Your first month at the BAU passed quite quickly. The constant traveling was absolutely draining, but knowing you were saving lives as you worked helped keep you motivated. Spencer and you had fallen into an awkward rhythm. You'd gotten a car, so every morning the two of you drove into work together, and back every night. For convenience only. It was quite obvious to you, and to the rest of the team, that Spencer had no desire to sit in the car with you twice a day. The drives were filled with awkward silence, an occasional fact left Spencer's lips as you passed a specific type of tree or if a certain billboard displayed something that Spencer was interested in, but he mostly ignored your existence. The women of the BAU had taken you under their wing, and you were currently getting ready for a night out with the team. After all, it was your first night off in a while, and Garcia insisted on taking everyone out on the town.
Your closet was void of clubbing clothes, and you knew Garcia would be so disappointed in you if you arrived in your work clothes. Digging into the depths of your closet, you finally found a small black dress, definitely a size too small, but Garcia would appreciate the effort. Pulling it over your head, the tight fabric clung to your breasts and your hips, accentuating your curves. The dress fell to the middle of your thigh, and you pulled a pair of fishnets on. Makeup was a weak spot for you, but you were able to apply a subtly smokey eye, pairing it with a dark red lip. When you were finished, you pulled your boots on and stepped out of your apartment, running right into Spencer.
"Hey!" You said, trying to sound nice, "Do you want a ride to the bar?"
"Erm, yeah." Spencer stuttered, raking his eyes over your body. "You look, different."
You shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze. "Yeah, Garcia made it clear I need to 'hoe it up' for tonight's outing."
"Well, you definitely did that." As soon as he spoke, he realized what he'd said, and clamped his hand over his mouth.
"Did you seriously just say that?" You said, shocked. "What the fuck is the matter with you?"
"Y/N, I'm sorry, that was supposed to be a joke but it didn't really come out right." Spencer was blushing profusely, and you spun on your heel and stalked away from him. "Y/N," he called, catching your arm as you stomped way.
"Let go of me!" You hissed, yanking your arm away. "Look I get it, you hate me, but that doesn't mean you have the right to be a straight-up dick." You left him standing on the porch of the building as you walked towards the parking lot on the side of the building. Spencer walked behind, calling after you.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that."
"Then how did you mean it, Spencer? How I dress is really none of your business." You yanked open the car door and sat inside. Before you had the chance to lock the doors, Spencer was climbing into your passenger seat.
"I know, I meant it as a joke but it came out wrong, I'm sorry."
You glared at him from the driver's side. "Get the fuck out of my car. You can uber for all I care."
Spencer crossed his arms. "No."
"No? "
Spencer shrugged. "I'm not getting out, so you should just forgive me now."
"Too bad, I don't accept your apology." You started the car. "I'm telling you now, I can't promise that I won't push you out at the next stoplight."
Spencer grinned, glancing over at you. "I'd like to see you try."
You rolled your eyes at him as you threw the car in reverse. Typing the address of the bar into your GPS, you pulled out of the lot and started the journey. Spencer battled the little voice coming from your phone the whole time, giving his directions a minute before Siri.
"Here, its right here," Spencer said, pointing at the brick building on the corner of Nettle Street and Barberry Lane. You maneuvered your car into a spot next to Prentiss's Volkswagon. Following Spencer, the two of you made it inside, scouring the bar for the rest of the team. JJ spotted you first and waved you over. She smiled warmly as you took the seat between her and Prentiss.
"Hey!" She said, wrapping an arm around you, "What are you drinking tonight?"
"Hm, depends. I've gotta keep it light tonight, I promised Garcia I'd be her designated driver."
Garcia smiled at you from across the table, and you winked back at her. Morgan returned from the bar, holding a tray of assorted colorful and slightly dangerous-looking drinks. Your eyes widened as he set a glass of blue liquid down in front of you, spinning it around so the straw faced you. You stared at it warily.
"What's this?"
Morgan shrugged playfully. "It's called 'Electric Lightning', I'm not really sure what's in it but, I thought it looked cool."
He sat drinks down in front of the rest of the team, and you frowned as Rossi and Hotch were passed smaller glasses of amber-looking alcohol.
"How come they get regular drinks?" You pouted, triggering a laugh from your teammates.
"If I gave Hotch a 'Tequila Sunrise', I'm pretty sure he'd report me to internal affairs," Morgan said.
Hotch chuckled and nodded his head. "You're right about that one."
Glancing one more time at the bright blue drink, you pinched the straw between your fingers and pulled it to your lips. The sickly sweet taste of artificial lemonade and blue raspberry masked the burn of the vodka sliding down your throat. The team followed, and soon everyone was on their third drink, leaving you, Hotch, and Rossi to sip on sodas. Prentiss disappeared from the table, returning with a second tray of shots. They were passed around, and you skillfully slid yours in front of Spencer. He frowned at first, but then changed his mind, throwing back both of them. Hotch stared, wide-eyed, at his Boy Genius, obviously shocked by Spencer's confidence. Spencer's face crinkled as the booze reached his tastebuds, and he shook his head back and forth.
