Spencer sat upright as he once again heard the opening notes of the same piano ballad he had heard three other times this week. The melody just barely echoed through the room, passing through the thin walls like a ghost.
When it started it was three forty eight on a Tuesday morning - the Virginia sun still sat deeply below the horizon and the chill of February was keeping Spencer awake. The song was just loud enough that only someone who was already awake would be able to listen, a secret ode to insomniacs. Spencer attentively listened, shifting to the edge of his bed and straining to hear. On particular nights, such as this one, he would be compelled to crawl out of the warmth of his bed to sit with his back against the door of his apartment, just to be close to the sound.
Some nights he just took in the music, most nights however, he was curious. Spencer Reid was incapable of leaving a mystery unsolved - and thus he took on the case of the mystery lullaby.
It was times like this that he wished he knew his neighbours better - or knew them at all for that matter. His ‘unsub’ surely wasn't the old man who sometimes received his mail, nor was it likely that the chronically hungover group of college boys who only seemed to play rap music were the ones spending their nights playing classical piano.
So he sat, for the fifth time this month, desperately trying to internalize the sound. He so badly wanted to know what the piece was, maybe if he knew it would help him figure out who was behind the playing.
The song ended at three fifty four - cutting itself two minutes short. Spencer began to fear something had happened, why would the song just stop? Should he go investigate? No - he shook the thought. That was a ridiculous notion, it was an ungodly hour - making it entirely probable that the player of said song had just tired of sitting up and wondered back to their bed. With no hope of accomplishing anything by doing the same himself, he got up to go put on a pot of coffee. Spencer’s socked feet padded across the hardwood, the only sounds left echoing in the apartment were his footsteps and the never ceasing hum of traffic on the street that lay under his window.
A long few hours later Spencer found himself sitting cross legged in his desk chair hunched over a stack of files. He was mildly grateful for the numbing paperwork, not sure if his tired mind was up to trying to track down a serial killer today no matter how much coffee he fed it. Not that he was getting much paperwork done anyway, though. He just couldn’t stop replaying the melody in his head.
He was so preoccupied he didn’t even notice Derek and JJ make their way over to his desk, holding a breakfast sandwich out to him.
“Food, Spence” JJ mused when he hesitated to take it, “That big brain of yours needs it.”
Spencer obliged, taking a gratuitous bite. He hadn’t realized just how hungry he was until he started eating, the whole sandwich was gone in a mere minute or two. He stopped and pondered for a moment, egg still in mouth; he pondered what could draw him so strongly to a person he had never even seen before. He had felt this with Maeve of course, but that was very different. Music can’t replace a conversation, can it?
He decided to ask the only person he knew that was good at this feelings stuff.
“Garcia?” He said tentatively, stepping through the threshold of the batcave door. “Can I talk to you?”
“Of course my sweet baby angel, what can I do for you?”
She could see the hesitation in his eyes. Motioning for him to sit, she put down her lunch and turned her attention towards him fully.
“So this is really strange, and I know it's strange,but I just can’t get it out of my head. There's this piano that plays in my apartment - always late at night, always the same song. It’s driving me crazy. I just want to know who it is, what it is. It's classic for sure, maybe beethoven based on the composition style alone but that isn’t always a definite-”
“Spencer.” Penelope mused, stopping his already derailing train of thought. “Someone is playing piano, and you want to know what it is. What’s the most efficient way to do that?”
Spencer looked up, blinking softly.
Penelope giggled. “You ask.”
“But Penelope I don’t think you really understand, plus what if-” Spencers head was already full of a million hypotheticals.
“No.” He was cut off again. “Go ask.”
~
Three thirty eight AM came faster than it should’ve. A stack of several different books sat discarded upon Spencer's bedside table, all flimsy attempts to distract his buzzing mind. When it started, earlier than it had been many times before, Spencer felt his whole body tense. Was he really about to go knock on some stranger's door? At this hour?
His feet, clad in rubber bottomed slippers, found their way to the door before his mind had time to stop them. He slipped a key in his pocket, turning the latch ever so gently behind him. When he stepped into the hallway it felt infinite. He walked on tiptoe for what seemed like hours, but was really closer to seconds.
The mossy green door stood like a barricade, Spencer's own pulse drowned out any semblance of melody that he could’ve heard before. He raised his hand to knock, it stood surprisingly still in the air, and left three short raps.
The sudden silence was deafening. The crescendo of the melody could never reach its climax, as the pianist was now taking quick, small steps in Spencer's own direction.
In that moment he willed himself to turn around and run off, to let the person on the other side of the door believe they imagined the knocking. Let himself believe he was hearing things, a reminder to call his doctor and his mother.
But alas the chain slid across and let the door fall open, behind it revealing the most beautiful person Spencer had ever seen, which certainly did not ease his anxiety.
