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"Atta boy," Morgan hooted, giving him a pat on the back. 

Rossi gave his shoulder a firm squeeze, "You did well, kid." Even Hotch gave a small smile, and a silent nod of approval.

"I feel kind of bad though," He admitted softly, licking his lips. "I want to keep it a surprise, so I couldn't tell her I was going off to wait in line for hours to buy tickets. I said I got caught up with a case over the weekend." He sighed. 

"Hey, man. Don't beat yourself up over it. You're doing something good by surprising her." Morgan reassured. 

"Exactly, she'll love it more if you surprise her, and you two lovebirds are going to have a great time," Emily piped up.

Spencer looked down at the tickets again, thoughtfully, then back up at the others, "I don't care about me. As long as she loves it, I'll be happy." 

"Aw," JJ cooed, "you two are adorable."

"Pretty boy's in love," Morgan's teased, ruffling his hair.

"Hey!," Spencer laughed, swatting Morgan's hand away, but he knew Morgan was right, and Spencer wasn't ashamed to admit it, either. 

He really was in love with you. 

Of course, once a certain glitter pen and bracelet wielding technical analyst caught wind of her fellow co-workers' plans, she was more than happy to offer her services.

Obviously, this wasn't the first time that Spencer had surprised you with gifts or dates at random, but he was anxious to make this particular surprise extra special. Though - admittedly, that was something he said each time he surprised you.

Two craft stores later ("We need to find the perfect paint colour!" Garcia had said), a copious amount of glitter that bordered on concerning (Spencer internally consoled himself over the thought that he'd be finding specks of glitter around the apartment for months to come) and a few hours' worth of careful deliberation over placement, everything was ready.

"Well, my work here is done." Garcia announced, hands on her hips as she admired their work with pride. 

"Thanks for your help Penelope," he offered gratefully, "I just hope she'll like it." 

She spun on her heels to face him, "Oh, my sweet boy. she won't just like it. She'll love it." 

He bit his lip, a nervous habit of his, "You sure?" 

She nodded empathetically, "Oh, absolutely. Otherwise, I will have failed my duty as a connoisseur of spectacular surprises, which would leave me with no choice but dwindle away as a tech lackey for the government." 

"We're lucky to have you, either way." He laughed. 

"Of course, haven't you heard? I'm the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow." She shuffled over to collect her purse, "But alas, this pot of gold must bid you adieu." 

He followed Penny down the hallway, opening the door for her, "I expect a full debrief of her reaction tomorrow, too." 

 "Of course, I'll be ready for your interrogation." He agreed, saluting her. 

"You best be, boy genius." She brandished her purse with a wave, "Go forth and conquer thy love's heart!" She called back over her shoulder.

You arrived home from work a few hours later, the front door opening with a soft click and a sigh of relief from you, the quietness and coziness of your apartment a far cry from everything that laid just beyond the threshold. Your shoes were slid off your feet and tucked underneath the small bench that sat in the entrance way with an absent-minded ease that only came with the kind of familiarity that allowed you to feel comfortable in your surroundings. A feeling that, for you, was often only wholly felt when with Spencer.

You reached down to rub at the tender spots of each sole through the fabric of your stockings. It had been a long day, and you were practically feverish at the prospect of being able to do away with all of its' misgivings to instead make room for a warm cup of coffee and a tv show to unwind. Possibly a snack as well - in your mind, you were already eyeing that pint of vanilla ice-cream in the freezer.

You reach up to slide your key into its' place on the hook, and your eyes caught sight of Spencer's already there. Hm, he didn't tell me he was coming home early today, You thought, but quickly brushed off it off as a welcomed happenstance. 

"Spencer?" You called his name - no answer, just the faint creak of a chair. You figured he was probably at the dining table in the kitchen, too focused on case files brought home from work or something of the like to pay much mind to his surroundings. 

"Hey, I did know you'd be home early," you called again as you walked down the hallway, and turned around just as you reached the kitchen to open the storage closet, stuffing your umbrella inside. "Today was such a busy day, ugh, I could use some coffee right now pl-," You cut yourself when you turned around, and saw it. 

The small kitchen of your shared apartment had become the backdrop of his surprise - you didn't know where to look first. On the small, circular dining table, propped up by a stack of books was a large piece of cardstock, with "Will you be my dancing queen?"  written in blue paint, adorned with gemstones and glitter to match. In front of the sign was a envelope,  and next to that were a plate of cupcakes, decorated with blue icing and sprinkles, mini mirror balls to top each one off. Pale blue and silver balloons had been taped to the ceiling, streamers tied to the handles of the cupboards. 

