Spencer Reid; 2019
As a man of science, Spencer Reid believes in the careful analysis of events, the forming of a hypothesis, and the running of experiments. Over his nearly four decades of life, he has come to one simple conclusion: morning people were oddities of nature and should not be allowed to subject others to their antics at four in the morning.
This conclusion is at the forefront of his mind as he sits criss-cross applesauce on the floor of Garcia’s office, facing JJ, who is chatting about the protein shake she’d had before her morning run yesterday, and then the mixed fruit and vegetable salad she’d had for breakfast.
Penelope was busy typing away on her laptop, (albeit tiredly), and so Spencer was left alone in this death-trap of a conversation, and he wondered if this is what it was like for everyone else when he went on one of his long-winded rambles. The main difference being, he usually wasn’t rambling to people at quarter past four in the morning.
“-and then last Christmas Will and I bought each other subscriptions to the fancy gym up past that new hotel by the bank, you know the one. Anyway, the new protein-based diet combined with the online personal trainer regime that we sync to our phones allow us to-“
“Jayje, I love you, but it is way too early to hear about your fitness routine. I think Boy Wonder zoned out about four anecdotes ago.” Penelope grumbled, tired eyes opening only long enough to glare at JJ, who rolled her eyes in response.
“Pen, it’s not that early. Ever since Michael’s been sleeping through the night fully, I get up at four for my runs. Oh come on guys, don’t look at me like that, Morgan got me into the habit years ago. A healthy body leads to a healthy mind.”
Spencer couldn’t think of anything he’d hate more than 4am runs around the city parks, but he wasn’t about to tell JJ that, because it would only lead to another lecture about how one couldn’t survive on coffee and cereal alone, which he personally disagreed with. Coffee and cereal got him through high school, college, and his entire adult life thus far.
“You and Morgan are just weird jocks.” He mumbled into his hand, which he was using to prop up his sleep-heavy head.
“Oh, you’re lucky he doesn’t work here anymore.” JJ teased. “He’d have you on those morning runs quicker than you can read War and Peace for that comment."
Spencer was preparing to reply when Penelope’s computer gave a loud ‘ping!’, which piqued his attention.
“What’s that? Can we start working now and not listen to Ms Marathon over here?”
That earned him a fond smack on the arm from JJ and a giggle from Penelope, who had begun typing away furiously once again. A few moments later and he had his answer.
“Okay! Emily, Luke and Tara have arrived in Dallas and we have been given official orders to begin! Get ready, my dears, for a heavy morning’s work.”
It was an unusual day at the BAU for myriad reasons. For one, the aforementioned three team members were conducting a series of prison interviews with serial killers who pleaded guilty and yet still aim to overturn a death penalty sentence. JJ, Spencer, and Penelope were to gather any intel and attempt to develop a general profile at Quantico, which would be finalised next Monday when the rest of the team return. It was only the three of them, as Matt had taken the day off for his youngest kid’s graduation from kindergarten. But what truly made the day unusual, however, was the absence of Rossi.
In all the years that Spencer had worked with the man (and it was well over a decade now), he can only remember him taking 6 days off of his own accord. No one could blame him though, for wanting to use one of his holiday days to be with his grandson, who was turning eight. As Spencer thought of Rossi’s now fully grey head of hair, and the ache that he himself was getting from sitting cross-legged for so long, it served as a stark reminder that none of them were as young as they used to be.
With age, however, came not resignation, but familiarity.
As they hunkered down to work, Spencer and JJ spread their paperwork across the floor between them; files focusing on media reports and family statements on JJ’s side, and autopsies and ME reports on Spencer’s side, with the rest lying somewhere in the middle. Penelope, sat high above them both on her significantly more comfortable office chair, handled both unsub’s and victim’s family and financial histories.
The three of them, the only BAU members in the whole building right now, moved and worked in such perfect tandem that it seemed like true clockwork. As soon as Spencer was finished with a crime scene photo analysis, JJ would slide him the adjoining witness statements, and he in turn would hand her information on the victim’s background that Garcia gave to him mere seconds before. It was a system that had been developed during early mornings and late nights working exactly like this, over the course of nearly fifteen years.
