Spencer Reid one-shots

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He shook his head lightly. "Most students can't even reach my limit and you're going over. It's not a problem, I look forward to reading it. Though I'm sure it will be perfection as usual."

You smiled and nodded. "Thank you so much. See you on Monday," you said and turned towards the door. As you stepped out of the room you felt someone come up next to you.

"I see we have a philosopher on our hands?" Dr. Reid said gently, eliciting a small smile from you.

"I dabble," you teased, holding back a full on grin from taking over your face.

"Dabble as a hobby or as a college major?" he asked in response.

"Major. No offense Dr. Reid, but why are you talking to me. You don't even know my name," you said, stopping and looking at him. He mumbled something under his breath and fidgeting his fingers.

"You are the first person to ever give me a thought-provoking response to that joke. I just wanted to talk to you for some inexplicable reason," he answered truthfully.

"Have you never met another philosophy major before?" you asked bluntly, causing his smile to drop. You sighed lightly. "3 PhD's before 27 is impressive, I'll be 25 when I finish my first one."

"I actually finished my 3rd PhD at 21," he said matter-of-factly, causing you to smile.

"Of course you did," you muttered.

"What do you want a PhD in?" he asked, walking with you to your next class.

"Neuroscience. I want to run a behavioral research lab about the scientific cues behind serial killers and psychopaths," you said, realizing this was one of the first times you had ever told anyone. Yet somehow you felt like it was ok to tell this man, even though you had just met.

"That's one of the most brilliant things I have ever heard," he replied, causing your smile to turn into a grin. "Any idea where you want to go for graduate school?"

"I'm between MIT and Geeogetown right now. Both programs are insane but it just depends on which one gives a more livable stipend. I'm leaning towards MIT though. Because they," you said before being cut off.

"Receive the most behavioral neuroscience NIH funding in the United States," he continued, pushing his hair back with his hands. "Sorry, I interrupt people sometimes. Bad habit."

"It's ok. That big brain of yours has to do something. Anyway, I have a neuroanatomy lecture in fifteen minutes. But it was really nice to meet you," you said as you turned to walk away.

"Wait," he called, making you turn around. "You told me everything about yourself but you didn't give me a name."

You smirked. "You're a profiler right? Figure it out," you replied as you walked away leaving him standing on the stairs of the building.

An hour an a half later you walked out of your neuroanatomy class, trying to figure out the hippocampus circuit in your brain and hoping it was working in saving whatever bits of that lecture you understood. "Y/N," you heard a voice call. You rolled your eyes and turned around, seeing none other than Dr. Reid leaning against the wall.

"Dr. Reid, I know you find stalkers for a living, but it appears you are becoming one," you teased walking up to him.

"I figured out your name," he said softly.

"Took you long enough. How did you do it?"

"I phoned a friend," he answered.

"You had someone in the FBI look me up didn't you?" He nodded sheepishly. You bit the inside of your cheek. "That's cheating."

"You never said I couldn't use my resources," he retorted. "Now, what does a guy have to do to get your number?"

"Well seeing as you cheated, you can profile me over a cup of coffee. If you're correct, you can have my number."

"Deal."

"You don't want to know what happens if you're wrong?"

"I'm never wrong," he said surely, holding the door open for you to walk out of building.

"There's that FBI ego," you muttered, smiling at him as you exited the building.