And there, Spencer stood proudly amongst it all, holding a party blower to his lips, with that kind of boyish smile on his face that made you want to kiss him silly. 

"What - what is all this?" You laughed breathlessly, setting your bag on the kitchen counter. 

"Surprise?" He spoke up - voice muffled a bit around the party blower - but his tone made it sound more like a question. Ever the profiler (if not highly attentive boyfriend) his eyes flickered over your face, trying to gauge your reaction.

"Spencer. Spence. My beloved," you stepped forward, reaching to gently tug the party blower from his mouth, "did I unknowingly get amnesia and forget that today had some kind of significance?" 

He grinned, "I don't believe so. And no - this day isn't anything special - well, apart from being able to spend it with you." 

You rolled your eyes playfully, "Smooth."

Spencer tugged you forward and into his arms, "You are my special girl. Better believe it." he muttered, squeezing you gently.

"Ooh, scary," You pulled away with a giggle, poking his nose.

"Hey- hey, I am scary! I'm an FBI agent." he complained, but the way his nose scrunched up to an adorable extent betrayed him.

"Mhm-hmm," You hum, totally unconvinced. You stepped back fully, eyes sweeping the room again, "So? what is this all for?" 

"You don't have any guesses?" His gaze follows yours around the room, before returning to your face, "I was pretty spot on with the theming."  

"Well, if the sign gives anything away, I'd say...ABBA related?" 

He nodded intently, "Getting warmer, smart girl." He praised.

"C'mon, out with it already,"  You huffed, and Spencer giggled at your impatience - before passing you the envelope from the table.

"Fine, but only because I can't wait to see your reaction." 

The envelope was adorned with your name in his careful calligraphy. You took a moment to admire it, finger tracing over the ink. Each careful stroke was just another visualizer - small, but still meaningful - of how much time Spencer took in everything he did for you. You gently pried the envelope open, not rushing or tearing it. It might sound silly, but you wanted to take your time, to reflect the time that he put into doing this for you. 

When the seal finally opened - you saw the tickets. "No way," you breathed, eyes widening, you looked up him. "You didn't." 

Spencer nodded eagerly, "Yes, I did. And look - tickets to a tribute show, too. Same weekend." 

"Really?" you gasped, "I was gonna...gonna ask if we could go see the movie after it came out, I didn't think you'd actually get tickets beforehand, and do all...this." You waved a hand over the room. 

"I wanted to do something to make it special." 

Your cheeks heated up, "Well, I feel pretty special right now." 

"You like it?" He asked softly, his hazel eyes big and hopeful. 

Your heart practically melted at the sight of boyfriend, puppy-eyed and seeking your approval when all you could think was that this was the sweetest surprise that he'd conjured up for you - which was saying something, because he had certainly set the bar high.

You stood up on your tip-toes, cupping his cheek, "This is beautiful, Spence. I love it. I love you." You reassured, punctuating your words with a series of pecks to his lips. 

"I love you too," He whispered, skin pink. As you moved to pull away, he caught your hip, pulling you back to land a proper kiss to your mouth.

You giggled, letting yourself melt into the moment. Or several moments. 

When you did finally pull away, you looked back down at the envelope still clutched in your hand. "You really got tickets?" You asked again, like you had to check it was real. 

He nodded, "Yep, two. So we can go together. Or- unless, of course, you want it to be a girls night thing with one of your friends, that's fine-," 

"Of course I want to go with you," you interrupted, "Why wouldn't I?" 

He looked as though he wasn't expecting you to ask him that. "I- uh, I don't know, I thought maybe you'd want to spend a couple nights away from me," He shrugged, an attempt to brush it off, but you caught the way his eyes flickered away from yours, and he bit his lip. 

You shook your head, "Hey, no. Why wouldn't I want to go with my amazing, sweet boyfriend who did all this for me?" You murmured 

He shrugged, "Penelope helped," he mumbled

"I should've known this had Pen's work written all over it," you huffed, fingers tracing over the glitter on the poster, "How long are we going to find glitter in random places?" You asked, trying to lighten the mood

"Months," He sighed, but the corners of mouth quirked up. 

"Of course," You shook your head with a smile, then looked at him again, "I want to with you. I'm serious." 

"I'm really not going to be offended if you'd rather go with one of your friends, you know. I'm- I'm not the kind of boyfriend that has to be attached to the hip. Like, maybe I want to be. But I don't have to be. If that's what you wanted." 

"I know," You nodded, "but, I want you. I want you to come with me." 

He hummed in resignation, "Sorry - this is your surprise, I didn't mean to make it all about me," He sighed. 

