ODE TO VIVIAN ― spencer reid

l.d.s.k

hotch fired the gun three times, hitting exactly where he'd aimed every time. when he was satisfied, he slid his gun back into his sock and took his headphones off. "when i joined the bau, gideon said to me, 'you don't have to carry a gun to kill someone.'"

"i don't get it," spencer murmured, his brow creased in confusion. it was obvious he wasn't used to not understanding things.

"you will," hotch said immediately. he patted spencer and vivian on the shoulders and left the booth. "good luck tomorrow, guys."

spoiler alert : vivian passed, spencer failed. she felt horrible about it, even though she knew she shouldn't, and every moment his desk sat empty, her worry grew. he was never late. gideon entered the office briskly, elle turning to him and simply stating, "reid failed his qualification."

"i know. he can re-test in two weeks," gideon replied, not stopping to converse.

vivian looked up from the file she was glancing over. "he called me after he found out, he sounded humiliated. i thought he was gonna cry." she turned to morgan with a glare. "don't you dare give him a hard time."

gideon and elle nodded, giving morgan pointed looks. "agreed," they both said in unison.

morgan huffed lightly, holding up his hands in surrender. "not a word." vivian perked up as spencer walked in, holding two cups of coffee and staring at the ground. without a word, he sat one cup on her desk and sat down at his desk. vivian shot him a small "thanks," and a weak smile.

vivian watched morgan suspiciously as he walked over to spencer, an obviously fake concerned expression on his face. "hey," morgan said softly. "we're all here for you." spencer ignored him. "i'm serious." spencer finally looked up at him, displaying insanely cute puppy dog eyes. vivian shook her head. what the hell?

morgan held out a whistle, wrapping the necklace around spencer's neck. "if you ever need anything..." morgan finally grinned, blowing a sharp note on the whistle. "just blow on that." he sauntered back to his desk, chuckling.

vivian rolled her eyes, groaning. "jesus christ, morgan," she mumbled, shaking her head.

spencer's expression contorted in frustration and he angrily threw the whistle onto his desk. he smoothed back his hair, unable to look at any of his coworkers. vivian could practically feel the embarrassment wafting off of him.

jj walked in, raising her voice to alert the team of a new case. "okay, franklin park, des plaines, yesterday afternoon. three victims shot at distance." she leaned over vivian's desk, passing her her case file. "it's the third such shooting in two weeks."

"a sniper?" elle asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

"we don't use that word," morgan said quickly. too quickly.

"why not?"

"the public perception is that the fbi doesn't have an exemplary record with snipers," jj explained, snorting lightly.

"besides, a sniper is a professional marksman," hotch added, flipping through his papers. "these guys aren't snipers."

vivian raised an eyebrow, flipping through a few gorey photographs of the victims. she glanced over at spencer, trying to read his expression. he looked like he wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. he was always one to show his emotions on his face, for a behavioral analyst he was horrible at hiding how he felt. she reached over under the desk and locked her pinky with his. he glanced over at her and she shot him a comforting look, taking note of how his shoulders relaxed slightly.

"what do we call 'em if they're not snipers?" elle asked hotch.

"l.d.s.k."

spencer cleared his throat, speaking up. "long distance serial killers."