This is where you can find the connected series of Hotch x BAU Male Reader fics known as the Whiskeyverse.
They will also be under the tag #whiskeyverse
Will edit and reblog with new additions as they are released
Be mindful of the content warnings on each part!
These Fleeting Moments - 6,431 words
Reader and Hotch have both been a little off since their last case. Much like during the case, Reader makes the hasty decision to do something about it. Set around mid season 3.
At Cross Purposes - 13,313 words
Reader and Hotch try to make good on their unspoken agreement to stop shutting out the rest of the team. A night out at the bar should be simple enough, right?
Actions and Thoughts - 17,840 words
Mondays are always the worst, but Reader is dreading it a little more than normal considering the last time he saw the team he was a little drunk, bleeding, and disoriented. Work should be easy compared to that, right?
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Also available on Fanfic ○ Ao3 ○ Wattpad
Aitana felt a couple of jabs on her left arm when Emily pulled her off the ground. Her ears were ringing. Everything was ringing, actually.
"Oh God, that hurt," Aitana groaned then winced when Emily touched her left arm.
"Looks like you got a bit of glass in there," Emily said, checking the three wounds on Aitana's arm as best as she could. They were just outside the bank, covered in soot, thankfully alive.
"What the hell happened?" Aitana looked at the bank and immediately gasped. "Oh my God — did it explode?"
"Yeah," nodded Emily, "Go back and let the paramedics look at you."
"No way in hell," Aitana said while Emily got a head start into the bank. She hurried after Emily, careful to lift her feet to cross over the chunks of cement that had fallen. "These guys might still be in there."
"I doubt it," Emily remarked, eyeing the ruins with disdain, "This was planned."
"She was disappearing from the screens every now and then," Aitana said, "She set off the bomb?"
"More than likely." Emily led them down the stairs to where the vault had been.
Each one was a little slower than normal, but neither one would admit to it. Aitana definitely wouldn't admit that her arm stung pretty badly.
They came across a storage room and to their surprise, there was an elderly couple sitting on the ground. They hurried to check their pulses and while the woman was weak, she was conscious unlike her husband who was completely out of it.
"We can't move them on our own," Aitana said.
"You go back upstairs and get the medics," Emily said, secretly hoping that the medics would stop Aitana and treat her arm while they were at it.
Before Aitana even moved, they heard Morgan's and JJ's calls. The two scurried over to the women and checked them over.
"Are you guys okay?" JJ said.
"Yeah, fine," Aitana said before Emily could mention her arm, "What about you guys? And the others?"
"Compeltely fine," Morgan said, his head turning towards the civilians.
"They were hiding back here," Emily explained.
"Can we move them?"
"Yeah, with help. He's unconscious."
"Just let me stay with him," the elderly woman begged them with a strained voice.
"I can't find Will," JJ said to the women, hoping they would give her a clue of his whereabouts.
"He might be down below," Emily told her and watched JJ dash down without a second thought.
"Okay, we're going to get help," Morgan said, reaching for Aitana's arm only to hear her hiss and recoil.
"Glass in the arm," Emily said before Aitana would make up an excuse.
"You need to see a medic," Morgan said and reached for Aitana's other arm. "And you've got one very worried Pretty Boy up above. C'mon."
"What?" Aitana looked back at Emily as Morgan pulled her towards the stairs.
~ 0 ~
Morgan personally walked Aitana out of the bank's front entrance and brought her to the nearest paramedic. He only left her when he was sure she wouldn't deny medical attention. About fifteen minutes later, Spencer was running towards her while the medic was still helping her.
"Aitana! Thank God you're okay!" He stopped beside her and examined the wounds on her arm. They were located towards her shoulder but looked more or less superficial.
"Like I've been telling everyone, I'm okay," Aitana said, "I didn't figure it out on time but I'm okay."
Spencer knew that was a jab for him. He sighed. "Aitana, I didn't mean it the way you think I did."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Aitana said. The medic finished patching her up and left her with a series of bandaids on her arm. Aitana then hopped off the truck and started walking, leaving Spencer to follow.
"You do because it upset you." Spencer found no other choice but to grab her (noninjured) arm and turn her around. "I say things, I ramble, but you gotta believe me when I say I would never say anything to hurt your feelings. I could never do that to you."
Aitana looked at him, flushing under his intense gaze. Spencer reached for one of her hands, freezing her in her spot.
"I have a big mouth, I know I do. People have told me that before…they've also gotten upset with me because of it…" Spencer sighed, his eyes falling on his hand holding Aitana's. "I love my friends but I usually always end up screwing something up with at least one of them, especially the important ones." He leaned closer to her face, almost as if he were going to kiss her.
Aitana certainly thought so, which was why she now felt her heart racing at about a hundred beats a second. She'd never had him this close to her and, after a bit of thinking, she found that she didn't mind at all. In fact, why hadn't this happened before?
Because you were busy denying things, went the little voice in her head. Yup, that was exactly why.
"I'm sorry," Spencer insisted, hoping he would hit some kind of luck that wouldn't let him ruin the friendship he built with Aitana. He didn't know what he would do if she didn't forgive him. Panicking even more, he slid his arms around her, going instead for a hug. He could've gone for what he actually wanted, probably should have…
Either way, however disappointing it was, Aitana still brought her arms around him as well. She felt his head trying to hide in the crook of her neck. She hugged him tighter.
"It's okay," she whispered to him. She had to restrain herself from leaving a kiss in his hair. The circumstances begged for it but she wasn't brave enough. She had to settle for what a friend would do. "We're okay. I promise."
~0~
While the team didn't find Will near the bank, they found clues the he left behind to prove he was still alive. It was the next best thing.
Penelope brought up a few street cameras to try and track the unsubs down. She eventually found a car that seemed to be driven by their unsubs. "Ok, I can see two figures in the car," she said as she tried to zoom in even further on the front window.
JJ leaned in herself to try and catch anything. "Please tell me one of them is Will."
"See how she's turned?" Emily noted the awkward sitting position the Queen was sitting in. "It's like she's keeping an eye on someone in the back."
"Does this mean Will's in the car?" Penelope looked hopeful at her.
"There's somebody back there."
"What's the license plate?" asked Hotch.
Penelope did the research and came up with a strange answer. "That's weird. They're government tags. Federal."
Indeed the car turned out to be a black SUV that even they used.
"Well, they're either stolen or forged," Rossi said, sounding slightly impressed with the tactic. It wasn't one they saw every day. "Who the hell are these people?"
"They set up roadblocks in the district from 66 to Dulles," Penelope read off her screen.
"Wait. So we're looking for a black SUV with its sirens on," Kevin remarked, "That's gonna stand out."
"They must have a safe house set up," Aitana spoke up, wanting to keep some of that optimism going. "I mean, they can't expect to escape so they gotta have somewhere else to go."
"I bet it'll have to do with their outside man," Morgan said, "It's the only way."
"But where would they be headed?" JJ racked her brain for any logical answer, something that would get them closer to Will. "What's their end game?"
"There's no logical reason," Hotch said, "They want to create panic."
And, oh, they had created panic indeed.
"She's struck all over the world, which says she might not be American, but her ideology certainly speaks to Washington," Spencer said, "Whatever point she and her partner are making, it's important that D. C.'s the setting."
"The brothers were from Philadelphia," Rossi said, "The other partner might be homegrown as well."
"Homeland's sending over a list of possibilities," Penelope said, switching tabs on the screen.
"They're not on anyone's list," Hotch said, stopping her.
"Then how do we find them?"
"We find the common denominators between all 14 robberies and we go from there."
"So she's our only answer." Strauss did not like the odds that gave them.
"I'll call Easter at Interpol again," Emily offered, "Now that there's been an explosion, he might have some ideas." She headed out of the truck to make that call.
~0~
When Emily returned to the team, they had gotten a few lab results from the remaining bomb pieces. It led them to a very old fashioned phone used to fund the explosion — 10 years old.
"A woman they called Lady X stole a sedan from Scotland Yard 8 years ago," Emily related the story Easter had told her, "The investigation concluded she was a trained assassin. She disappeared."
"So Lady X and Queen of Diamonds is the same person?" Strauss asked her.
"It sounds like it." Emily moved behind Penelope's chair at the computers. "Garcia, look at assassination attempts around the civil unrest in Chad. If she was a hired gun, she was likely taking orders from someone. Maybe she's still working for the same guy now and he's still pulling the strings."
"Or maybe she's found her equal," Hotch said, thinking it was more of a probability rather than still a loose theory. "Their obsession with killing and domination has culminated in what we've seen today."
"Getting off on the disaster they've created. Classic symphorphiliacs," Spencer said, no doubt about it.
"Then this isn't over," JJ said, swallowing hard. They had Will with them. "Now that they've gotten away with this, where are they gonna strike next?"
