Annoyance (Spencer Reid x Reader)

The Elevator

Perhaps it was in the way he said your name. Or the way he flexed his hands after writing for a long while. Or perhaps it was when he bit his lip while his brain went into overdrive trying to solve some kind of mystery.

"Hey, could you hold the elevator?"

For some absolute reason, you could not stand Spencer Reid. He was always pleasant to you and everyone else as far as you knew, and brilliant to boot. But for some reason, any time that he opened his mouth your first instinct was to bite back a sigh of annoyance.

"Yeah, sure," you said, jutting your arm out to stop the doors from closing. The next 2-4 minutes were going to be stressful.

"Thanks!" Spencer grinned as he slid into the elevator with you.

"Yeah, of course." You lightly smiled back, staring straight ahead as the elevator doors closed. Leaving you alone with Spencer.

"Any uh... plans for the weekend?"

It was the timidness, honestly. You knew there was something there, something hiding under the surface that was not so awkward, not so innocent. It was maddening, watching him bumble around and act so clueless when you knew damn well what he was doing. Showing awkwardness outwardly creates a sort of trustworthiness to those who observe it; allowing someone to see you in a vulnerable state creates this trust. Nobody gave a second thought to it, but you saw it for what it was. He was a liar.

"Nope. You?"

"Yeah, actually. There's a screening of a foreign film I want to see, La Regle du Jeu. It was originally banned for being unpatriotic considering it was filmed before WWII. They're showing the entire uncut version, I didn't realize they were able to put together the entire thing."

You pondered for a moment, deciding if it was worth it to speak up.

"Renoir honestly did a great job with that movie. The point of view they made when filming, making you seem like a spectator? Super cool. Plus, who doesn't love a good movie about classism?"

Reid's head whipped to you so fast you thought it could be on a swivel.

"You like French film?"

The incredulous note in his voice irritated you. Did he not think you were cultured enough to enjoy French film? Two floors left. You bit back a sigh.

"Yeah, I'm semi-fluent. Not as good as I used to be. Nothing fancy, just mandatory language that I needed to graduate college."

"Well, you're more than welcome to come with me tonight, if you want! I'm pretty sure they'll have most of the subtitles so you can enjoy it. Or I can just translate parts of it for you too."

Boy, he was cocky. As if you needed his help. You turned and looked at him as the elevator slowed and the doors opened with a ding.

"I'm good, but thanks for the offer. Have a nice weekend." You smiled politely, but coldly.

"Oh, okay. See you around!"

You sighed in annoyance, going over the interaction while you walked to your car. Spencer was smarter than everyone, and everyone knew it. It was the constant display of intelligence and his show-offy behavior got really tiring really fast. It was like he expected that nobody could keep up with him, so he spent every waking moment reminding everyone of it.

Maybe you were too competitive. Maybe you had an inferiority complex. It's not like you couldn't do his job, it's that you didn't want to. The psychological toll that the profilers endured was something you knew would be too much, so you chose a desk job in the same unit. You wanted to help, but you didn't want to ruin your own mental health in the long run. Perhaps that was also part of the problem. You chose not to do the job, and people like Spencer just assumed you couldn't. It wasn't the work that was the problem, it was the fallout. The constant assumptions that you just weren't good enough were too overwhelming.

The thing is, you knew very well that nobody was really thinking that. To be honest, nobody from work probably even thought about you once they left the building. It was just your insecurities speaking for themselves.

With another sigh, you closed your car door, started the car, and headed home for another eventless weekend.