You watched as Garcia pulled Morgan to the dancefloor, and laughed as JJ and Prentiss grabbed you and pulled you into the crowd. You moved your hips to the music, matching the rhythm of the song with your movement, smiling, and giggling with your friends. As Rihanna blasted from the speakers, you wrapped your arms around Prentiss's neck. She grinned, copying your movements. You danced for a while before feeling a pair of unfamiliar hands wrap around your waist. You turned to glance over your shoulder, seeing a stranger with his arms around you. You skillfully moved away, rejoining the group of your friends. Spencer had joined the crowd on the dancefloor, and you bit your lip in hopes of silencing the laugh building in your chest at Spencer's erratic movements. He was obviously very drunk, and you knew it was going to be hell getting him back to the apartment. As you danced, you noticed the stranger moving back towards you, so you inched next to Morgan, hoping your friend's muscles would scare away the approaching man. He fell back again, leaving you to plant yourself at Morgan's side. You didn't say anything out loud, but Morgan caught the expression on your face, and he turned to look into the crowd. You breathed a sigh of relief as you noticed the absence of your follower, and you were able to relax again. But, as quickly as he left, the stranger reappeared, trying to grab your wrist and pull you away from your friends. He'd obviously assumed you were as drunk as your friends, not realizing how sober you truly were. Your words were lost in the music, so you reached out and frantically clung to Morgan's arm. He turned to look at you, expression darkening as he saw what was going on.
"Get the fuck off of her." He shouted over the music, grabbing you away from the man.
"Hey, hey." The man threw his hands up, surrendering. "I just wanted to get her a drink." The rest of the team noticed the commotion, stepping closer to you and Morgan.
"She doesn't want a drink, I suggest you get out of here," Morgan growled, stepping closer to the man.
"Fine," He said, turning to walk away. Before he left, he shot one more glance at you. "Maybe if you don't want the attention, you shouldn't be out dressed like such a slut." He spat at you.
Spencer pushed past Morgan, and drunkenly screamed, "SHE'S NOT A SLUT!"
"Spencer, No!" You shouted, but it was too late. Spencer cocked his fist and slammed it into the jaw of the stranger. The man recovered and moved to hit him back, but you grabbed the back of Spencer's shirt, pulling him behind you. Morgan stepped up and pushed the man back.
"Leave. Now." He said, glaring down at the stranger. Obviously embarrassed, the man slunk out of the bar.
"God, Spencer." You said, leading him back to the table. "Why'd you do that?"
"Because you're not a slut, Y/N. He called you a slut and you're not a slut." Spencer slurred as you sat him on the seat next to your boss. "Hey guys, guess what?" He stage whispered, leaning towards Hotch and Rossi. "I just punched someone in the face."
Rossi raised his eyebrows, and the rest of the team returned to the table. Morgan rested his hand on your shoulder. "You okay?" He asked, looking down at you.
"Yeah," You breathed. "Thanks to you." Spencer shot a look at you, "And Spencer too." You added, patting his leg.
"I think that's our queue to head out. You ready Garcia?" You asked, glancing at your friend.
"Yep!" She said, grabbing her purse from the table. "Come on, Spencer." Garcia wrapped her arm around Spencer's waist and heaved him up into a standing position.
The three of you made your way to the door, waving goodbye to the rest of the team. You walked next to Spencer and Garcia, opening the backdoor so Garcia could unload Spencer into the seat. He groaned as he curled up on the backseat, clutching his stomach.
"I drank too much." He cried, burying his face into the seat.
Garcia slid into the passenger seat. "I tried telling you to stop."
You climbed into the driver's seat and started the car. You started the drive to Garcia's apartment, listening to her's and Spencer's drunken banter. The drive was quick, and soon you were parked in the front of Garcia's apartment, watching her climb the steps to her unit. You rolled down the window and leaned out.
"Bye Garcia!" You called, waving. "See you tomorrow!"
She turned and waved, and you pulled out of the spot. Spencer whimpered from the backseat.
"You better not throw up in my car." You warned, glancing into the review mirror. His cheeks were a faint shade of green, and his arms were wrapped around his stomach.
"I'll try not to," he groaned.
You picked up your speed slightly, trying to make it on time. Pulling into the closest parking spot, the second you stopped the car, Spencer was rolling out of the car, stumbling over to the bushes lining the building and emptying the contents of his stomach into the shrubs.
"Oh, Spencer." You walked over to him and patted his back. "Just let it out."
And let it out he did. Spencer spent a few minutes hunched over the plant box, and you kept your hand flat on his back, trying to comfort him. When he was done, you slung his arm over your shoulder and pulled him up the stairs. He stumbled next to you, tripping over his own feet. He learned against you as you hesitated at his apartment door. You reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys, unlocking the door. Stepping into Spencer's darkened apartment, it was exactly how you'd imagine it. The dark walls and dark furniture made the apartment feel small, and the stacks of books lining every shelf, every table, and basically every surface. You weaved him through the maze of books, and lead him to his bedroom. He flopped down on the bed, kicking his shoes off, and you left the room to grab him a few things. You started in the kitchen, fetching him a glass of water and a large bowl before stepping into the bathroom. You pulled a bottle of extra-strength Tylenol and a towel from the cabinet. Walking back to Spencer's room, you saw poor Spencer curled under the covers. He'd kicked his shoes and pants off, but left his t-shirt and boxers on. You set the cup and the Tylenol on the bedside table, then you laid the towel on the ground next to him, and put the bowl on top, just in case he decided to get sick again.
"Goodnight, Spencer." You whispered, stepping into the hallway.
"G'night, Y/N." He slurred. "I'm sorry I was mean earlier. You're not a hoe. You're very pretty."
You laughed quietly. "Thanks, Spencer."
He's gonna regret that in the morning.
You left his apartment and started downstairs on your own. You still felt gross. The strange man's hands on your body had freaked you out, and you couldn't stop thinking about what might have happened if you were there alone. You walked through your apartment to the bathroom, stripping off your clothes and starting the shower. Looking in the mirror, you couldn't help but laugh. Your makeup was smudged, small black circles had formed under your eyes, no doubt from all the sweaty dancing. Climbing into the tub, the warm water soothed your nervous muscles. You washed your body vigorously, trying to remove the ghost fingerprints of the man at the bar.