~0~
Half an hour later, there was an emergency call involving one dead body, shot in the stomach with a bullet. JJ raced to get there, so Morgan joined he'd. The rest of the team stayed behind to continue trying to identify the unsubs. They relaxed a little learning Will was not dead — a medic had helped patch him up and was unfortunately killed.
Working fervently, Penelope and Kevin managed to note something important in the bank footage. They quickly showed it to the others.
"All right, here's where Chris started shooting hostages," Penelope said, zooming in on the moment, "The fella next to him didn't even flinch. Doesn't even break a sweat. We know he's ex-military, but still…"
"His name is Matthew Downs," Kevin explained as Penelope brought up the information about the man. "That's what he told Rossi and he wasn't lying.
"History shows dishonorable discharge from USMC in '04," said Penelope.
"Ok, do me a favor and go back to the screen," Spencer asked her and moved beside her chair. He watched intently as Penelope rewinded to the moment he asked for. "Keep going. To where Will walks in." Penelope set the footage to go forward. "Ok, now watch him."
Chris had shot Will and in the meantime, right behind him, the Queen and Matthew shared some pretty interesting glances.
"Look at her," Aitana said incredulously, "Her partner was in there the whole time, just not in the way that we thought. They've — they've literally been recording themselves like a…like a home movie."
"He could have been killed." Penelope understood nothing of what was happening. Chris has turned his gun over to Matthew afterwards, threatening to kill Matthew.
"No, she wouldn't let that happen," Hotch said, "It's all part of their plan. They've created scenarios that are practically impossible to survive. When they make it, it's the ultimate high."
"Like an adrenaline junkie," Kevin realized.
"Let's try to find Matthew Downs," Hotch instructed the team.
They ventured into the streets, combing through the officers and victims and came up with nothing. When they started asking if anyone had seen Matthew Downs, nobody could answer. He was like a ghost who had disappeared.
When JJ and Morgan returned as well, JJ had practically come only to drop Morgan off and make a turn for home. Out of everything Will left behind, JJ noticed his driver's license was missing in his wallet. Rossi immediately volunteered to drive her to her place to secure Henry. There was no way she was going there on her own.
"We may or may not be on a clock here," Morgan said when JJ had left, "We need to find Will now."
The others agreed and started reviewing once again. The more they reviewed, the more likely they were to figure out something they missed the first time.
"Today was less about the money and more about the spectacle," Hotch said the biggest detail of the case so far. "Everything they've said and done was for a reason.
"You know," Aitana tilted her head at the screens. Penelope had left the screens on the close ups on the Queen and Matthew. "Rossi said she was very adamant to go to Chad, while Chris wanted to go to Switzerland. Why?"
"They also requested a private plane, but no mention of a pilot," Morgan added.
"Guys, if you think about it, even the dates mean something," Spencer said, having racked his brain for those missing event details. He instructed Penelope to bring up a timeline of Matthew's work, the ones they were very privy to anyways. "In 2004, while she was wreaking havoc abroad, he was dishonorably discharged. Then in 2008, they likely met in Chad. And now this in 2012."
"Ok, so is it a coincidence that those are all election years and they attacked D. C.?" Morgan wondered. "Maybe this is a political statement."
"No. It's more personal than that…" Emily said, eyeing the screen, "It's their story. All of the details are a part of their story."
"Their timeline suggests they were both destructive before they met," Hotch remarked, "So we're talking about ex-military turning on their country."
Emily agreed with him. "It's rare, but soldiers become disenfranchised no matter what the nationality. And if he met someone like-minded at that time, there'd be no stopping them."
"So you're thinking they met during the civil unrest in Chad in '08?" Aitana asked.
"Yeah, and one or both of them are pilots," Spencer said, "So if Garcia concentrates on that region, specifically weapons running in and out of Libya, there's a good chance we'll find their paths crossed."
Penelope knew to act then and started research on screens. "Ok, multiple entries into Libya for a private pilot named Matthew Downs in '08, but I don't have her name."
"Well, because she had aliases," Emily said, unsurprised. "It's the only way to stay a ghost. Here's the thing — they are a couple. Regardless of what we believe of them, they will celebrate themselves and their connection. Is there anything that happened on this date in Chad?"
"Oh, you are good, Emily Prentiss!" Penelope said when the details started piling on her screen. "But this news is not. Yes, there were multiple explosions on this date in '08!"
"Where were the most casualties?" Hotch asked her.
"At a church — no, no, a train! Yep!"
"Uh oh," Aitana blinked, "Are trains still arriving at Union Station?"
"Yes, but only the authorities are allowed in," Penelope said.
"That's why they needed Will," Emily concluded.
"Let's go!" Hotch said, taking the lead out of the truck.
~0~
Despite being told numerous times to stay behind, Aitana was right behind with Emily at the train station. She didn't make it this far to stay back in an ambulance. There were plenty of people being evacuated by other local enforcement at the station, making it that much harder to maneuver the situation.
"He's gonna want to stay close to watch," Hotch warned the group through their ear comms.
Setting a second bomb would give them the high they needed after surviving the first one, which just made sense for Matthew to stick around to see it.
Aitana split from Emily at the higher levels, one taking the east and the other the west hallways. What better way to watch the chaos than to watch it from the highest floors just before the bomb was about to go off?
"Hotch, I got the suspect going out the east wing!" Morgan suddenly exclaimed, no doubt taking off after the man.
"On my way!" Hotch said a moment later.
Neither Aitana nor Emily bothered to follow as they were still looking for the bomb itself. Instead, Emily found Will chained up to said explosive.
"Is he mobile?" Hotch asked.
"Negative. He's got 6 transmitters on him and this whole place is gonna blow!"
"All right, where are you? I'm on my way."
"No, you gotta get everyone out!"
"I got it, Hotch. I'm closer anyways." Aitana was already running back from where she came from.
Emily was already working on trying to disarm the explosives when Aitana reached them.
"You should've gotten out of here!" Emily told her.
"And leave you? No way!" Aitana fell to her knees beside Will. "As cliche as it sounds, we're all in this together. So, what can I do?"
What Emily was not going to do was sit there and argue with someone who thought more left like her, so they got to work. The timer on Will's chest was counting down from 2 minutes.
"Ok, everything they did and said was about them," Emily said, leading Aitana to agree.
"Classic narcissists," she said.
"Romantics."
"Agree to disagree."
"So they met in 2008…" Emily typed in the year on the countpad.
"Ooh, what are you doing?" Will's voice shook with reasonable fear. "Seriously, just go! Go!"
The code had been wrong and so the time jumped down a few seconds.
"What about Chad!?" Aitana suggested. "She was so hellbent on Chad, right?"
Emily agreed and typed it in. "2-4-2-3."
It turned out to be wrong again and so now the counter was down to 30 seconds.
"Oh! Damn it!" Emily groaned. "Ok, these are valentines for her, so a 4-letter word. Love, life, soul—"
"Izzy," Will said, having it occur to him. If he was going to die, he might as well try. "Her name is Izzy."
Emily typed it in the name and to their surprise, it worked. Of course, a second later, a second transmitter opened up on Will's arm. It counted back from 20 seconds.
"Oh, God!" Aitana exclaimed, frantically glancing at Emily. "Now what!?"
"Look at the wires!" Emily scooted closer to the second transmitter, prompting Aitana to shoot as well.
Hotch tried calling them in for their status but Emily ripped her comms. out to focus better. "The storytelling's in the details."
"We're good!" Aitana answered him, even though it was a blatant lie. She then promptly pulled her comms. out as well. "Okay! You said it's all about the story — their story — so it's the colors, right? It's the colors of the wires!" There were three wires on the transmitter — red, yellow and blue.
"What do they mean?" Will couldn't glance at the wires properly, making things feel worse for him.
"The colors of the flag of Chad!" Emily said.
"How do you know that!?" Aitana looked at her incredulously.
"I read," Emily said distractedly as she studied the wires better. She held her hand out and Aitana promptly planted a pair of scissors from their vests. "Red, yellow, and blue. Only one is different from the U. S. flag — yellow."
Aitana anxiously watched Emily cut the yellow wire. The counter stopped right at three.
"Ooh! How'd you do that?" Will slumped against the pole he was chained too, finally able to breathe properly.
"I didn't overthink it…" Emily let out a breath of relief.
Aitana fell on the floor on her bottom, letting out a heavy sigh. "Emily Prentiss, I absolutely love you!"
"Mhm…" Emily nodded. She liked herself a lot right now too.
"Let's just…let's just take 5…" Aitana laid flat on the floor, "Just 5…"
"Yeah, and maybe get your arm checked out again," Emily said, leaning over to Will to start untying him. "Both of you."
