his way to your side, he kneeled down a little, checking you over. Only when he touched your skin did you realise you must have hit your head under the water on something because it was stinging from an open cut.
“Sorry,” Spencer said as you hissed.
“It’s okay, Just…help me up.”
Spencer did as he was told and Morgan led the way back up the bank.
By the time you made it back to the precinct, considering it was closer than the hospital and they already had a paramedic waiting, JJ and some other officers had found the Spray Paint runner, and had pictures taken of the job he had done outside of the store.
Having taken a shower in the locker room, Emily passed you through some of your spare clothes which consisted of a black t-shirt and some grey joggers. You were sitting in the hallway, your hair was damp and still dripping a little around your shoulders. Meanwhile, in your hands lay one of the pictures the CSI had taken.
It could have been a coincidence, but more than likely it wasn’t.
It was your initial.
A shiver had taken hold of your body, whether from the truth or the cold you didn’t know.
“Hey, here.”
From down the hall, Spencer approached you and removed his cardigan. “You’re cold.”
“I’m fine, Spence.”
“You fell in a river and now have washed, wet hair in a building filled with AC. You’re cold. Here.”
With a slight smile, you took the cardigan from him and in almost an instant, it warmed you. It had been warmed by him and now it was warming you.
“Thank you.”
Spencer smiled, looking around before picking up the towel that was laid over the back of your chair.
“Here.”
Slowly pulling your hair around to one side, Spencer rang out the last of the water with the towel.
“Did they get him?”
Your voice was quieter than usual.
“The spray painter? Yes. Hotch has him in interrogation right now. Morgan and Emily are out looking for the guy who attacked you.”
You just nodded, part of your brain reliving the attack.
From the back of your neck, Spencer could see a large bruise. It wasn’t too bad, but he knew it still hurt you considering whenever you moved in your seat, it seemed a struggle.
“But I don’t match the MO.”
This was something you couldn’t wrap your head around. You were out of college age range. The girls kidnapped didn’t have the same features. Similar, perhaps. But not the same. You hadn’t been in any similar places, other than the convenience store.
“We’re thinking that perhaps he revisited some of the old sites.”
“And I’m the one that is closest to his victims…”
Spencer nodded and you took a deep breath, handing him the picture. “I can’t keep looking at that.”
You both sat in silence for a few minutes until Spencer finished and placed the towel down on the back of the chair again.
“I was thinking about picking up some food, how about you come with me?”
Taking in a breath, you collapsed your hands between your knees and stood. “Yeah. Let me just use the bathroom.”
Spencer nodded, watching you push the door to the ladies room open, before Hotch walked over.
“You’re taking her out?”
“Yeah, I thought it would be best.”
Hotch nodded. “Maybe try and get her to talk about it. See what she remembers. Anything that can help us track down the attacker.”
“Ready to go?” Spencer said, watching as you came out of the bathroom door.
“Yeah.”
Sitting in the passenger seat, Spencer drove through the small town, and a little down the highway towards the only decent diner close to the town.
In the passenger seat, you kept your eyes fixed on the scenery outside the window whilst the scent from Spencer’s cardigan blocked out the scent from the cheap shampoo one of the officers had found in a locker.
Every now and again Spencer would glance over at you, that swirling feeling in his stomach getting stronger and stronger. When Garcia had patched the call through, he had heard your voice and something dropped in his stomach. He tried his best to remain calm, asking where you were and what you saw but when you went quiet, just before he heard a grunt in pain, his heart dropped.
Spencer had met you in the Academy.
Like himself, you too had been a child prodigy of sorts so you were around his age, too. Often, you found yourself in the same circles, however a small part of each of you seemed to compete against one another.
An exam, a race, a training course.
However, neither of you were too focused on your small rivalry to not help when the other needed it.
After all, after Hotch, you were the one to help Spencer continue to hold his gun licence.
And he was the one to help you finish up paperwork on those late nights.
And when he saw your body unmoving on the side of the riverbank, it felt like his heart was shattering.
It felt like you had been there for most of his life and you had, at least, for his adult life. And the thought that you wouldn’t be there for the rest of it brought such pain to him…he didn’t know what to do other than try his best to remember your voice and the way your hand fit into his as he helped you up from the grass and how you felt, leaning against him on the drive back.
He didn’t want to let you go, so when Hotch said someone should watch you, he was the first to say yes.
He’d known you the longest and, for what it was worth, he knew you trusted him enough that if you wanted to open up, it, in one way or another, would have been to him.
And he was right, by the time he pulled up outside of the diner, you explained all that you could remember to him. From the turnings you took, to the feeling of being under the water and having a split second of thinking you wouldn’t make it back to the surface.
