Spencer Reid: Oneshots

Night In

Summary: A simple night in leads to an epiphany for Spencer.

When Spencer opened the door, he noticed your shoes were already lined up against the wall. He took his own off, neatly untying them and placing them next to yours—the laces very much still done. "Y/N?"

"Leftover pasta on the counter!" You called out. "Sorry, I started eating."

Spencer shook his head, grabbing a plate from the cabinet and spooning some spaghetti noodles and sauce onto the plate. "Don't worry about it. I wouldn't have expected you to wait for me."

"I did wait until eating the freezer cake we discovered on Sunday."

He chuckled, recalling you both finding wedding cake in the freezer left over from when JJ got married a few months back. "I still find it mildly repulsive," Spencer said, turning on the microwave.

"That's because you haven't tried it," you protested. "Trust me, everything stays good when frozen."

Spencer grimaced. "Famous last words." He sat down across from you at the table, starting to eat. "Good day?"

You shrugged. "About the same. Although, the girl who has the office across from me got called into HR with this guy down the hall. I bet you anything they've been hooking up."

"That's the most valuable thing you took from work today? Not the fact that you got the story on that string of murders upstate?" Spencer had the biggest smile on his face.

You flushed. "Who told you? I wanted to keep it on the down-low in case people accuse me of getting such a good story because we're dating."

"Hotch might've mentioned it in passing. I'm really proud of you, Y/N. This is huge!"

You bit your lip. "Well...yeah! It really is! Not to brag but also I'm totally bragging right now, this story could launch me to being a full time current events writer."

"You deserve it more than anyone," Spencer said, heading to the sink and washing the plate. "And don't accuse me of saying that because I'm madly in love with you because you've been using that as a counter way too much lately."

You wiggled your brows. "Don't deny it. Now, get some freezer cake to celebrate!"

Spencer shook his head, pulling out the two triangles of rock hard cake covered in foil. "This is very weird. How do we get this to...be normal?"

"Defrost setting on the microwave!" You flipped through the channels. "Spence! Shark Week re-runs are on!"

Your boyfriend smile softly at how excited you got. "At least wait for me." He pulled the cakes from the microwave and furled his brows. "This looks...normal."

"Told you! C'mon, smart ass, trust me sometimes."

Spencer rolled his eyes, sitting down next to you. "Here."

"Okay. I'm hitting play, zero interruptions!"

Spencer wasn't entirely sure how many hours of purely shark documentaries went by, but at some point the sunset outside turned pitch black, and you were sound asleep. Though he didn't see how the supple sounds of Australian guys yelling about great whites could send someone into such a deep sleep. The, now scraped clean, plates of freezer cake lay on the coffee table next to a pile of books that Spencer enjoyed reading when you forced him to watch the Bachelor. He carefully reached for one of the books, trying not to move enough as to wake you up. His arms carefully wrapped around you, holding the book above you.

It was in that exact moment, you asleep on his chest with Cal Tech hoodie on, the muffled sounds of shark documentaries playing, your many pairs of shoes scattered next to Spencer's neatly aligned couple pairs, and the book in his hand that had little annotations done by you after you first started dating, that Spencer knew that he wanted to marry you.

And on your next night in, with the same Shark Week re-runs in the background and after eating some more freezer cake, he asked if you wanted to marry him too. Lucky for Spencer, you did.