"Mm?" Aitana sat up and looked at her arm. She could see the thin bandages were no longer doing their job. "Okay, maybe…"
Emily didn't leave it up for debate.
~0~
Late in the evening, the team, save for JJ who had earned herself a reasonable amount of time off, returned to the BAU to finish off the lingering kinks of their grand case. Aitana even returned a little later to finish her part. Her wounds had been properly stitched up now that she gave the rental the opportunity.
Penelope came down the steps into the bullpen still wearing her costume from the morning, a time that felt like eons ago.
"The convention's still happening tomorrow if you want to go," Spencer told her.
Penelope made a face and shook her head. "That whole city on the brink of destruction thing kind of took the wind out of my sails, you know? That'll do it every time."
"I need a pick me up," Aitana said and turned to Emily, "Emily, when's the housewarming party?"
Emily blinked and suddenly everyone was looking at her expecting her to give them a date for the house she was supposed to own by now. "Umm..there is a horizontal crack in the foundation. It just weakens the entire base that the house is sitting on. So, um, no house."
"Yeah. That does not sound good," Penelope said with a shake of her head.
Strauss came out of Hotch's office and stopped by the group with some good news. "So, our unsub is Izzy Rogers." She presented them with a record of their Queen of Diamonds. "She'll be charged with multiple counts domestically, and our international counterparts will have their turn with her. She will never see the light of day. I just thought you'd like to know that."
"Best news ever!" Penelope gave a thumbs up.
"Agent Morgan, a word?" Strauss motioned with Morgan to follow her a little to the side.
A minute later, Hotch emerged from his office carrying a phone call. "Hang on, let me check. Oh, wait, she's here. Erin, don't go anywhere!" He told the woman then addressed the others. "Dave wants to know if everyone is free tomorrow night?"
"Well, it depends on if he's buying," Morgan said, "Then I'm definitely in."
"Yeah, me, too!" Aitana said gleefully. She could do with a good evening, even if it was tomorrow.
"You hear that?" Hotch spoke into the phone again. "We're in." He said a few more things and then suddenly he was calling for Aitana. "Rossi wants to ask you something."
"Me?" Aitana blinked a few times. "Why me?"
Hotch shrugged. "I don't know. Find out."
"O-okay…" Aitana looked at the others with a bemused smile then rushed to take Hotch's phone.
A few minutes later, she went into her office then came back into the bullpen with her purse. Everyone immediately noticed her mischievous grin.
"What did Rossi want?" Emily eyed the brunette curiously.
"Nooothing," Aitana giggled. "If you'll excuse me, I have something to get ready for tomorrow." She wiggled her fingers goodbye. "See yah!"
~0~
In the early evening of the next day, they started gathering at Rossi's house. He had gone all out with his grand backyard decorated beautifully with tables and what seemed like a dance floor. Lights were strung around the place, twinkling in the dark night.
"Oooh, look at that!" Penelope was drawn to the flower arch in the middle of the backyard. She had dragged Spencer with her to admire it together. "It's so pretty! Rossi, I love it!"
Rossi stopped by with a drink in hand. "Thanks, but it was actually Aitana who found it. She's very good at planning that one." He gave a mock salute towards the two.
"Is she here yet?" Spencer asked, already looking around for the missing brunette.
"Uh, no, she'll be in a little later," Rossi said, and while Spencer was still looking away, Penelope noted the secretive smile on Rossi's face.
"What are you guys up to?" She grew more curious by the second, and even more so when Rossi's smile turned into a smirk. "Rossi?" The man gave another mock salute and went on his way. "Ross—Rossi! Come back! Oooh, he's up to something! We should find out, Spencer," She huffed and turned to Spencer. "What — Spencer!?"
"What?" He blinked and looked back at Penelope, startled. "What was that?"
"You didn't just—" Penelope pointed after Rossi— "Rossi's up to something! Didn't you notice it?"
"Uh, no, sorry…" Spencer's gaze started to drift again. Hotch, Beth and Jack had just arrived and were talking with Emily and Morgan.
"What? But you always notice everything," Penelope said, frowning. "It's like the best, yet equally annoying, talent of yours."
Morgan brought Beth and Jack out to the garden where the boy immediately dashed to the fountain.
"Morgan, something's wrong with Spencer," Penelope declared as soon as Morgan was within hearing distance.
"What?" Spencer frowned. "No, no, no, I'm okay. I'm just…" He looked around again and there was still no Aitana. The disappointment was hard to deny, even if it was to himself.
Morgan only looked at Spencer for about ten seconds before he began smirking. Penelope still didn't know what was going on which just irritated her even more.
"I swear I hate it when you two don't tell me stuff!" she huffed and marched off.
Morgan was decent enough to wait until Penelope was gone to talk to Spencer. "I thought I told you to say everything already" — he hit Spencer's shoulder — "Yesterday."
Spencer stepped back from the hit, rubbing his shoulder, then let out a sigh. "I heard you, I did—"
"Then why are we still here?" Morgan rubbed his forehead. "You nearly lost it twice — you lost her almost twice —"
"She's not mine," Spencer mumbled and received another whack on his chest.
"Because of you!" Morgan exclaimed then chuckled. "This is starting to move on from being 'funny' to just being plain sad."
Spencer couldn't argue about that. He felt 'sad' a lot of the time lately, and those times were usually when he was away from the BAU, ergo away from Aitana. Although he had perfect memory, it seemed like this time he couldn't pinpoint when things had changed so drastically.
"What if—?"
JJ's surprised laugh cut through the conversation and because she, Will and Henry had finally arrived, everyone turned in their direction.
"Someone knows how to throw a party," JJ had said to Rossi, "You don't mess around."
"What can I tell you?" Rossi shrugged. "I'm the host with the most."
"No kidding," JJ said, gazing at the backyard behind him.
"Hey, look who's here…" Rossi's words drove her attention to a very familiar blonde woman coming out of the house behind the group.
JJ did a double-take at the woman, shocked. "Mom?" Her mother smiled. "Ok, what's-what's going on?"
"Well," Will leaned over to her, "we couldn't get married without your mama."
JJ looked over at Rossi questionably. The latter grinned. "I might have overheard a little proposal yesterday."
"And I couldn't wait till Monday," Will added.
"Okay…" JJ nodded and threw Will and Henry sharp looks, "so this is why you guys are so dressed up, huh?"
"Yes. And you will be, too," Mrs. Jaraeu said, motioning to the dress cover in her arms, "I brought something borrowed."
JJ's eyes widened. "Mom, is that your dress?"
"Yes. Let's go see if it still fits."
"Wait, wait!" Someone cried and seconds later Aitana came bustling into the backyard with a special box in her hands. "Mom's got the dress, I've got the 'something blue'!"
"You made it!" Penelope said, still sounding crossed. "Why are you late, Sprinkles!?"
Aitana giggled. "I had to make a stop first! Then I had to call for help!" She looked back into the house. "Over here!" She stepped to the side just as Elia and Hotch carried in a big pink box. "Typically in Mexico, you get padrinos for weddings. I" — she gestured to herself — "am your madrina del pastel." At the blank faces she received from most of her friends, she laughed and translated. "Cake godmother."
"Wow, okay…" JJ was absolutely dazzled with the surprise that just kept getting better and better. She glanced back as Morgan helped Hotch and Elia settle the cake on a table. "Where did you even—"
"JJ, my parents run a bakery," Aitana reminded the woman. "Now go get dressed! Go!" She handed JJ the box with her something blue and ushered the two inside the house.
"Good girl," Rossi told her afterwards, to which she laughed.
"You know, if this whole profiler-liaison thing doesn't work, I think I could make a good wedding planner," Aitana said proudly, making the others chuckle.
"Let's get ready, shall we?" Rossi motioned the others to help him move a couple things.
While JJ got ready upstairs, the officiator had arrived. The others helped settle the cake better on the table. Aitana oversaw the whole thing. Once things seemed to be in order, they waited for JJ to come down.
That's when Spencer took his moment.
He moved around the others until he came up to Aitana. "Um, hey." As soon as the words left his mouth, Spencer regretted it. Couldn't he come up with something better than that?
Aitana didn't seem to think his words were bad as she turned around and greeted him. "Hi."
"Hi…" That time, the word was fine but his breathing was off. In fact, Spencer felt like he had lost the ability to breathe in general and he knew there was no medical reason for that to be happening.
But Aitana was the reason — the sole reason for his loss of breath. From a distance, Spencer knew that Aitana looked beautiful. She was dressed in a golden cocktail dress with spaghetti straps. Her usual wavy hair was in more defined curls and there was a red shade of lipstick coating her lips. And she smelled so nice too…a beautiful intoxicating scent — talk about an oxymoron.