And when you cried, wiping away the tears on your cheeks with the sleeve of his cardigan, Spencer unbuckled his belt and reached over, hugging you so tight it was like if he ever let go, he would stop breathing.
You thought back to that night as you slipped your arms through the sleeves.
There had been a couple of different nights after that, that you thought of when you took in the feel and smell of The Cardigan.
One such night had been when Spencer and JJ had been out in the field. You had stayed back with Garcia, however that same feeling of having someone pull your heart so far back in your chest it began to hurt your spine, washed over you again.
The only thing that helped settle it was wearing his cardigan.
It was rare you did wear it, however when you did it was often for comfort and to settle your nerves from whatever was happening.
Garcia didn’t say anything, but she smiled.
She’d seen you wear The Cardigan when you came back from the Colorado case, and when you were stuck in the office late at night a few months later, and whenever she called someone on the jet when you fell asleep on Spencer’s shoulder, his head resting on yours.
But this was the confirmation she needed.
Both against you, and Spencer.
So, when nightfall came and you had decided to wait for the rest of the team to get back, she finally said something.
You had been sitting at your desk, leaning back in your chair, a pencil poked through your hair whilst a pen twirled in your hand.
“You should talk to him.”
“What?”
Garcia smiled. “Reid. You should talk to him.”
“Why?” your stomach dropped. “Is everything okay? He’s not-”
Garcia shook her head. “He’s okay. But, you should talk to him.”
“Why?”
Penelope placed a hand on your shoulder, the soft wool of the cardigan under her palm.
“This is his.”
It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.
“If you're worried he doesn’t feel the same?” Garcia pinched the fabric and shook it a little. “This is proof he does.”
“What are you-”
“For being a top profiler, you guys sure don’t know how to read a love story when it’s right in front of you.”
“Pen-”
Garcia just smiled again. “Talk to him. You’ll be surprised.”
She took her leave from there, calling out her goodbyes from the entrance door. Not too long after that, the rest of the team walked back through the door to collect the rest of their things, and if you weren’t mistaken, they all seemed to have a quiet smile on their face when they spotted what you were wearing.
However, in the end, it was just you and Spencer. And Garcia’s words kept circling around in your head.
“Hey, Spence?”
He turned around.
And you chickened out.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I- it doesn’t matter.”
“Oh, okay. Well…goodnight.”
“Night.”
What you didn’t notice as Spencer left was when he took another look. You had your back to him, so he could take a slightly longer look. The feeling in his heart grew a little more as he took in the memory of you in his cardigan.
You had tried to give it back, sneakily. However, he thinked you looked better in it. And, due to the feeling in his heart, it would forever be yours. So, he made sure to be out of the office before you one night so, when you found it looped through your bag, you had no other option but to keep it.
And now, with it holding your body. Holding your soul. You took in its scent.
You had been in love with Spencer since shortly after you had both joined the BAU. He was the first familiar face you saw when you landed in the office. He’d already been there at least five years, maybe bordering on six when you joined. And all it had taken was a simple coffee order.
You had changed your coffee order since you’d both been graduates since the Academy, however, despite the change…Spencer didn’t have to ask.
He turned up at the door of your apartment, holding out the cup for you when you opened the door to let him inside.
All he did was stand in your apartment and look around, whilst you drank him in. You’d both changed over the years and of course you had liked him, ever since you first met him. Anyone that took the time to know him, liked him, too.
But there was something.
Maybe it was his confidence.
Maybe it was the fact he knew your favourite coffee order after six years of not seeing one another.
But either way, you knew.
You knew you loved him.
A familiar knock came to the door of your hotel room, knocking you out of your memories and back into reality.
An hour later, you were sitting downstairs with the others, examining all the old case files, begging for something to jump out.
JJ sighed and threw one of the finished case files onto the table. “I’m beat. I can’t find anything. I think if I close my eyes, I can see the text written on the back of my eyelids.”
The others felt the same so it wasn’t long before they, one by one, went to bed.
Leaving just yourself and Spencer by the warming fire.
As it approached four in the morning, you closed your file and rubbed your eyes.
“Anything?”
“Nothing.”
“I think I’m gonna go to bed. If I look at this case file much longer, I’m gonna be like JJ.”
However, despite wishing to go to bed, you must have fallen asleep on the sofa as a few moments later, Spencer’s hand was on your shoulder.
“Hey, you fell asleep.”
“Oh.”
“I would have left you, but you’ll probably wake up with a stiff neck.”
“Oh, yeah.”
Spencer helped you sit up and you watched him tidy away a couple of the case files. They were safe enough in the boxes considering the entire team had all the rooms in the hotel booked out.
