You and Spencer Reid — sorry, Dr. Spencer Reid, as he adorably introduced himself to you on your first day at the BAU (and scrambled to say, "S-Sorry, it's Spencer. Just Spencer Reid," immediately after).
The two of you have quite the bond.
You also have quite the crush on him.
You're no genius, not in the way Spencer is. Your memory is nowhere near eidetic, it more resembles Dory from Finding Nemo, but you don't make that joke anymore. Hotch gave you quite a worried look and called you into his office an hour later to ask if you were alright that day.
But you digress.
Before you met Spencer, Google was your best friend. You ask a lot of questions, and by a lot– well, just ask Morgan.
On your first day, Morgan said, and you quote, "Oh, God. There's two of them."
Whenever you had a question, you Googled it. You researched, you found literary journals and universities that studied what you wanted to know. You found your answers, and sometimes more questions along the way.
But when you started at the BAU, Google was child's play. Especially when Spencer could give you the answer faster than you could type in the question and hit enter on Google.
It's one of the things you love most about him. At first, he only answered you because you have a bad habit of asking questions aloud when meaning to just speak to yourself. Spencer didn't know you were mainly asking yourself, and he launched into a full explanation. You were too mesmerised to stop him, and started asking further questions. It went on and on until you were dazed and he was smiling, and the rest of the team was staring at the two of you like you'd gone insane.
So now, you ask him anything and everything.
Like...
Recently, you called him at almost ten at night. It was storming, but you really needed to take a shower. It had been two days since your last, and you couldn't take it anymore.
"Hey Spence," you said when he picks up. "Statistically speaking, how likely am I to get struck by lightning?"
"What? Y/N, what are you doing?"
"I need to shower and it's storming. How do I look statistically?"
"Not good! Don't take a shower!"
"Spencer," you groaned, flopping down on your bed.
"Y/N, showering increases your likelihood of being electrocuted. Ten to twenty people on average are struck by lighting when bathing."
"There's the stats," you chuckled. "Fine, genius. I'll wait it out."
"Good," he sounded genuinely relieved.
His concern made you smile. "What are you up to?"
"Talking you out of electrocuting yourself."
"I wouldn't be electrocuting myself. The lightning is what would do it."
"Yes, I know."
"Are you tired of me yet?"
Spencer laughed airily before he replied in a soft voice, "No. Never."
As strange as it sounds, things changed that night. Spencer stayed on the phone with you until the storm passed – you were getting scared after a particularly loud boom of thunder, but you'd never admit that to him. Once it passed and once Spencer checked the weather radar to be sure it was gone, he let you shower.
The next morning at the BAU, you fixed a cup of coffee for him as a thank you for the night before. You were expecting him to take it and move on, but he pulled you into a hug instead.
Thankfully, no one saw it. If they had, you'd both be getting hell for it.
But despite not seeing the hug, the team has noticed things.
Hotch first noticed it when you offered to accompany Reid to the local police station to set things up on a new case. You normally go with Emily to talk to the families or even with Morgan to visit crime scenes. It was nothing against Spencer, you just happened to like being out in the field more than holed up in a station with exhausted law enforcement.
But not this time. This time you wanted to be with Reid. You even turned down Morgan's offer to go to the crime scene.
Yeah. Hotch knew something was up.
Morgan noticed, too. He saw you pouring a massive amount of sugar into a cup of coffee and jokingly asked if it was for Reid. In your flustered state, you said it was yours. But Morgan watched you hand the cup off to Reid once you were back with him.
Emily's suspicions were confirmed when you were talking with her one night on the plane. Everyone else was asleep, so you, Emily, and JJ began talking about "girly" things. Tonight's topic happened to be crushes.
"I can't imagine falling for someone on the team," Emily whispered, pulling a face, overdoing it just to get your reaction.
And your reaction was priceless. You shrugged and went completely silent. While you were glancing over your shoulder to check that Reid was still sleeping, Emily shared quite the look with JJ.
Garcia was maybe the last to notice things. She had her suspicions as well (it passes the time, and Morgan made a few comments about it, too), but when she saw the two of you laughing, that was it. Spencer was sitting in his desk chair and you were sitting on his desk. You were arguing about something Garcia couldn't hear, but the smiles on your faces told her the argument was all flirting.
And she'd be right to think that, too. The argument that day was that Spencer overworks himself, so you promptly sat on top of his paperwork so that he couldn't get to it. He refused to touch it because it was too close to your ass and voiced this issue, and you told him it sounded like a personal problem. And that you wanted him to get up and walk around, maybe eat something, too.
You're a bit of a hopeless romantic. That part of you was telling you that Spencer's flirting was genuine. That there were feelings buried behind it, but you were never sure.
Spencer was officially the last to notice.
"How am I looking?" You asked seemingly out of nowhere.
Spencer raised his eyebrows, turning to look at you, your voice having broken him out of his thoughts. "Uh, good?"
You tilt your head. "No, statistically. I asked what are the chances of me making it to dinner on time?"
"Dinner?" Morgan asked, sauntering over with his blinding smile. "Got a hot date tonight?"
"You wish," you scoffed, shoving his shoulder lightly.
But you didn't elaborate further, which caused Spencer to go quiet. Realizing you weren't getting any statistics out of him this time, you gathered your things in your arms and headed out.
Once you made it through the door, Morgan nearly fell to the floor. "Spencer. Pretty boy. What are you doing, man?"
Spencer dumbly looked down at the paperwork on his desk.
Before he could say anything, Morgan said, "No, man, not the paperwork. Y/N. What are you doing?"
"What do you mean what am I doing?"
Morgan laughed loudly. "Oh, pretty boy. You have no idea?"
Spencer scooted back from his desk, eyebrows furrowed in genuine confusion. "No idea about what?"
"Reid," Morgan emphasizes every word. "She likes you."
The sentence stunned Spencer so much he nearly fell out of his chair. "What?"
"Come on, man," Morgan groaned. "An IQ of 187 and it didn't help you see she's got feelings for you?"
Spencer stood to his feet, grabbing his jacket. You liked him. You like him, and you're going to dinner with someone else.
"There you go," Morgan cheered as Spencer practically bolted from the room. "Go get her, tiger!"
"Shut up!" Spencer called after Morgan.
Pushing through the doors, Spencer halted, seeing you standing by the elevator. You're staring down at your phone, and you don't exactly look happy.
Spencer approaches you slowly, hand gripping the strap of his bag. "You okay?"
You look up quickly like he's startled you, and truthfully, he has. "Oh. Um, no. My date– Well, they cancelled. Said something came up."
Spencer can see you're hurt by this, but he doesn't care. "Have dinner with me," he says, eyes expectant.
"With you?" You ask.
"Yeah," he shrugs, a smile coming through when he adds, "please."
"Okay," you can't help but smile, too.
Spencer grins now, stepping over to press the down arrow on the elevator. You wait in silence, stepping on when the doors open, and Spencer presses the button for the ground floor.
All of your hurt is gone from your face now, and it causes Spencer to start thinking. He stares ahead, and then he hears you giggle.
When he looks over at you, he asks. "You didn't have a dinner date, did you?"
"Nope," you chuckle. "Got ya."
"Yeah," Spencer laughs. "You got me."
"So..." You pause, heart racing. "Statistically speaking, how likely are you to kiss me right now?"
Spencer doesn't even care that the elevator is a few seconds from reaching the ground floor. All he cares about right now is you.
And because of that, he says, "Very likely," before pulling you in. Your fingers tangle in his hair while his cup your jaw, moving you closer, deepening the kiss, trying to make up for all of his stupidity. As he holds you now, feels your lips, he wonders how he never knew.