"U-uh I…about yesterday!" Spencer exclaimed when he realized he'd been silent for too long. "I-I wanted to…to talk about yesterday…" He took in a shaky breath.
"Oh, yesterday? Yeah, no…we don't…we don't need to discuss that," Aitana shook her head.
"We do, we really do," Spencer said, "Because…because I did not mean to say that stuff. Honest. I swear!"
"I know," Aitana said, smiling warmly. "And I should've known better than to think otherwise. You're always so sweet to me." She sighed. "I'm just really, really, stupid sometimes. I misunderstand a lot of things."
"No!" Spencer said with a frown. "You're not — you're not stupid! I think you're very smart."
Aitana's smile broadened. "Yeah, you would say that. Sweet. Honest, Spencer, I'm not mad about it anymore. I should've never been mad about it. You literally time everything."
Spencer chuckled. "Yeah, yeah I do. I don't even realize it, honestly."
"It's fine," Aitana assured him. "Now, why don't we go watch the wedding? I helped plan it, didn't you know?"
Spencer smiled at her and her excitement. Now everything made sense around her and Rossi with their secrecies. "Yeah, I heard."
JJ soon returned from upstairs wearing her mother's wedding dress. She was dazzling when she met Will on the stand. And in half an hour, the couple were officially husband and wife. With the congratulations here and there, it took them a while to move to the table for the traditional toast and dinner.
Rossi led the toast in the middle of the tables that were set up in a squarelike manner. He tapped his glass to get everyone's attention. "They say that good things happen to good people. Today is one of those days, and these are two of those people. We love you. Cheers."
"Cheers!" Everyone toasted to the newlyweds and drank.
As the night progressed, music started to play and with it came the carefree atmosphere that everyone had needed. Emily 'lurked' around the party, really taking in the sight of her friends one last time. She was going to be brave and tell them, yes, but tomorrow. For tonight, she would settle for tying up a few loose ends and…nudging those who needed to be nudged.
Unironically, there were only a few people who weren't dancing at the moment. Aitana and Elia were busy at the cake, deciding that one slice was not enough for them.
"Hey, look at you guys," Emily chuckled at the sight. They were like two little girls sneaking in a bite of cake.
"Don't tell our parents," Aitana said as if she had read Emily's thoughts.
"When we were younger, we would swipe our fingers into the finished cakes from Aitana's bakery," Elia snickered. "We used to get into so much trouble! I'm surprised your parents still let me come back!"
Aitana snorted. "I'm surprised I didn't get kicked out."
"Well, hey, do you guys want to dance?" Emily gestured back to the dance floor. "You're missing out on some 'awesome' dance moves" — she nodded dramatically, causing another round of snickers — "from Morgan."
"Yeah," Aitana peered around Emily, "I kinda wanna see it from afar."
"Speak for yourself," Elia laughed, "That's the kind of thing you see from a very short distance!"
Aitana laughed as her friend dashed off. Emily stopped her from following with a grave 'got a moment?'.
Emily bit on her bottom lip, really wanting to start off on the best foot and not screw this up. "You know, when I first met you, I'm not gonna lie, I thought you were a little weird."
Aitana started to laugh. "I hope you didn't think I wouldn't be!"
Emily chuckled. "No, no, I think you were exactly what this team needed. Which is why I'm very grateful that JJ thought of you as her replacement. She, like me, saw something in you that…sparked with someone. And even beyond that, you just fit so nicely with the team. It didn't feel like you were replacing anyone."
Aitana cocked her head to one side, her brows furrowing suspiciously. "Why does this sound like a goodbye speech?" Emily's smile that time was sad. Aitana felt a terrible pit in her stomach. "Emily, no." She put her cake on the table behind her and focused on this conversation she predicted would be very, very terrible. "Why…why-why are you leaving?"
Emily shrugged lightly. "I think it's the right move for me." And as hard as it seemed to be to speak her truth, Aitana felt the confidence in the decision. There was no turning back.
"I'm sorry—"
"No, you shouldn't apologize for knowing that this is what you have to do," Aitana said. "I should know. Is it fair to say that I miss you already?"
Emily chuckled. "Only if it's fair to say the same thing about you guys."
"Aww…" Aitana couldn't help it. She hugged Emily tightly and wished her all the best things in whatever she wanted to do next. "The team won't be the same without you."
"Yeah," Emily parted from Aitana, "But you'll be just fine. And you know what? You'll be even better if you decide to do something for yourself."
"Like what? Eat more cake?" Aitana reached for her cake on the table.
"No," Emily stopped her and turned them both towards the dancefloor, "I meant do something for your heart."
Aitana was smart enough, and also quite tired knowing what everyone was talking about, so this time around…she didn't say anything. She just looked out ahead to where their friends danced.
"Can I ask you something?" Emily asked. Aitana nodded silently. "I thought you guys were amazing together — from the start, actually. And today, I know you guys are great. So why don't you tell Spencer how you feel?"
Aitana bit on her bottom lip. Her eyes set on Spencer who was showing Henry a magic trick. There were a dozen great things she could say about him and yet not one word would suffice to encompass just how much she felt for him. So that's what she responded with.
"I'm not…what he needs."
"What? You are exactly what he needs," Emily looked at Aitana with a bemused smile. She couldn't believe that Aitana didn't believe it. "You're…you've had him since the day you met, Aitana. You didn't feel that spark? That connection? Personally, I've never seen someone connect over a puzzle. But you and Spencer seemed to have no trouble with that."
"A puzzle is different, Emily," Aitana said grimly, "I like doing puzzles because that's the only thing I know how to do. Spencer knows way more things that I-I wouldn't be able to keep up with him. I'm afraid he'd get bored of me. That he eventually would see how insignificant I am in comparison to him."
"No," Emily said sharply, "He wouldn't. For a profiler, you sure have missed a lot in this specific case. It's not about academics here. I doubt that's what Spencer thinks of when he thinks about you because yes" — she pointed at Aitana just as the latter opened her mouth — "he thinks about you. A lot. You have introduced him to things I bet he never thought about doing, and it would be a real shame if you didn't at least try to see if went anywhere."
For some reason, Aitana felt a sting in her eyes. "Can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
"I don't want to get hurt. I…haven't had a relationship since I went into Witness. After I got out, I-I couldn't get myself together. I couldn't even hold a job. I didn't date anyone because I didn't want to bring them down with me. I would never forgive myself if I did that to Spencer. He's so sweet, Emily. I don't want to hurt him—ever."
"I think right now, you're hurting yourselves with this excruciating silence." Emily gave Aitana another hug. She whispered something in Aitana's ear before she pulled away.
Aitana watched Emily leave with a stunned face.
~ 0 ~
He was surprised when Emily slipped in front of him on the dancefloor. Spencer had no idea what it looked like when someone willingly wanted to dance with him but for Emily, it was all good.
Until she told him what she did.
"No—" he tried to stop dancing but she gripped his arms and forced him to keep moving. "Emily, if you have ever valued my friendship — my life — please tell me you were joking."
Emily was dead serious when she shook her head at him and reiterated that she had spoken with Aitana. "I didn't tell her anything about you. I just…asked her to evaluate what she wanted."
"Why? Why? Why?" Spencer all but whined.
"Because we're all tired of this nonsense," Emily retorted then called upon Morgan's and Penelope's opinions as they danced beside them.
"Oh definitely," Morgan said with a roll of his eyes.
"It's getting really old," Penelope said and turned with Morgan.
"Seriously, Spence, do yourself the favor," Emily said, "She nearly died twice yesterday. Doesn't that make you wanna run and get her already?"
Spencer's mind went back to his frantic state at the bank after the explosion. For the first time in his life, he hadn't been able to think one single coherent thought that wasn't about Aitana's wellbeing. It only stopped when he had her in front of him and he could see for himself that she was alive and well.
"I…almost kissed her…" He admitted, and that time Emily did stop dancing, absolutely stunned with him. He cleared his throat, feeling his face light up on fire. He thanked God that Morgan and Penelope weren't dancing nearby anymore.
Without saying a word (yet), Emily grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the dancefloor. She then turned on him, opening her mouth only for him to cut her off.
"After the explosion, I didn't know what happened to Aitana and I…I panicked, Emily. I panicked like I have never panicked before." Even now, it scared Spencer to think about ever feeling like that again. "I-I couldn't see anything past her safety. That's never happened before."
Emily smiled widely, and warmly, at him. "But you do know why it happened, right?"
Spencer shrugged lightly, meekly even. "Maybe…"
"So think about that happening again and not being able to hug or kiss her afterwards?"
Spencer shook his head slowly. He knew what Emily was going to say next so he beat her to it. "What if I ruin it? What if — what if I don't know how to do it and I end up ruining our friendship? I-I can't stand the idea of not seeing her."
