piper

“Come on, man,” Derek said, arms folded as he stared Spencer down across the break room table. “You can’t just read a thousand relationship books and think that’s the same as the real thing.”

Spencer looked up from the folder in his lap, utterly unbothered. “Thirty-nine books. And they’re peer-reviewed studies. It’s not about anecdotes, it’s about data.”

Penelope leaned over her coffee, eyes sparkling. “Oh boy. He’s going full empirical. This should be good.”

“It’s not that I think I understand relationships,” Spencer continued, adjusting his glasses. “It’s just that I recognize functional dynamics when I see them. And I happen to know what one looks like.”

Derek snorted. “Yeah? Like what, The Notebook?”

“No,” Spencer said. “Like me and Y/N.”

There was a beat of silence.

Y/N, seated two chairs down with a half-drunk coffee in her hand, turned very slowly. “I’m sorry, what now?”

Spencer blinked at her like she’d asked if water was wet. “What?”

“What do you mean ‘you and me’?”

He frowned, confused. “I mean us. Our dynamic. It’s a prime example of a healthy relationship.”

Garcia dropped her muffin.

Derek leaned in like he was about to watch a car crash in slow motion. “Go on.”

Spencer tilted his head at Y/N. “You seriously didn’t know?”

She blinked. “Know what exactly?”

“That we’re in a relationship. Or— at least something adjacent to one. I assumed we were both aware of that.”

Y/N stared at him.

Spencer, sensing the disbelief, leaned back in his chair and began to list things off like he was briefing a case. “We text every night before bed. You bring me coffee the way I like it— three sugars, not stirred— almost every day, without asking. I’ve picked you up from the airport twice. You’ve stayed over at my apartment more than once, and you steal my hoodies.”

“That’s just…” She trailed off, looking helplessly at Garcia, who was frozen mid-bite.

Spencer wasn’t done.

“We hold hands when we walk across busy streets. You braid my hair when I’m stressed. I read you poetry once and you cried, which I took as a positive emotional response and not distress.”

Y/N slowly set her coffee down. “Okay.”

“I’ve memorized your Chipotle order,” Spencer added, like that sealed it.

“Okay.”

Spencer leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “We literally hold hands all the time.”

“…Okay, yeah, I see where I went wrong.”

Derek lost it.

Garcia was fanning herself with a napkin, whispering “my stars” under her breath.

Y/N looked like she was debating the moral and logistical weight of throwing herself into the nearest garbage can.

Spencer, meanwhile, just looked vaguely betrayed. “How did you not know?”

She gave him a look. “Because you never said it out loud?”

“I thought it was implied!”

Derek clapped once, loud. “Oh, I live for this.”

Garcia blinked. “Cool, so I’ve been third-wheeling a relationship that wasn’t even technically happening. Love that for me.”

Y/N turned back to Spencer, who was still trying to solve the mystery of how she missed this.

“Are you mad?” she asked.

“No,” he said, after a beat. “Just… surprised. I really thought we were on the same page.”

“Well.” She exhaled, slow and a little amused. “We are now.”

Spencer tilted his head. “Does this mean we’re officially dating?”

Y/N shrugged. “Statistically speaking?”

That got the smallest smile out of him.

“I’ll take it,” he said.

The case had been a public relations nightmare. The Unsub was leaving complex clues and evading being caught. With JJ speaking to a family, Hotch made Spencer talk to the press.

He had been previously rushing between the local police precinct and the nearest library to research the Unsub's references. Soft autumn breezes blew debris around the streets, and a stray leaf caught in his hair.

"Reid, wait." You caught him before we went back outside to be swarmed by cameras and microphones. With a hand, you smoothly reached and plucked the leaf from his hair. Spencer ducked away before the blush spreading on his face was visible.

Morgan walked by and teased something about him 'staying pretty for the cameras', but all Spencer could think about was you playing with his hair. As touch starved as he was, he would do anything for you to play with his hair.

ᝰ.ᐟ —————-

The second time made Spencer have to hide in the bathroom of a bar.

Just like every other time, the team went out for drinks after a hard case. Spencer sat with Emily and Morgan as they told stories, but he wasn't listening. Something about hearing them talk about past partners made the inside of Spencer's water glass look very interesting. That was, until you walked by.

With a drink in hand for Penelope, you walked behind him and ruffled his hair. He leaned his head into the touch, and played it off as him looking up when your hand pulled away. As you strolled back to your table, Spencer hoped it was dark enough that no one would see the pout and rising heat on his face.

He wasn't so lucky, however. Morgan kicked his shoe under the table, and grinned at him in a way that made him feel exposed. Spencer's chair scraped across the floor as he rushed to the bathroom. Cold water didn't do much to stop the tips of his ears from turning a shade of scarlet.

ᝰ.ᐟ —————-

The third time, Spencer was sure his brain short-circuited.

As always, he stood later into the night to finish up any paperwork Hotch or Rossi had left behind. You didn't usually stay late, but you also had some case files to finish putting together. You finished before him, and decided to say goodbye before you left.

Spencer looked up from the paperwork when he saw you standing in his peripheral vision. You brushed some of his hair out of his eyes before speaking about— well, Spencer didn't know, he focused back on the paperwork immediately, mumbling responses so you wouldn't see the flustered look on his face.

You patted him on the shoulder before slinging your bag over your shoulder. The both of you said your goodbyes, but Spencer didn't look back up until he heard the door close and he was sure you were gone. He sighed loudly, exhaling a breath he didn't know he was holding.

If you kept this up, these fleeting touches he craved so bad, he was sure he would explode.

ᝰ.ᐟ —————-

The last time was everything Spencer had dreamed of.

The very next morning, the team had been called to a case a few states away. On the jet, you and Spencer sat together. He stayed way later than he meant to doing paperwork, and he had barely been awake before the wheels of the jet went up. His eyes closed and he fell asleep almost immediately.

Spencer's head lolled onto your shoulder, and you smiled to yourself. The two of you stayed like that, until you brought your other hand into his hair and lightly scratched his scalp.

The second you started toying with his hair, he was awake. Spencer kept his eyes closed and pretended to still be asleep. He soaked up all of the attention you were willing to give him.