Fancy Meeting You Here
A Criminal Minds Fan-fiction
Featuring: Dr. Spencer Reid, Elle Greenaway
2019 CM Bingo Square: Season 1
Requested by @illegalcerebral (about 6 months ago?)
A/N: Nothing you couldn’t find on the show, after hours! xoxo Stu
The bar was dark, though the after work crowds had thinned leaving the aisles more manageable. He still felt out of place, without a trivia night or a gaggle of agents around him to reaffirm his presence and purpose. He tugged at the strap of his bag, Dr. Spencer Reid never left home without it. It wasn’t even his go bag, it was just his satchel, but the weight of it kept him tethered in moments like this.
He knew the routine, act casual, wait at a booth in the back, try not to draw a lot of attention to himself. Even over six feet he was able to draw in on himself, to hide in plain sight, unfortunately it was years of practice and not the stealth of physical training that allowed the spindly man to weave among the bar-goers.
He ordered a club soda and began to people watch, which was a sort of profiler’s default in a crowd.
Elle didn’t know what to do with all of these notes that had been buzzing around her head since the train and the heat. The tenuous standoff that had very little to do with her job, but which had put her in the line of danger regardless. There was relief, but also a tarnished kind of guilt at the disgust she felt at her fellow passengers. Those who wouldn’t or couldn’t listen to reason. She couldn’t sit still, between the car ride out of the Texas sun and the jet ride to Virginia, sitting was all she had been granted.
She grabbed her keys and cell before heading for the door. She had never been to the bar before, but three minutes in and it was like every other establishment on this side of town. Cheap, for their surroundings, but still more than she needed to spend. Oddly spacious with a subtle vibe of old ashtrays and costume jewelry. A place her mothers’ friends would probably have gone, once upon a time. Before some creep had made her a widow at least.
She wasn’t going to think about her dad, she was her to stop thinking. After a couple sidelong glances from a guy down the bar, she ordered another shot. This had been a failed escape, but at least she wasn’t locked in her apartment alone for an hour. As she walked back to her car, letting the damp air clear her head, she dialed her phone and hung up. No, there was really only one safe choice to call tonight and she would understand if he didn’t pick up.