"Then don't think about it ending. Think about all the things that brought you to her in the first place. Think about all that stuff and just…have fun, Spencer. I don't think you've ever really understood that word. Have fun with your life, with the person you really, really, like. Give yourself that opportunity and stop thinking about whether or not it would work."
Spencer swallowed hard. He looked around the backyard and spotted Aitana dancing with Morgan. His thoughts got away from him again.
He remembered the last time those two had danced together and the rage he didn't understand. He felt the rage tonight but this time he fully understood it. He accepted it.
Emily grew tired of waiting for him to respond. "Spencer—"
"Gotta go." He left Emily standing and strode to the dancefloor. He had no idea where the courage came and he wouldn't question it as he tapped Morgan's shoulder. "Can I cut in?"
Morgan was surprised and immediately raised his hands. "Any time."
Spencer felt a bit of his confidence wane when Morgan left and he realized what he had done. Aitana was now waiting for him to do something. He cleared his throat, twice, and asked if she wanted to dance with him. With a small smile, she nodded.
The little courage he had seconds earlier completely vanished when he slid an arm around her waist and his hand took hers. They danced slowly — when did a slow song start again? — in silence. There was no real way to start a conversation, at least not until Aitana's shawl started slipping from her shoulder.
"Sorry," Aitana mumbled as she stopped their dance to quickly pull it back.
Spencer smiled lightly at her. "It's fine."
"It got cold," Aitana said, throwing the other end of her shawl back over her shoulder. She hoped she didn't come across as 'uber excited' to get back to dancing. "That and I still have my lovely connect the dots on my arm." They shared a small laugh together. "Not exactly the pinnacle of grace I wanted to be tonight."
"I think you still look great," Spencer said without hesitation. He felt Aitana's subtle freeze and how she seemed to cower at his words by lowering her head, like she didn't believe. It led to his insistence of the fact. "You always look great to me."
Aitana let out a small scoff. "You've seen me at 5am. I know for a fact I don't look great then."
"I never noticed."
Aitana felt his sincerity. She looked up at him with a swelling heart. "You're not so bad yourself," she mumbled, "Actually, you're never 'bad'. Especially when you wear that purple scarf. Did you know purple is your color? Makes your eyes pop."
"U-uh, no, I…didn't know that…" Spencer was a blushing mess. Wasn't he supposed to be doing that to her? She always turned the tables on him, and he wasn't one bit mad at her for it.
Aitana's smile was wide; she knew he was blushing. He was always so shy about things like these. It was adorable.
"You know, some people believe that colors can actually influence people. For example, purple would be considered a bright color which usually gives a vibrant look to the wearer. Gold — or yellow — tend to remind people of happiness, optimism and youth." Only after he finished speaking did Spencer realize he had just rambled on about colors.
Aitana laughed softly. "Well, I like to wear gold and yellow because it's my favorite color…but nice to know that it also brings happiness to others."
Spencer still smiled at her, albeit in the end he felt ridiculous. This wasn't going how he expected. "I'm sorry, that was…that was pointless…"
Aitana made a face at him that he completely missed because he was staring at their shoes. "What are you talking about? I liked it. I always like what you have to say. I'm sorry if anyone's told you the opposite."
Hearing her guilt is what brought Spencer's head up. "It's not on you. I…I always say things and…not all of it is great, and not all of it is said at the best moments."
"Why wouldn't this moment be okay? I'm okay. Are you?"
Spencer drew in a small breath to answer her. "Honestly? No, I'm not okay."
Aitana definitely wasn't expecting to hear that answer. "O-oh…did I…did I do something?"
"No!" Spencer exclaimed. "You didn't do anything! It's…it's me. I'm-I'm trying to tell you something and I can't do it. Every time I get close, something else comes out instead. That's never happened to me before…but it always seems to happen when you're around." He stopped dancing, thinking the moment had passed. It flew past him at this point. "I'm sorry."
Even though she wasn't sure what he wanted to say, Aitana already felt disappointed. "Oh…I'm sorry."
Spencer shook his head, reiterating that it wasn't her fault. It was him. He couldn't do it. He couldn't just say it. Why couldn't he say it!?
Aitana watched him struggle on his own. She couldn't take it. She took his hand and led him out of the dancefloor, ignoring the passing looks of the others for her sake.
"What are you doing?" Spencer asked her when they stepped inside the house. He didn't mind holding her hand but he was still curious.
"When I got out of Witness, I couldn't be around groups of people. You encouraged me to take small steps to reintegrate. You're always helping me and you have no idea how much I appreciate it." She brought him to the front door and stepped out to the porch, pulling him with her. She then shut the door behind them and turned to face him. "When you're nervous, you should try to give yourself the space you need to breathe." She took both of his hands and held them between them. "Breathe," she gently instructed him.
Their eyes were locked on each other when they both took a breath in.
"They say when you're nervous, you should always talk to someone you can trust. I can be that person, if you'd like."
A little smile appeared on Spencer's face when he thought of the irony. "When did you become a doctor?"
Now it was Aitana's turn to blush. "I got the idea from you."
"Me?"
"When you started giving me tips, I started doing my own research. That's what you do to me, Spence. You motivate me to get better." Aitana's hands squeezed his. "You inspire me to be better. That's why I play games with you whenever you spew out something from your Well of Knowledge."
Spencer's smile spread. "Is that why you like reading together too?"
"No…" Aitana watched his smile wane with her answer. Her heart started picking up then. "I read with you because I like to spend time with you — alone."
Spencer's brows raised in surprise. The words failed him in that moment, so Aitana took her opportunity before she too chickened out.
"I would never pick out some classical Chinese book on my own but when you read it to me, I'm genuinely interested in it…and I also just like the sound of your voice. Did you know there's a different octave in your voice when you speak Chinese? Or that when you try to speak Spanish, one of your eyebrows sort of lifts? Did you know that sometimes when I get home, my blouse or sweater kind of smell like you? It's weird but it's true and I promise you that when I spend time with other people, I don't care about their every little moves. I just care about yours." Using her grip on their interlocked hands, Aitana leaned up closer to Spencer. "Is that close to what you were going to say to me?" She was breathless and desperate to hear his answer.
Her face was right in front of Spencer's, allowing him only a very little moment of concentration. Maybe that's the problem. Stop thinking. "More or less," he replied in a whisper. He felt like he was in a trance. No medical explanation for that either.
"O-okay, g-good…" Aitana swallowed hard, "So…we're…we're on the same page then…right?" Her eyes flickered downwards twice before she was able to lock them with his.
He'd already followed her gaze those two times. "Yes."
He grabbed the sides of her face and kissed her.
Aitana's eyes fell shut and very quickly fell into the kiss. She moved with him at an exceptional speed — she may or may not have imagined what this moment would be like so she was naturally excited to live it out. She brought her arms around his neck and seamlessly fit her body with his.
Spencer would have no problem saying how much he disliked people touching him in any way. He would absolutely despise anyone pressing their body against his…but there wasn't any hint of that feeling right now. There was no scientific explanation except for the simple fact that he just liked — no, he wanted Aitana. However blunt it could sound, it was the truth.
They parted a minute later, with plump lips and flushed faces.
Aitana chuckled. "Maybelline owes me $12."
"What?" Spencer knew he was horrible with words and women, the usual, but he was really lost right now.
"My lipstick — it's all over your lips right now. It was supposed to be long lasting but, um…" Aitana scrunched her nose, "Can I?" She raised a thumb.
Spencer smiled at her. Yes, he absolutely wanted her. "Yeah…"
Aitana gently rubbed her thumb on his lips, an act that brought a more fierce flush on her face. "Are you okay?" She asked, knowing exactly how he felt about touch.
Spencer watched her like he was in a trance. "Aitana, right now, I am perfect."
A mood board for my Criminal Minds OFC, Athena Winslow
「 ✦ Info ✦ 」
Full Name: Athena Karida Winslow
Nickname(s): Girly and Badass
Age: 30 years old
IQ: 183
Gender: Female
Pronouns: She/her/hers
Close Friends: Penelope Garcia and Jennifer Jareau (JJ)
Backstory: Named after the Greek Goddess Athena, she's a fighter in her own right. One day, at a very young age, she was diagnosed with Colon Cancer and immediately started chemotherapy. While she is healthy for now, she does have to go and get regular checkups to make sure she is still cancer-free. Currently works for the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico, Virginia. Owns her home, and is quite adventurous and pushes Spencer Reid out of his comfort zone sometimes (like teaching him any of the things he ever missed out on growing up)
(Face claim to Kate Beckett from Castle, mood board made by me, but pictures are from Pinterest)
part two of my “hotch is good at everything” hc. penelope’s a little jealous, but it’s outweighed (and outnumbered) by the team’s bewilderment. i tried actually writing fucking dialogue since i realized i hadn’t done that yet, so it was kind of a last minute addition. anyway. pretend this isn’t a day late
Hotch was a good baker.