“I’m so sorry! Did I wake you? I thought nobody could hear me.” The stranger seemed as anxious as Spencer, but seeing them like this gave him some sort of false security.
“What song is that?” His voice cracked as he spoke, tender from hours of rest.
“It’s-” They faltered, “It’s beethoven. A romance piece.”
It was quiet again, the very thing the music had been used to prevent. They stood like teenagers who were waiting to be scolded. Silently anxious, regretful of their individual curiosities.
The pianist spoke first again.
“I can stop. I really didn’t mean-”
“No. I- uh, I quite like it.”
A soft smile replaced each of their worried faces for a second.
“Do you want to come in? For a cup of tea perhaps? I could use the company.”
Spencer smiled again. He felt a warmth from this stranger that he hadn’t felt in a long time, maybe since Maeve's death.
if you were an unsub you would only be killing because you had an obsession with one the team members. (morgan) think cat storyline ish. you would refuse to talk to anyone but derek, constantly taunt the team by sending presents and stuff to the bau but you wouldn’t be caught for a good year. you would almost drive derek to quit his job but hotch and the team would double down and finally catch you
the one where the team watches you and Spence fall in love
masterlist
David Rossi was a tired, tired man. All he wanted after a long week was to go home to sit in his favourite recliner and light a cigar, and the only thing preventing that currently was the fact that he had left his cell phone in his office. He let out a sigh as he made his way up the steps, and as he approached the office he saw something peculiar; the door was slightly ajar. David Rossi never left doors ajar, definitely not his own office door and certainly not when he was going home for a weekend. His hand tentatively reached towards his holstered weapon - a precaution that was ingrained in his behavioral patterns from years of dangerous work.
When he flicked on the light and pushed open the door, he let out a small chuckle. The disturbance in his space wasn’t some radical criminal, but a softly breathing FBI agent snuggled up on his couch.
Y/n had always been Rossi’s favourite, and it was no secret to anyone that she could do no wrong in his eyes. She was the baby of the BAU, and had been taken on as the old mans protege since she was fresh out of the academy. She still looked much like she had back then, Rossi mused to himself. All doe eyed and white knuckled, a determination to save the world brewing inside her.
He was roused from his thoughts when she stirred awake, sitting up and wiping under her eyes gently.
“What time is it? Spencer promised he’d wake me up when he left!” She whined, voice breaking with sleep.
“Bella, relax. It’s only 8:30. Why are you waiting for Spencer? And, more importantly, why are you in here?”
She laughed nervously, already anticipating Rossi’s coming reaction;
“My car broke down again last week and I haven’t brought it in yet, so I’ve been riding in with Spence, and he wanted to finish his paperwork from this case before we left.”
“Your car again?” His tone matched that of a scolding parent, “You do know you’re on a government salary now Y/n - why won;t you let me take you to go get a new one. You of all people know how dangerous it is for a young woman to be stranded by an unreliable car.”
She laughed and rolled her eyes playfully.
“You sound like my dad. Spencer is reliable, I’m fine, honestly.”
He shook his head once more as she got up and bounded into the bullpen, presumably to go collect Spencer.
He watched them get into the elevator, seeing Y/n playfully run her hand through the boys hair. Right before the door closed he could see Spencer taking Y/n’s bags from her. This made him chuckle.
‘To be young and in love again.’ he thought, wistfully recalling how their banter had gone from friendly to flirty, how the shy smiles had turned into enthusiastic laughter. It reminded him of a simpler time in his life, a time where he could slip into love with the ease that one slips on a cardigan. The young pair was becoming a couple right before his eyes, and he was happy for them.
~
Penelope’s heels clicked softly as she walked down the hallway, three ceramic coffee mugs balanced delicately in her hands. She entered the breakroom to Morgan and Rossi staring quizzically out into the bullpen.
“What are you two up to?” She laughed.
“Spencer and Y/n are late.” Morgan stated simply.
“Spencer is never late!”
“I know babygirl - that’s why we’re taking bets on what Y/n’s excuse will be - Rossi says she’ll blame the cat, but I think she’ll go for something more classic, like-” Morgan pitched up his voice, mocking Y/n’s exasperated tone:
“‘It’s not my fault Reid drives like a GRANDMA!’”
The trio laughed amongst themselves, making small jokes back and forth until the famed couple burst through the doors. Spencer’s face was flushed with embarrassment as he slunk into his seat around the table, but Y/n couldn’t contain her giggles.
“I’m not going to drive you anymore if you’re going to make me late.” He pouted.
“Yes you are. You’ll do it because I’m your favourite” She quipped back.
Penelope, Derek, and Rossi shared a knowing glance, and Emily - who had made her way in just before Y/n and Spencer - took a long sip of her coffee to hide her own knowing smile.
~
The case was in southern California, which meant a five hour flight. There was only so much conjecture and review the team could do while on the plane, and most of their conversation topics had been eaten away by hour four. Y/n sat cross legged in the seat across from Derek, reading aloud used car listings for him to approve.
