Spencer Reid: Oneshots

Undercover

Summary: Spencer goes undercover with Reader to get solid evidence against an underground ring, but their romantic cover goes to pretty far lengths to avoid being caught.
Warning: Mentions of murder, drugs, drug dealing, and guns.

"So what do we know about Alexander De Brisbois?" Emily asked, looking to the screen.

"It appears that he's 58, disguises his ring as a massive textile corporation, and is incredibly wealthy." Penelope typed rapidly. "He has a 28 year old son named Damien who is set to inherit the franchise. I'm sending over a photo now."

Spencer glanced at it. "The unsub in the video clip had a slight limp on his left leg, is there any record on Damien regarding that?"

"Good eye, oh genius one. There is indeed...oh."

"What is it, Garcia?" Hotch questioned.

"When Damien was 11, a chauffeur was driving him and his mother, Elise, to an event a family friend was holding, but they got into an accident. Damien suffered an injury to his left leg, but his mother and the driver didn't make it."

The team observed the accident photos. "Not to be that guy, but we can't rule out that this was staged," Derek jumped in.

"I think it's highly possible and fits the profile. Garcia, look into anything involving Elise De Brisbois, and why she may have been a threat."

"I'm on it, sir."

"Okay!" Penelope ran into the round table room. "I've got a whole jackpot. It took a lot of digging, but I've got it. Elise De Brisbois is actually Elise Lapointe, another wealthy heiress coming from a shoemaking franchise. I did some digging, and it appears that the company is legit, so she is not in some rival ring meant to infiltrate Alexander's. However, I did find record that she intended on divorcing Alexander only 2 months before her death."

"She may have found out about the drug ring, wanted to leave, and Alexander feared she would tell the authorities," JJ pointed out.

"So the only way to silence her was to kill her..." Rossi looked around, everyone nodding.

"It's pretty clear Alexander is our guy, but we have no solid proof yet," Hotch told everyone. "Garcia, anything?"

"He comes up as clean on my systems, and I've done a lot of digging."

Emily looked up. "That's it."

"What?" JJ glanced over.

"My old friend from Interpol mentioned they'd be in DC this weekend for a charity event being hosted by Brisbois Inc."

"A way to get everyone together as the murders peak, there has to be an endgame here," Spencer chimed in.

"We need to find a way to get into that gala."

"This is not what I had in mind," Spencer mumbled, Emily adjusting the tie on his neck.

"You look hot, I'm not gonna lie."

"It isn't about looking hot, I'm much more useful helping elsewhere."

"Unfortunately not, pretty boy." Derek patted his head. "You're the only one who hasn't been involved in a foreign operation that could make you identifiable and also the perfect age mark for this."

Spencer exhaled. "My name is Charlie Hollander, I'm 29, I own a company that supports research regarding medical usage of marijuana."

"You'll meet your wife when you get there," Hotch said casually.

He coughed. "Pardon?"

"We're working with the CIA, they've been following this ring for years. They're sending one of their agents to go in as your wife, she's fluent in French and knows the case better than us."