description: spencer and reader are enjoying cherry blossom season
warnings: none really, except this is SUPER self-indulgent, also maybe dumb tourists?
author's note: first (posted) fic in honor of cherry blossom season! let’s see how this goes!
He's back on a rare day off after spending nine days on a brutal case in Oregon. Luckily, it's the middle of a weekday, so the crowds aren't as large as they would have been if we had gone during the weekend. You are both walking hand-in-hand along the Tidal Basin. The trees have finally bloomed, the flowers of the cherry blossoms stretching above, their petals rustling in the wind coming off the river.
It's not your first year going to see the cherry blossoms, but it is the first time Spencer wasn't away on a case during peak bloom. You are almost skipping alongside him, giddy to have the chance to be together and enjoy the beginning of spring.
"Did you know that peak bloom is when 70% of the trees' buds have opened?" Spencer asks. You smile, listening to Spencer talk is one of your favorite things to do.
"No, I didn't know that."
"Once they are opened, the blossoms usually last only 7-10 days. However, it is usually dependent on weather conditions. For example, the cold snap that we are experiencing right now," he adjusts the purple scarf around his neck, "will help maintain the integrity of the blossoms, giving us a few additional days of the trees in bloom."
He continues, "The first cherry blossom trees were proposed by a member of the National Geographic Society to Helen "Nellie" Taft, President Taft's wife. After the two decided to plant the trees along the Basin, a Japanese consul in visiting D.C. donated approximately 2,000 trees."
You hum, taking in the trees.
"Unfortunately, when the trees arrived in 1910, the Department of Agriculture discovered they were infested with insects. Taft had to make the tough decision to burn all the trees to prevent further infestation."
"Oh no," you respond, upset over the thought of such beautiful trees being burned. "That's almost as sad as when they removed Stumpy last year! He was such an iconic tree."
He glances at you and your reaction, squeezing your hand. "It's okay. Shortly thereafter, the mayor of Tokyo donated 3,020 trees to make up for the loss as a symbol of friendship between the two countries. First Lady Taft and the Japanese ambassador's wife planted the first two saplings right over there. " He points to a plaque around the bend. "Some of these trees are over 100 years old."
You smile up at him. "Well, I'm glad it all worked out, it's one of my favorite times of the year. However, I wish the trees were as pink as they look in all those Instagram influencer pictures."
He chuckles. "I know. Pink is one of your favorite colors. But it's actually a misconception that all cherry blossom trees are pink. This particular kind of tree, the Yoshino cherry, actually produces almost white blooms."
As he is talking, you take out your old Polaroid camera and quickly snap a photo of him while he is talking.
"Hey!" he exclaims, not expecting to have his picture taken.
"Sorry! You just look so cute with the blossoms behind you. Don't be mad at me," you grin sheepishly.
He smiles back, not a trace of malice in his eyes. "Well, you can make it up to me by letting me take a picture of you. That way we can both have one."
Even though you hate having your photo taken, you shrug, "It's only fair."
He takes your camera, gently holding it, even though it's over a decade old. You go sit on the edge of the sidewalk, letting your feet dangle over the edge of the water, the Jefferson Memorial positioned in the distance.
You notice him struggling with the camera. You try to help him through the throng of people passing between you, "Just press the button on the front, there, and rotate the lens till the little sun lights up. Then, look through the viewfinder and press the round upper button once you are ready." His ineptitude with technology makes you giggle a little.
He fiddles with the camera for a couple of seconds. "Okay, I think I got it," he says, holding up the camera.
You smile, feeling exposed, as a few tourists graciously stop to allow him to take the photo. After what feels like ages, a flash finally goes off. You hop up quickly, thanking a mother barely holding back a pair of toddlers from photobombing you.
She smiles at you and Spencer, "You two make such a cute couple."
You grin back, "Thank you, I think so, too."
Spencer blushes, easily turning pinker than the trees. He stands there awkwardly, holding the camera and the Polaroid out to you.
You take the image from his hands, watching it develop. "Wow, smart and a great photographer. Is there anything you can't do?"
He shakes his head. "You are totally biased." He points to the corner of the picture. "I think that smudge is my finger."
"Well, that's your signature. Makes it more valuable."
He shakes his head smiling, "Whatever you say."
You two walk for a little while longer, taking a break to feed the handful of ducks swimming around. You watch the tourists take photos around you, getting dangerously close to the river's edge.
"Hey Spence, how many people do you think fall into the Potomac every cherry blossom season?"
He gives you a perplexed look, "Hm, I'm actually not sure."
You gasp, "What?! There's a statistic that the Spencer Reid doesn't know!"
"Well, that’s not exactly a statistic that comes up in government reports."
You throw another handful of oats to the ducks, "But is got to be at least five."
"Maybe... If I extrapolate using data that 1.6 million people came to D.C. last year to see the cherry blossoms, plus the number of DMV residents that-"
"Well, uh yes, it is probably at least five," he concedes as you brush crumbs from your hands.
A gust of wind blows through the trees, shaking petals loose like a cloud of pink-white snow. You look around in awe, the scenery feeling like a scene in a movie. But Spencer can only look at you, almost oblivious to the beauty around him. Suddenly, he grabs your face between your hands, causing you to gasp.
"You have something," he whispers as he concentrates on gently brushing your hair, carefully pinching a petal between his fingers. He holds it up to you, "Make a wish?"
You squeeze your eyes close, thinking hard, before opening them and blowing the petal away. You both spend the next few seconds grinning at each other like idiots before some unaware tourists bumps into you, bringing you back to reality. You grab his hand and begin the long trek back towards the nearest Metro station.
"You wanna know what I wished for?" you ask him.
"What? No, you can't tell me! Then your wish won't come true.”
You laugh, giving his shoulder a little nudge. "You're too superstitious, Spence."
"Well, my superstitions and mismatched socks have kept me alive so far, thank you very much."
"Fair point. But my wish was only that we can do this every year for the next 100 years."
He bends down to kiss your head, "Well, that's a wish I'm sure I can make come true."
thank you so much for reading!