Not a lot of people would’ve guessed that about him, but if you thought about it a little bit, it’s really not that much of a surprise.
It’s meticulous. Precise. Everything is about following every rule to the letter. It requires patience.
It’s right up Hotch’s alley.
Penelope was the one known for bringing tasty treats to the BAU. She enjoyed cooking for others; she would recipe test weekly, and whatever passed inspection would get mass produced and left on the break table or communal fridge. It was an irregular, but common, tradition.
Common enough that no one questioned it when a platter piled with cookies showed up one day in the kitchenette. Or the next week when a dozen pounds of fudge appeared on the counter. Or the following week when there were stacks of tupperware filled with cupcakes.
Penelope was a little confused when a passing agent would compliment her on her latest creation, but quickly brushed it aside. It wasn’t until the third week of undue praise that she asked Derek if he knew what they were talking about.
She didn’t leave the batcave often—especially when the others were out on a case—and even when she did she was either in the round table room or hovering around her friends’ desks. She rarely had reason to be in the break area, other than the times she dropped off food.
So it came as a bit of a shock to them all when she admitted she hadn’t brought anything recently. Curious, with nothing better to do and a laughable social life, they decided to attempt to ferret out the resident baker.
It took a few days of arriving hours early and staking out the breakroom (they had duos on a daily rotation: Penelope and Derek were today’s) until they finally saw Hotch walk in with a tin of brownies.
They thought they were delirious at first. The others definitely did when they broke the news. They sat on their desks in a circle, uncharacteristically silent, lost in thought as they imagined Aaron Hotchner baking. It was painfully domestic; certainly not unreasonable—they knew he had a family, after all—but such a stark contrast to their mental image of their powerful leader. It took nearly an hour for each of them to shake off their stupor and they resumed the huddle to determine their next move.
The confrontation was as boisterous as expected: not by Hotch, mind you, but by the gaggle of excitable agents tripping over each other to get into his office like crabs trying to get out of a bucket. The small room was suddenly very crowded.
“…Can I help you?” Hotch asked warily, raising an eyebrow as the commotion settled.
For once they were quiet, eyeing each other waiting for someone else to say something first. JJ was ultimately the one to muster the courage and blurt out, “Do you bake?”
It was more of an accusation than a question, and Hotch’s face remained impassive, though he felt a hint of a tug on his lips. So that’s what this was about. “Yes.”
They all knew better than to expect him to elaborate on his own. Emily shouldered her way through Reid and Morgan to stand in front. “And you’ve been bringing stuff here? To the BAU?”
Another question that wasn’t a question. Hotch simply nodded.
Penelope huffed, growing a little impatient and admittedly a little peeved that someone else—their unit chief, no less—had been providing food for the rest of the team. Good food. She’d always been better at cooking than baking, and it was a little embarrassing to be outdone by someone she forgot even ate food. “Any particular reason?” Morgan asked, smartly phrasing it in a way that would garner an actual response.
Hotch shrugged noncommittally, acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary. If they squinted hard enough, it almost seemed like he was smug. The nerve. “Jack’s been wanting to bake more often. He’s trying to figure out what to bring for the class party. It’s too much for just the two of us.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” He could hear Emily smile more than he could see it, which should’ve been enough of an answer in itself. He knew he would be teased no matter what he said, and he wasn’t interested in encouraging them. He remained silent.
Reid, practically married to the coffee machine therefore in the break room constantly, ran through his recollections of food available in recent months. “Did you bring the sugar cookies last June?”
Hotch nodded curtly, growing tired of questions they knew the answers to. If it was possible for five people to collectively wince, they would have. They knew they would wear down his patience eventually. They probably had about a handful of questions left before he sent them away.
“How long have you been baking?”
He stared at the ceiling for a moment, silently counting. “About 25 years.”
“Oh shit,” Emily hissed quietly, earning an elbow in the gut from JJ. Though none of them could really fault her for voicing their surprise.
The interrogation continued. “Have you brought food before?”
“Yes.”
“How long have you been bringing food?”
Hotch jutted his chin towards Rossi’s office. “More in the early days. Didn’t have much time when I was adjusting to the unit chief workload. But I still do every once and a while.”
Reid was making a mental note of all the times there had been baked goods waiting in the breakroom. He locked eyes with Penelope and they silently agreed to go over the list later to check what she had/hadn’t brought and figure out what exactly their esteemed leader fed them.
“What else can you make?”
Another shrug, but this one was laced with barely perceivable exasperation. Their time was running out.
An energy sizzled in the air as they all feverishly whittled down their curiosities, trying to decide what to prioritize. It was only a handful of seconds, but with their minds were working overdrive, it might as well have been hours.
Morgan ultimately made the final request. “Will you make something for us?”
A pause. The other silently approved the question, but they feared all they’d receive in return would be a blank glare. But it was worth a shot. It opened the door for future discussions, which they knew wouldn’t go unnoticed by the senior profiler.
The next few seconds were excruciating before he finally replied. “What would you like?”
If the room was buzzing before, it was positively electric now. They turned to each other and whispered in a hushed deliberation. They hadn’t really considered the possibility that they would have options. Seemingly endless options if his vague responses were anything to go by—a known indicator of Hotch’s humility. He was likely more skilled than they previously thought. It was impossible to decide.
“Can we ask later?” They were all wide eyed, brimming with hope and practically pouting. It wasn’t dissimilar to Jack’s kindergarten class.
Hotch hummed and waved them off with one hand as he returned to the paperwork on his desk, taking care not to smile until the door closed behind them.
Hi, I just binge read your writing and it's so cute I just can't get this idea of out my head but what if the reader (any pronouns) starts carrying around a notebook to jot down things they find interesting when Spencer goes on his rambles. And no one really notices what they're noting down until Spencer finds the book on the plane because they forgot it
a/n (to anon): hi, ty!! oh i just love when spencer’s partner appreciates & encourages his rambles because he doesn’t really get that with the team. our boy deserves passion! i’m going to turn this into a little something if that’s ok! :)
spencer reid, to everyone who knows him, is complicated. he doesn’t disagree, but he’s sometimes confused as to why the people closest to him don’t see right through him. they may not think about it often, but the side glances and the subtle comments are telling. he loves his friends, he values them but he’s been through a lot. years worth of trauma manifesting in anger and anxiety and his friends chalk it up to complicated.
he doesn’t think anyone truly understands him.
he doesn’t think anyone has ever tried to.
but while he sits and wonders about just how alone he might be, you’re sitting and wondering what you did to deserve him in your life.
because to you, spencer reid is the most beautifully complicated man you have ever known.
you never knew watching someone stir their coffee (with an insane amount of sugar) in a mug with a label reading their name could be so intriguing.
or that the squeaky sound of converse on the sixth level floor could make you feel so safe.
it’s like every little thing that doesn’t mean anything means everything because it’s him.
you’re fairly certain he doesn’t know this, but when his voice picks up from his information bursts, when he starts speaking faster and his eyes light up with something you can only describe as passion you can’t help but feel like it’s your favorite thing in the world. like you’d sit there and listen to him intently for the rest of your life if that’s what would make him happy.
you can’t deny the inevitable crush for him that snuck up on you until it slammed into you full force. now you’re not sure if anyone else could ever make you feel the way he does.
the smiles for no reason, the soft and comforting touches somehow exactly when you need them, the thoughtfulness and the all around pleasantness of his company is something you wouldn’t trade for the world, and something you don’t think you’ll ever be able to give enough of back.
that might be the reason why you’re huddled in the corner of the jet, pen and notebook in hand with “things spencer told me that i want to remember” written at the top of the open page. and it might be the reason why “and things i can learn about to impress him” is written underneath it. it might be why you’re staring at him with a look of pure adoration in your eyes as he talks to your friends and tells them all about something new.
but the week full of nonstop work with no sleep could also be the reason for the last one, as well as your near delirious state as you feel yourself drifting off.
your eyes close just as spencer glances at you, a smile appearing on his face with how peaceful you look. he stands and walks towards you with the blanket that was in his lap to give to you. as he’s covering you with his blanket he can’t help but think about how right it would feel to do this every day. to have you with him every day.
he’s looking at you and he remembers how lucky he is to have you in his life. he doesn’t think you’ll ever know just how much a smile from you means on a bad day. or how much he appreciates you asking if he wants to talk, even though he never does. he knows you’re probably just being nice, but something in him really hopes you feel something a little more. his heart stars to swell at the thought but he remembers why he doesn’t let himself think like this, because it would be damning himself to hope that you would ever look twice at him.
a voice in the background tells him they’re landing soon, so he takes his seat and wonders what you’re dreaming about, selfishly wishing it’s him.
by the time you open your eyes you’re back in virginia, having slept through the rest of the flight. you rub your eyes and yawn, ready to go home and get a real night’s sleep for the first time in a week. you stand and grab your go bag to leave the jet, forgetting your notebook and pen in the seat.
from not paying attention and your sight still a little blurry from sleep you bump into someone, big hands grabbing your shoulders so you don’t fall.
you look up and it’s spencer, still trying to gracefully regain his balance and not succeeding.
when he gets control of his feet he pushes his hair back and smiles. that smile. the one that makes everything better and felt so real in a distant dream.