Once he had done that, you tidying up a few of the boxes, Spencer fixed the fire guard in front of the diminishing flames when you stood and said;
“Goodnight, or…Good morning or…whichever it is. I’ll see you when I wake up.”
“I love you.”
That stopped you in your tracks and woke you up.
With you back still to Spencer, you took a moment to breathe. Maybe you had just imagined it.
You heard Spencer whisper something to himself, a small battle growing large in his head over letting those three words slip.
Until, he said them again.
And this time you heard him crystal clear.
“I love you.”
Turning around slowly, you were soon met with his own back.
“What?”
Your voice, despite how much you thought you had your emotions in check, wavered.
Spencer turned around to face you. “I-I’m sorry. I-I should just let you-”
“Spencer, wait-”
You practically jumped forward, reaching out for him to stop. And he did.
“Say it again.”
Standing so close to him, the heat you felt…you couldn’t tell if it was from the diminishing embers or from Spencer himself.
“I love you.”
“Do you…” you swallowed, looking down for a moment, feeling his fingers trace yours. You finally looked back up to his face. “Do you mean it…as in…”
“M-more than what we are.”
It was his turn for his voice to shake.
“Are you…sure that you…”
“Sure enough, like how I know how…how to…breathe. Although, right now I don’t know how much of that is true because…because I don’t know how to-”
You placed a hand on his chest but Spencer’s own hand came to cover yours and moved it over his heart.
“I’d say you’re breathing.”
Spencer smiled. “Good.”
“I love you. I-I don’t know what this means, or what it will do and, honestly, I didn’t mean to tell you like this but I was thinking and then, I started overthinking and, I don’t know, when you said goodnight, I meant to say it back and then I-”
“Spence. Spencer,” you tried your best to slow him down. His heart was practically beating out of his chest. “I love you, too.”
“You-you love me, too?”
“I do.”
“You do?”
You nodded, holding his face in your hands. “I do. I love you, too, Spencer. I-I always have.”
From your hips, one of Spencer’s hands stopped at your waist, pulling you in just a little bit closer until your body was flushed with his before allowing his other to move further up, brushing the hair from your face and across your back. His finger traced the shape of your face, before settling under your jaw, bringing your face closer to his.
He took it slow.
Even despite the fact you had reciprocated his feelings of love, he gave you time to opt out. To say no. to push him away.
Flicking his eyes from your own, to your lips and back again. The first touch of his lips against yours was soft, barely fleeting.
Until you kissed back.
Your relaxed hands pulled him slightly closer, first by his neck, then by the collar of his shirt. All the while, his arms snaked around you, holding you flush against him.
“I might be a few years late in asking, but,” Spencer said once he finally managed to catch his breath. “Can I take you on a date?”
“Yes. Yes, Spencer. You can take me on a date.”
Years Later...
“Did I ever tell you you look good in this?”
“Your cardigans, you mean?” You smiled as Spencer took hold of your hand and pulled you closer. “Oh, every day. But I don’t mind hearing it again.”
“Well, you do.”
With a smile as he pulled you down and onto his lap, you kissed him, your arms coming around his neck and across his shoulders.
“Good.”
It had been four years since Spencer had first admitted his feelings for you and, even if life had sent you both through trials and tribulations, you’d both made it alive, together and stronger than ever.
It hadn’t taken that long for the rest of the team to figure out something had finally happened between you two, however, it still had taken a while. It was only because Morgan recognised a second cardigan that had belonged to Spencer less than a week earlier suddenly wrapped around you one late evening.
“And speaking of cardigans…” you sat up a little straighter to see Spencer as he leaned his head back to take you in fully.
He still looked at you with as much love and adoration as he had done that early morning in the hotel. Perhaps even more.
“We’re gonna need to buy a couple more.”
“Didn’t you just buy one yesterday?”
“Perhaps,” you nodded. “But this one isn’t for you, well…us…exactly.”
It hadn’t taken long for you to start wearing Spencer’s cardigans on a daily basis, but he was more than agreeable to it considering whenever he saw you in one of his, his heart soared and he knew you felt safe in them, too.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, considering ours might be a little too big…”
Then it clicked for Spencer.
“You’re…”
From a small pocket in your cardigan, you pulled out a positive pregnancy test.
“You’re gonna be a dad, Spence.”
Tears already starting to fall from your eyes, you watched as Spencer welled up and with a shaking hand took hold of the test to look at it.
“You’re pregnant?”
“I’m pregnant.”
“You’re pregnant!”
“I’m pregnant!”
In a sweeping kiss, Spencer pulled you closer as you slid down and lay against his side, your legs still over his.
“We’re gonna have a baby.” Spencer smiled, turning from the pregnancy test to you with a smile unlike any other you’d ever seen on his face.