“Okay, so this one says ‘well loved, nice condition’ and-”
“No.” Derek interrupted, “That means it's a piece of junk.”
They both laughed and sat in silence for a moment while Y/n scrolled to find another ad.
“You know,” Derek mused, cocking an eyebrow at her, “I live closer to you than Spencer does. I could always pick you up sometimes. I could also fix the brakes in your car - all it would take is like an hour and forty bucks.”
“You know I hate asking you for help D! You already do so much for me.”
Derek shook his head in disbelief.
“No I mean it!” She laughed, placing her phone onto the table between them, “Plus I’ve been working really hard on filling Spencer's brain with as much useless stuff as possible. Currently I’m teaching him to identify any song from Taylor Swift’s discography with only the first five seconds of music - it’s very impressive stuff.”
They both laughed, and Derek plugged his own headphones in. He watched as Y/n’s eyes slunk towards Spencer over and over again, jerking back and forth in a lame attempt to avoid being caught.
~
“You’re in love with me.” He stated simply, as if reciting a basic fact.
“That’s quite the assumption Spence. You don’t know me!” She said back, moving her chess piece across the board.
“Actually it’s not an assumption - it’s a hypothesis I’ve had for quite some time, but after collecting all the appropriate data, conducting peer surveys-”
“Conducting what?”
“Not important. What I’m saying is that the only reasonable conclusion is that you, Y/n L/n, are in love with me.”
She rolled her eyes, pushing the chess game aside and moving to sit next to him on his bed instead of across from him.
“Well that took you long enough.” She laughed, wrapping her arms around his torso. “You think I would let you drive me to work 20 minutes early everyday and come over after each case if I didn't?”
“You think I’d let you say 1989 is the best Taylor Swift album if I wasn’t in love with you? This goes both ways Y/n.”
He looked down at her, and just for a moment let himself slip into those eyes. He felt sleep crawling towards him and sunk deeper into the bed, keeping Y/n close to him as he moved.
“1989 is the best Taylor Swift album, and I’ll prove it to you tomorrow. You just prefer Red because you enjoy emotionally torturing yourself.” She mumbled into his chest.
Spencer just shook his head and let out a breathy laugh and let himself fall asleep.
A/n:
I hate this fic if you read this far I’m sorry it could be done so much better and I might take it down and redo it thats how much I hate it but I really appreciate you reading
First and foremost, I just want to take this opportunity to thank you all for supporting m an my writing :) it sounds cheesy but every comment and message i get means the world to me! again, thank you all so much for your kindness and continued support! sleepover games are under the cut! Nov 9 - 11
asks!
FMK - send me any three characters for a FMK
About The Author - pretty much nothing is off limits with this one! ask me something you want to know about me
Playlists - send me the name of any fic and i will make a lil playlist for it
🌹- send me a rose for a snipit of one of my wips
🍓- moots, send this for me to tell you what I associate with you
criminal minds content!
headcannon and blurb requests will be filled!
MOO - ask me my opinion on any character, plotline, episode, ship or anything else!
Do I ship it?
Fic Recs - ask me about any concept/ship and I’ll recommend a fic for you
this is for you guys more than anything so feel free to send literally anything! I look forward to interacting with you guys even more these next couple days!
here’s a list of everything i’m currently working on!
main masterlist
*note! these are my original ideas (unless requested) and if they’re here i’m already working on them, so please don’t directly copy any of these concepts*
Spencer Reid
Folklore Chapter 2
Fem!Reader BAU!Reader
‘My Tears Ricochet’
Spencer spends some time mourning the loss of his relationship, and deals with living his old life while Y/n has moved on.
You and M.E. (Request)
GN!Reader
Reader is a medical examiner working a high profile case in Virginia that hits a little too close to home. Luckily a cute FBI agent is there to comfort them.
Something Fishy
fic about spencer and his fish because i love them\
Ever Since
the sequel to New York!
Emily Prentiss
Profiling 101
Fem!Reader / Smut
Emily has long since proven herself as a great profiler, however she just can’t seem to pick up what Reader is putting down - until she does.
Derek Morgan
Girl at Home
Reader has to remind Derek why he’s being turned down when he gets a little too close for comfort on a night out.
JJ Jereau
Feb. 14
Likely GN!Reader / Songfic
JJ tries to comfort you when you seem nervous about your first big venue show - but that’s not quite what you’re worried about.
Jemily
Something Gained
Series / Highschool!AU
Emily Prentiss is an ambassador's daughter with an absentee father, a problem with authority, and a knack for causing trouble.
Jennifer Jereau is a people pleaser and textbook overachiever who just wants to be the perfect daughter for her grieving parents.
When Emily is forced to leave Paris and transfer to a small town highschool she's sure she’ll hate it - until a certain blonde makes it a town worth staying in.