“did you get some good sleep?”
he asks you, putting the book he was reading away and his satchel over his shoulder.
“not good enough.” you say with a rough voice as you’re still half asleep.
he giggles a bit in the way that he does, the way that you’ve committed to memory to replay when you’re missing him.
you wish you could stay here with him forever, but you know you need to rest and you’ll see him soon.
“night, spence.” you smile softly at him as you head out the door.
“goodnight, y/n.” he responds with his little wave and something bright in his eyes you probably won’t remember tomorrow.
he moves to follow you out the jet when he notices something you left behind. he turns to see if you’re still there, but when he knows he’s the only one left on the jet he goes to retrieve it for you.
he picks up the notebook and begins to put it away, but your handwriting on the top of the open page catches his eye.
“things spencer told me that i want to remember”
he’s not sure if he’s reading it right, if he actually sees his name on the page. if the one he would move the moon and stars for really cares enough about him to not only listen to him but care about what he’s saying. he wasn’t sure anyone did.
“and things i can learn about to impress him”
oh, that does him in. he feels tears behind his eyes but they’re pushed back at thoughts of you thinking you would ever have to do anything but be yourself for him to love you. to want you. to need you.
he knows he wants to ask you about it, but he doesn’t think he should.
he figures some things are better left unsaid.
still, he begins to think of all the things he’s ever wanted to say to you.
Many people imagine their dream person or think of the person they want to date or marry from a young age. Y/N remembered going to sleepovers and her friends talking about how they wanted a boyfriend with blue eyes and blonde hair or brown hair and brown eyes. But when Y/N's turn came around she always said the same thing "I don't care what they look like as long as they are the right person for me." And that's when the game would end. Because twelve year olds could not fathom that everyone had their person and at some point they'd meet and everything would work out. Her mindset was set as growing up her mom would always tell her the same story. When I met your dad I just knew she'd say.
Spencer was the same way. Always being busy with work he didn't have time to go out on dates and spend time with people. He just hoped that one day the right person would come. I mean after what happened with Maeve who he strongly believed was his soulmate he didn't really see a point in trying to move on. He always said it was too soon.
Too soon. Two words that circled both of their brains. Too soon to date. Too soon to go out and put themselves out there. Why put yourself out there when you could stay locked up in your house where you were comfortable.
Spencer's head buried in cases and files while Y/N had her head buried in the latest book. They weren't that different to begin with. Maybe some person out in the universe made it this way. Hoping that one day two people who have had their heart broken and taped so many times would bump into each other.
The day would finally come. Well not exactly the day that they magically fell in love. But the day that they were in the same spot at the same time.
?Y/N had a tradition. Coffee every single Monday because well to be honest Mondays sucked. You know those people that take their sugar with coffee. Yeah Y/N was one of them.
Spencer had decided to stop by the coffee shop a few minutes away from his apartment. Deciding that a small detour would be nice. I mean a different type of coffee would be nice even though of course his coffee taste was more sugar than coffee.
~~~~
"Thomas please just a bit more sugar, you know that's not enough." Y/N asked the barista who slowly had become her friend to kindly add more sugar to her coffee.
"Y/N this is a disgrace how do you call this coffee." The barista said as he added more and more sugar until a small mountain piled up on the top.
"And that is why I love you Thomas." She said as she grabbed the coffee and headed toward the exit.
Spencer had heard the altercation as he waited in line for his coffee and chuckled. Wow if he could meet this person he knew they would for sure get along.
~~~~
Spencer and the BAU had been working on a case. It was a tough one to crack. Only a few minutes away from Quantico but with little to no clues they knew it would be a hair puller.
They had one neighbor as a witness and some history about the victims. Other than that they had zilche as Garcia would say.
Alex decided to go talk to the witness as Spencer worked on the geographical profile and the others went through looking for overlaps in the other victims.
As soon as Blake walked up to the door a person no older than Spencer opened the door.
As she guided Blake to the couch, careful to pick up the scattered books all around her living room, embarrassed to have someone from the FBI see her living room like this.
"You have a vast collection of books here." Blake said attempting to make conversations before getting to the point.
"Yeah I love reading." Y/N spoke up.
"I'm quite the reader myself." As Blake looked at the small living room she couldn't help but notice the similarities between the girl in the kitchen and Spencer. Scratch that. You were so similar to Spencer that it was like an exact replica.
~~~
Y/N did not expect to be spending her Wednesday afternoon with someone from the FBI but since her next door neighbor had been murdered she was now a part of it.
"Can you tell me what you saw." The agent sat in front of her.
"Well Mrs. Smith always is asleep by eight so i found it kind of odd that her lights were on after midnight. I was getting ready to open my door and check on her when I heard a thump. Then I looked through my peep hole and saw a man run across. He had a mask on. But he dropped it. I got a paper towel and placed it on my counter before calling the police."
"Wow that helps us more than you know." Alex was quite impressed by how much information the witness was actually able to provide.
"Yeah well anything to help find who did this." Y/N smiled at the agent.
"Well we'll call you if we need anything more, thank you for all your help."
~~~~
After arriving back at the station and giving an update on what she learned Alex suggested that Spencer go talk to the witness.
"I think he can maybe find out more since they are closer in age."
"Well that doesn't sound like a bad idea." Rossi spoke up.
Spencer not really having a problem with it headed over to your place. As he knocked he heard a familiar voice respond. He wasn't sure where but he knew that he knew you from somewhere.
"Hi uhm i'm Spencer Reid im with the FBI."
"Oh hi uhm you're partner was just here, did you guys learn something new?"
"Oh no just another check up."
"Oh ok, come in. I was just making coffee, would you like some?" Y/N looked at the attractive agent in front of her.
"Yeah coffee is good."
As soon as Spencer walked in he saw the extensive book collection in the corner. Ranging from romance to mystery to autobiographies.
"Favorite book?" Y/N asked as she poured the coffee eyeing the boy that was taking such an interest in her book collection.
"Oh i'm not sure I can pick. I mean there are so many genres." Spencer smiled feeling comfortable with the conversation.
"I agree with you." Y/N said as she poured sugar into her coffee.
As she poured the sugar it's like something clicked in Spencer's mind. Her voice, the coffee smell, the unhealthy amounts of sugar. The girl from the coffee shop. The one he so wanted to have a conversation with.
He grabbed the sugar and as Y/N saw him pour it she smiled. Everyone she knew always said the amount she poured was ridiculous but here stood a boy in front of her who did the same thing as her. And as Spencer took a sip of his coffee he knew that he could finally have that conversation he so much wanted. And as he did he felt much happier then he had in the last few months.
Summary: soulmate!au where your soulmate will appear to you in a time of need. Spencer’s gone 20 years without meeting his; so has y/n. What will happen when fate finally connects them together?
Warnings: angst if you squint, nothing else really
Word count: 2.2k
a/n: this might become a series if people like it enough!! we’ll see ;)
Spencer knows there’s a chance he’ll never meet his soulmate. He knows the statistics, he’s done the research. Yet, he always feels a little bit better at the thought that someone was made just for him, someone who’ll stay with him through it all.
Of course, he assumed he would have found his soulmate much earlier in life. Most people found theirs when they were as young as 16, though always in the same fashion. Spencer was turning 22, 6 years older than the average age of finding your one true love.
Your soulmate would come to you in a time when you need them the most; when your soul calls out to its other half in a cry for help.
Every time Spencer broke down or cried, whether it be over a case at work, his mother’s condition, or quite literally anything else, he prayed that his soulmate would magically appear in front of him. Alas, the cards simply haven’t been in his favor.
Unknown to Reid, about 20 minutes away, you were in the exact same predicament. All of your life, you had waited to find your soulmate. When your parents passed in your high school years, there was a small part of you that was hoping you would find your soulmate right then and there. That... didn’t exactly work out.
You had moved in with your aunt and uncle in a different city and had turned into the epitome of a rebellious child. You wore clothes your modest family would have a heart attack upon seeing, listened to music the church choir you were a part of would scoff at. However, if there was one thing you were good at, it was school.
