switchblade faith//spencer reid

10

"yes?" he asks meekly. my hand curls around the back of my friend's chair, awaiting the inevitable scolding. this time, a couple heads in the room lift to notice us.

"what did I tell you about these?" Hotch doesn't sound nearly as annoyed as I expected.

"sorry, sir." Reid's eyes shift down. he must have shown other people in the office this trick before, because I certainly haven't seen it.

I swallow as the awkward silence between them festers. then our boss' lips quirk upwards into a small smile. "you're getting better."

he walks off to his office before either of us can say anything about it, and Spencer twists around to look up at me. I'm positive that my face is just as baffled as his.

"that was--" I begin.

"weird."

"yeah."

"if you go get it, I'll teach you how to do the trick." he bargains. I grin.

"really?"

"sure. it's not really a secret. just physics and chemistry." he shrugs like those are two things that everyone completely understands. I like to think of both as kind of magical themselves.

nevertheless, I go to pick up the tiny object. when I hand it back to him, his fingertips brush mine and I find myself pulling away rather quickly. I have no idea if he registers the sharpness of my movement, but he doesn't react at all.

instead, he gestures for me to come closer while he begins to explain.

...

I decide to start a new show while we're on the jet, something to pass the time between now and Montana, where our next case awaits us. Spencer and Morgan are sitting across from me, both of them engrossed in their own activities: the latter has his headphones in while he stares out the window, while the other hasn't looked up from his book since he sat down.

frankly, I'm trying to take my mind off the strangeness of going back to that state for work. we're going to be just a town away from where I grew up, so there's a little bit of distance, but not enough. some things are printed into the back of my mind.

it's not like I have a lot of downtime to binge TV at home, so I don't spend much time browsing Netflix before landing on a medical show that I've been meaning to watch. tucking my legs up beneath me, I get comfy and try (unsuccessfully) to become absorbed in the program.

I wonder if the dust smell will bring back memories, or if the small accent that I did have will return in any form. it's never been strong, but there are a few words which I've been known to pronounce a little differently. I wonder if being back will feel nostalgic or repulsive.

I feel eyes on me a couple minutes later.

my attention is drawn up to Spencer's face, which is somewhat twisted in a focused expression. he doesn't even notice that he's been caught staring until I clear my throat rather loudly.

"something wrong?" I ask. his frown deepens for a millisecond before a rosy hue takes over his cheeks.

"you chew your lip a lot." he observes clinically. I shift in my seat, partly due to being called out.

"oh. yeah," I shrug and pause my show. I try to change the subject. "stare much?"

"I'm a profiler. I observe a lot." he says this like it explains everything. I'm about to retort when Morgan opens his mouth.

"it's true. he knows how many words per minute I can read." the agent pulls off his headphones.

"how many?" I frown.