Spencer loves these days, much more than he ever thought he would at the tender age of twenty-two, when all he wanted was to be in the field like a ‘real’ FBI agent. These quiet paperwork days, working together like this, had been the foundation of two of the most powerful friendships he had the privilege of experiencing. He treasures times like these, when no one is getting shot at, or kidnapped (or both). When they’re safe and warm and, due to the early hour, slightly sleepy.
So much has changed for them in the past decade and a half, but the friendship between the three of them has not. It has survived shootings and deaths and resurrections and lies and has only come out stronger. As JJ reaches over to pluck a finished file from his hands before he could even begin to reach over to her, a thought, unbidden, rose up into his mind:
I love them.
It’s not a particularly startling revelation; they are, after all, what he imagines two sisters would be like if he wasn’t an only child. They had been with him through thick and thin, particularly during these last few years. These past couple years, where his mind and soul were more damaged then he could possibly have predicted, and he spent hours upon hours wondering if he would ever truly feel happiness again.
But here, now, holed up in Garcia’s office, a place that seemed to radiate safety, he does. Happiness does not burst out of him, as it does Penelope, in her clothes and her hair and her hugs. Nor like JJ, with her calming words and fierce loyalty. His happiness lies in the way Penelope unconsciously ruffles his hair as she passes by him to reach the photocopier, in the way JJ teases him every few minutes about his godawful handwriting, even though it’s the same letters she’d been staring at for the better part of fifteen years.
His happiness comes from allowing himself to bask in this glorious friendship, a part of life that he never thought he would one day be allowed to indulge in.
“Damn.”
JJ’s voice interrupts the serene quiet that they were working in, drawing concerned stares from the room's other two occupants.
“What’s wrong?”
JJ sighs deeply, rubbing her temples in frustration. “My babysitter for tonight just cancelled. She’s in New York and her flight back to DC was moved to tomorrow. Will and I were planning on going out for his birthday, but… I guess not. Damnit.”
Spencer and Penelope only had to share a half-second look before JJ was scolding them.
“No. You two are not babysitting tonight. For one, it’s a school night, and you are both awful at making my boys go to sleep on time. Also, you two already look dead on your feet and it’s not even six in the morning, imagine how wrecked you’ll be by seven this evening.”
“JJ, I resent the implication that we in any way spoil Henry and Michael-“
“PG, you bought them a $1000 Lego set last Christmas.”
“Well, it was the Death Star, and it was awesome.”
“Spence, be on my side in this, please.”
“Jennifer Jareau.” Penelope said, kneeling down and grabbing JJ by the shoulders. “You are going out for a fancy dinner tonight, while me and Spencer will be incredibly responsible adults and make sure the boys eat their veggies and go to bed by nine. Have we ever let you down?”
Spencer grinned at that. It was an unfair card for Penelope to play, since there was no way that JJ could claim they had ever disappointed her before. After a few seconds of debate in her mind, she let out a resigned sigh, and nodded her head in defeat.
“Yes! Reid and I are gonna make the best blanket forts with them tonight.”
“Garcia-“
“And put them to bed by nine, as promised.” Spencer quickly interjected, before Penelope could put her foot in her mouth again and get their babysitting privileges revoked.
With that dilemma sorted (and Spencer was immeasurably glad that child minding turned out to be the biggest predicament of their current case), work began again. The rhythmic sound of Penelope typing of the keyboard, and the rustle of pages being turned fill the air.
Before long, it was nearing eight o’clock, and an appropriate time for a proper breakfast. And by ‘proper’, Spencer of course meant leftover snacks from the kitchenette and some coffee. He stood up, knees creaking in protest which irritated him, and asked for the girls’ breakfast orders.
Like him, Penelope asked for some of yesterday’s leftovers and a mug of tea, while JJ mentioned that she left her salad in the top right shelf. Spencer was just about to exit the door when he heard JJ’s voice from behind him, predictable as ever.
“Maybe some water instead of coffee, yeah, Spence?”
As usual, he just smiled in return, and she rolled her eyes. This was their routine, and the familiarity brought a level of comfort that he basks in every time it occurs.
He loves these people, so, so goddamn much.