You didn’t have a ton of money growing up, so you worked harder than anyone you knew to get scholarships to college. You juggled a full time job at your local coffee shop while still in school to get your engineering degree, and boy was it tiring.
“Excuse me lady? I’ve been waiting for 10 fucking minutes. What have I got to do to get a coffee already?” A man with a thick (Boston?) accent leered at you. You groaned internally, proceeding to plaster a much too bright smile on your face in an attempt to hide your obvious disdain for him.
“So sorry sir! Your cold brew will be coming right up,” you exclaimed cheerily, though you felt anything but. Turning away from him, you let your hands fly over the coffee machine to make a drink you’ve made a thousand times over. Your mind starts to wander as you brew the espresso. Did you even have a soulmate? What if they hate you? What if they’re dead? What if-
Your thoughts were cut short as the espresso machine beeps, jolting you back to reality. You quickly finish off the cup, gratefully sliding it across the bar to the rude man waiting close by. You turned around and caught your coworker’s bemused expression; you were too tired to complain.
-
Spencer frowned as he gazed at the crime scene photos. What wasn’t clicking?
He was shaken out of his thoughts by the sound of Emily’s heels clacking on the linoleum floor. He turned with his chin resting on his hand to see her wearing a pitying look on her face. In one hand, she held a cup of coffee.
He reached out, pointing to the styrofoam cup. “Is that for me?” Spencer asked, secretly hoping it wasn’t so he could get some rest.
Thankfully, Emily shook her head. “No, Reid.” She sighed, looking back up at him sadly. “Listen, I know you really want to solve this case. Don’t get me wrong, we all do. But you’ve been awake for what? 30 hours straight? You might be a genius but even Einstein needed rest,” she finished. Before Reid could protest, she lifted a hand. “Go back to your hotel room and sleep. That’s a direct order from Hotch.”
Spencer frowned unhappily at the brunette in front of him, but he knew when the conversation was over. Grabbing some files he was fully planning to mull over on the comfort of his stiff hotel mattress, he brushed past Emily and headed towards his car.
-
After a long shift, you groaned as you pushed open the door to your tiny apartment. Immediately, you stripped off your clothes and headed straight for the shower in an attempt to scrub off the now nauseating scent of coffee.
Emerging 20 minutes later with bright red and freshly exfoliated skin, you felt like you were about to collapse at any second. You were asleep before your head hit the pillow.
-
Reid sat on the bed, papers and crime scene photos splayed out in front of him. The heels of his hands dug into his eyes as he tried to prevent tears from running down his unshaven cheeks.
-
You wake with a start, sweating slightly. Looking around, you frown. This isn’t your hotel room, you think to yourself, confused. You gasped when you noticed a man sitting on the bed, looking like he hadn’t slept in months. His clothes were misshapen, hair messy and clearly not brushed. He was boyishly handsome, you decided with a satisfied nod.
The gasp you let out caused him to look up; you both realized what was happening at the same moment.
“You’re my soulmate,” Spencer breathed out, at the same time you muttered “Oh my fucking god.”
For a few more moments, both stared at each other, unsure how to act and what to do.
Reid made the first move, awkwardly scooting over slightly and clearing his throat, patting the now empty space next to him.
You quietly shuffled over, perching politely on the edge of the bed.
“So um... where are you right now?” You offered, genuinely curious as to why he was in a hotel room in seemingly the middle of nowhere.
Spencer laughed. “I uh- I guess it’s a long story,” his voice trailed off slightly as he noticed the look you gave him, the one that said Really?. “I guess that was a stupid thing to say,” he mumbled.
You laughed, hitting his arm gently. “Don’t worry about it. For now, we have all the time in the world.”
And so the night progressed; Reid told you all about working at the BAU and you told him all about, well, working at a coffee shop. You quickly found out Spencer was a literal genius, and you, completely serious of course, asked if he would do all your homework for you. (Spoiler alert: he said no because it “goes against his morals”. What does that even mean???)
You could feel yourself fading as Spencer got happier and happier. You both seemed to realize you didn’t have much time left. You grabbed his hand, staring deep into his eyes. You could feel yourself leaning in, Reid too-
“Wait!” You exclaimed, and the two of you jumped apart. “What’s your name?” You asked breathlessly.
“Oh!” He replied, seemingly surprised that you two had never exchanged names. What he didn’t know, however, was that you were slipping away from him much faster than either of you could have realized. “It’s Sp-“
And just like that, you were gone. You woke up in your own bed to find it was morning, sunlight streaming through your windows. Racking your brain, you tried to remember what he said his name was. Unfortunately, all you could remember was the short 2 letters you heard before you vanished. He hadn’t even gotten your name! How was he supposed to find you now?
-
Across the country, Spencer woke up with his head pounding. Bleary eyed, he tried to make sense of what just happened. He met his soulmate, then lost her just as fast. He didn’t even get her name!, Reid kicked himself.
-
The next few days for the both of you seemed like hell. You found out it was practically impossible to find records of government employees, especially from divisions like the BAU. You grew increasingly frustrated while scouring through database after database.
Spencer had immediately called Garcia, but made her swear to keep it a secret. He attempted to give her an idea of what you looked like, only to hear the disappointed sound of Penelope’s voice letting him know that she had a list of about 10,000 people who fit the description. Of course, knowing Penelope, no secret ever stayed a secret for long. No more than a few hours later he was met with a chorus of congratulations from his fellow colleagues, including Morgan’s “I knew you had it in you!”, which was met with a sad frown as Spencer explained the unlucky situation.
Unfortunately, nothing much happened after that. You gave up your search on this mystery man, he did the same. Every day, however, you both woke up and hoped today would be that one special day where they found each other again. Every day, they were met with another heart wrenching disappointment, until one fateful afternoon.
Your back ached as you scrubbed down the counter for what felt like the thousandth time that day. It had been a few years since what you liked to call “the incident”, and you liked to keep it out of your head at this point. You were now in grad school, in a different city. You still worked at a coffee shop, though this one was much more busy and frankly much more stressful.
You stretched slightly, pulling your arms up in the air as you readjusted your torso. You turned when you heard your coworker call your name; he was going to take a break. You nodded at him, letting him know you would take over for him.
There was a lull in the customers in the shop, which made sense considering it was 2:00 on a Tuesday afternoon.
You decided to make the most of the break and started to clean the espresso machine in front of you. As you grabbed a dish cloth from the sink, you heard bells in the doorway tinkle slightly as the door was pushed open.
You looked up with your customer service grin automatically painted on, ready to greet the customer. The welcome died on your lips, however, as you realized who it was. It was him.
Your eyes widened in horror as you realized something else; he was kissing a girl who was definitely not you.
You forced yourself to walk over to the cash register, clearing your throat to break the intense lip-locking session apart. A faint look of annoyance crossed Spencer’s face as he looked up at who interrupted them.
His first reaction was exactly what you thought it would be. He froze slightly, then slowly walked up to the register with what looked like a death grip on his (girlfriend’s?) hand.
Though it was the girl who spoke, you found your attention kept flitting to the man next to her. You couldn’t tell if she was oblivious, or just didn’t care.
He had... changed to say the least. Stubble covered the bottom portion of his face, and his hair had grown out. His cheekbones looked more defined, and he walked with an aura of confidence that he didn’t have before. Still, you had to admit he looked very handsome.
You were shaken out of your stupor when you felt the gaze of the girl. She looked at you with, was that impatience? You asked for her payment and her name, Stacy, noting it down on both cups before you took her credit card.
You hurried around behind the bar in an attempt to give them the drinks as quickly as possible and get them to leave. How were you supposed to talk to him now? He literally has a girlfriend!
You finished making the two coffees and set them on the counter, calling out her name to let her know the drinks were ready.
“One nitro cold brew for you, and one iced vanilla latte for him,” you handed over the drinks directly to each of them, making a point to shift Spencer’s drink slightly, causing him to look down. He caught your drift as he noticed a little extra writing underneath Stacy’s name.
His girlfriend grabbed his hand, throwing a quick and insincere “thank you!” over her shoulder at you as they left the store. You slumped against the sink, grabbing the countertop with your hands. What in Gods’ green Earth was this?
-
Outside, Spencer finally got the chance to look at the cup. He smiled as he read what you had scribbled on there.
Underneath your phone number, you had written, “It’s a really long story but I hope you have the time. Let’s talk soon?”
-
It was nearing 9 pm when you were starting to lose all hope. What if you made a mistake, and that wasn’t actually your soulmate? You shoved a pillow over your face with irritation and groaned, collapsing onto the sofa next to your phone. As you lay in silence, you heard a noise. Your phone was vibrating.
Sitting up quickly, you picked up the phone.
“Hello?” You asked breathlessly.
A familiar amused chuckle rang on the other end of the line.
