You were grateful that the team chose to ignore how you held Emily's hand on the flight home. You sat with your head against the window, eyes closed as you played music through your headphones to drown out the world. You knew this was going to be exhausting, knew it wasn't going to be easy. You just didn't expect for it to take so much out of you.
Hotch had given the team a few days off, and you spent both of them in bed. It wasn't depression, per se, but you needed extra time to process the events of last week. You slept a lot, thankfully dreamless sleep, and got takeout when you could. Yet no matter how much you slept, you still felt tired. You knew the emotional labor you had expended was more than you could handle, so you spent most of your time watching mind-numbing television and surfing social media on your phone. Anything to distract you from the photos you'd seen.
Your first day back, you were summoned to Hotch's office. Your heart racing, you climbed the stairs. You'd forgotten about the fact that you would get feedback. Were you actually a valuable asset to the team? Hotch took a seat as his desk and you followed suit, slightly sitting on your hands so you wouldn't start to wring them with worry.
"You did a nice job, Agent. Thank you for your hard work out there. I know it isn't easy, but you gave it your all, and that is greatly appreciated. We're still keeping you on probation as per protocol, but I have no doubts that you'll succeed with us in the future."
You breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God. Your heart rate started to decelerate until you had processed the next words that came out of his mouth.
"A new job comes with new paperwork and new responsibilities. Today, you're going to sit with Dr. Reid while he walks you through how to handle casework after traveling. He does it very quickly and efficiently, so I'm sure he will teach you well."
Seeing the look on your face, Hotchner paused.
"Is that... going to be a problem for you, Agent?"
You composed yourself and smiled.
"Absolutely not. I apologize, I was just really worried about my feedback. I really appreciate your encouragement. Do you think you could email me some tips or things you would like me to improve upon for our next case?"
He eyed you warily but you suppose he decided that pursuing this new line of questioning wasn't worth the time.
"Of course. Paperwork is usually due within 3-5 days after a case, so get to work. I'll be looking out for your files. Don't hesitate to ask if you have any other questions. I've already informed Reid that you'll be joining him today, so he's already waiting for you. Good luck."
"Thanks, Hotch." You stood from his desk, shook his hand, and made your way down to the bullpen. You decided to go over to Reid first and get the awkward moment out of the way. He looked up while you were walking over, and you made eye contact with him as you did. He had really pretty eyes.
"Hey, Y/N. Pull up a chair and we'll get started."
You grabbed your chair from your desk and rolled it over. It was then that you realized. These desks were spacious enough for one person, but not enough for two. You were going to be cramped next to this man all day. You sighed lightly and pulled your chair next to his, squeezing in beside him.
This was going to be so uncomfortable. You were hyperaware of how close your knees and shoulders were to almost touching, and you could feel his warmth through the cardigan he wore. He smelled like men's deodorant and coffee and old books, something so comforting to you that you had to shake your head to snap out if it. This was inappropriate.
"Alright, so-"
Without any introduction, Reid turned to the computer and started to explain the process of paperwork. How to find the files, what to fill out where, what order things should go in, etc. You were trying to pay attention, you really were. But the warmth coming from his body and the drone of his voice and the leftover tiredness you felt from the week before started to get to you, and you started to zone out entirely. You resisted the urge to rest your head on your hand because you knew you'd probably fall asleep if you did.
It wasn't until he turned to look at you that you realized you had gotten completely out of focus. From the look on his face it was clear that he had asked a question, but since you weren't listening you had no idea what to say. You opened your mouth and then closed it again, thinking of what to do.
"Uh, sorry, could you repeat the question?"
Spencer sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Okay, did you want to learn how to do this or not? Because I feel like I'm wasting my time if you're not even going to listen to me." You opened your mouth to reply, but Derek beat you to it.
"Hey kid, take it easy! I almost fell asleep over here listening to you, that poor girl doesn't even stand a chance."
A few surrounding people chuckled. Spencer opened his eyes and stared into yours, frowning. You bit your lip, trying so hard not to laugh as the annoyance washed over his face.
"Go grab the forms from the printer and fill them out here. I'll look over them when you're done."
You nodded silently, still suppressing a smile as you meandered over to the copy machine to grab the papers. You didn't like the way he spoke to you, but you did love how annoyed he was, and you knew that he could tell it was entertaining you. You plopped back down next to him after retrieving the papers.
"Shoot," you mumbled. Spencer turned to look at you.
"What?"
"Oh, I forgot my pen. I can go grab one from my desk." You started to move, but Spencer, without even looking, reached over you to grab a pen from the cup in front of you.
"No reason. Just use this one." He dropped it on the pile of papers in front of you and put his hands back on his keyboard, typing up an email or something. The pen was made of some kind of silver metal, probably refillable by the looks of it, and pretty heavy. Definitely expensive. Something like this was entirely too personal for you to be using.
"Reid, it's okay, I have other pens. This one is just-"
"Just what? Use the pen, it's fine," he said, not even turning to look at you. You soon realized why he had asked you to use it. The ink on the inside of the tip had probably dried up from disuse, making it frustrating to write with. One second the pen would write just fine, and the next it wouldn't. Part of your hand was dedicated to scribbles that you had used to try to restart the pen without making stray marks on your paper.
This was his revenge for people laughing at him, and it wasn't even your fault! It was Derek's! You wouldn't let him get to you though. You persisted without a sigh or complaint, hoping your endless patience would piss him off even more, despite the fact that it was taking forever to complete. You finished up the paperwork and slid it over to him, catching it on his elbow.
"Here you go. I'm pretty sure I got it all."
Spencer dragged the papers toward himself and sat in silence for a few moments, taking a different pen and marking small things on the papers that he wanted you to fix. You rolled your eyes when he did, realizing most of it was just petty stuff and that he was just looking for a reason to prove you wrong somehow.
"These are fine. Go ahead and type up the forms online so you can print them again and turn them in."
... Did he just say type? Your silence prompted him to turn and look at you, the faintest hint of a smirk playing on his face. That bastard made you sit in a cramped space with him and told you to do almost 20 pages of paperwork with a broken pen, only to tell you that you could have done it all digitally from your own desk. You clenched your jaw and took a deep breath before snatching your papers and standing up, grabbing your chair when you did so.
"Thanks," you muttered, dragging your chair behind you as you tried to calm yourself down. Spencer just smiled before turning back to whatever he was doing.
-
You were at home, digging for something in your purse when you found it. Spencer's pen. You had grabbed it on accident when you took your papers from him. You were actually familiar with pens like this. Your career advisor in college had a similar one.
He had said, "Make sure you have something that represents you, represents your brand. People know me for my pens. I always have some on hand, but I never let anyone use my nice one. See? It's even engraved."
He had bought you one for your graduation, and it sat on your desk at home as a reminder of those days. You knew a little bit about maintenance, enough to know how to disassemble, clean, and reassemble pens like this. Without even thinking about it, you brought the pen to your sink and filled a glass of water before taking it apart, soaking some pieces in the glass while running other pieces under water.
You set them out to dry, and then reassembled the pen in the morning. You tried it out on the stationary on your desk, and unsurprisingly it worked perfectly, much more smoothly than the day before. Before, you could barely write a full word without the ink noticeably running out, but now it was as good as new.
Spencer hadn't yet arrived when you got to the office that morning. Pulling a post-it note from your desk, you wrote a small message and stuck it on his keyboard next to the pen. You waited for his arrival to note his reaction, to see if he would look at you or say anything. No response whatsoever. Whether or not he cared, at least he couldn't pull that prank on anybody else.
Doctor,
Thanks for letting me borrow your pen :)