You shook your head, "No, I want you to be honest with me. 'Cause than I can reassure you about just how much I want you. And how much I love you." 

"Okay," He said quietly, and you reached over to squeeze his hand, reassuring.

"Now, I think, it's about time we watch some tv, and start on these cupcakes, don't you?" You picked up the plate from the table, with an encouraging smile

Spencer took your cue with a tentative smile, "Oh, yes! I can make coffee," he suggested, already scrambling for mugs.

You really hadn't meant to get this drunk. At least, that's what you told yourself. Or tried to tell yourself. In the dim lighting of the theatre - besides the glare of rainbow coloured stage lights - with music so loud, you could feel it pulsing in your veins, it was hard to think.

The numerous fruity concoctions that you'd had over the course of the night had no relevance to your predicament, obviously. 

Spencer had scored standing tickets, so the two of you had a close up view of the stage and tribute band. It was safe to say, you were having the time of your life 

He stood a few steps behind you, giving you room to move, but still allowing himself to keep an eye on you. Your bag was slung over his shoulder, which had been passed onto him at the start of the night - your shoes, which he now held  in one hand, had followed soon after. 

He couldn't help admire you - in a silver sparkly dress that you'd bought just for the occasion ("I'll look like a mirror ball!" you'd giggled excitedly when you'd shown him a week earlier), paired with a white feather boa and silver jewelry, swaying and singing to the music. And, that look of happiness on your face that Spencer had only hoped - and was now all too glad - to see when he planned this for you. 

The song finished playing, the band taking an small break. You twirled around, dazedly, finding him in the dim lighting. He watched your face morph into concentration, or some form of it, eyes trained to the floor as you put one foot in front of the other to get to him. 

His arms stretched out for you when you wobbled a bit, hands cupping either side of you to gently pull you back upright. "You okay, sweetheart?" He questioned softly. 

"Mhm. Just missed you." 

He nodded understandingly, "Having fun though?" 

"Absolutely," you giggle, "but I wanna kiss," a pout forms, batting your eyelashes as you tried to reach his face. Coordination was not on your side, however - you missed his mouth, lips haphazardly bumping into his chin instead.

Spencer's eyes were filled with silent laughter, "You alright there, pretty girl?" 

"You're too tall." Your hand reaches up to tug his tie, "C'mere," you pleaded 

"You sure it didn't have something to do with those cocktails?" 

"I don't know what you're talking about." You give another small but insistent tug to his tie.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Here, let me just..." his voice trails off as he scoops you up into his arms, holding you snugly against him, "Better?" 

"Better." You affirmed, sounding pleased with the new arrangement, arms wrapping around his neck.

"There we go," He uses one hand to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face, while the other still holds you up securely. "Sweet thing."

You felt warm. Not just from dancing and singing, or from the number of cocktails you'd had, but from...him. 

Because up-close, a breath away from each other as you were, Spencer was so so so achingly pretty. Soft hazel orbs - flecked with green and brown - gazed down at you, brown hair carefully brushed away from his face like always, delicate jawline, soft lips that were oh so kissable-

"Hey, sweetheart, you with me?" Spencer's voice broke through your thoughts. 

"Oh - sorry, I'm here. Hi." You murmur, offering a sheepish smile.

"Hi," He murmured back, hand moving to rub your back, "thought I'd lost you for a second there."  

"Just thinking."

"About what? What's going on in that pretty head, hm?"

"You're- you're just really pretty." Your voice softens, "and I'm having like, the best night ever, and I feel really special and just- ugh, stop looking at me like that," you broke off into a  whine, seeing the way he was looking at you, and hid your face in his shoulder instead. 

Spencer smiled, "Like what, angel?" 

"Like you love me."

He scoffed, almost sounding offended at the mere though. Which, if anyone else suggested such a thing, he probably would be, but since it's you - drunk and sweet in his arms - he can't hide the amusement in his tone, "I'm never gonna stop that." His tone was firm, a promise.

Then - the song Angel Eyes started playing, and he watched as your face perked up once more, "Oh, this reminds me of you." 

"You know, this song doesn't have the most positive connotations," he pointed out.

You shrugged, "you have angel eyes." 

He shook his head, fond, "Thank you, sweetheart," He murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss to your head, to which you hummed happily in response.

"Love you angel eyed boy," you whispered, words slurring together.

"Love you too, angel eyed girl."

psa: if you enjoyed, please comment and reblog!! (and with the new update, it would be really helpful to do so with this original post, however please don't feel like you have to) thank you sm 🫶🫶