Work Text:
Working at a coffee shop at almost thirty wasn’t exactly what you’d planned when you’d envisioned your life as a teenager, but now that you were at that point?
Yep, still not what you wanted with your life.
Though, it did have its perks in the long run. Since the owner was given the Coffee Bean in his grandmother’s will and could care less about the place, you’d pretty much taken over the place and turned it into your own little coffee shop/bookstore. And you’d filled all the positions with competent, hard-working individuals so you had more time to work on your real passion: literally anything but coffee. You’d always preferred tea instead.
Still, it’s not like you never did any work at CB. You usually tried to work at least a couple shifts a week on top of all the managing. Which is the only reason you knew about the last perk: a seriously cute beanpole of a FBI agent named Spencer Reid that came and got two coffees on his way to work every morning.
You two had talked a couple times when you’d taken a morning shift. Not enough to know everything about one another, but enough to learn the basics, like his incredibly unhealthy coffee order. And the fact that you’d developed one hell of a crush on the guy. Which is why you weren’t at all surprised when Janet poked her head in your office and said, “He’ll be here in ten.”
You didn’t hesitate to push yourself away from all of the bills piled on your desk, pulling your hair into a messy bun and shoving a pen through while shutting the light off with your elbow. Janet laughed as she pulled off her apron, tossing it over for you to put on over the CB uniform you’d donned an hour ago. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?” She stated, an amused smile dancing across her lips.
“And you’re depending on me for a job, so shut up,” you shot back, sticking your tongue out at her.
She rolled her eyes, blonde curls bouncing as she shook her head. “You’re an asshole.”
“And you’ve got coffee to brew.” You straightened up, raised your eyebrows. “I look okay?”
“You look like you’ve been up since four this morning getting CB ready.” Janet tapped her wrist mockingly. “Seven minutes.”
You flipped her off before bustling over to the coffee machine. Five minutes later, you finished off two coffees that are more sugar than coffee and moved out front, smiling as Spencer Reid, FBI agent and your favorite sugarholic, strode through the doors.
Blessedly, there wasn’t a line because no one in their right mind would be up this early if they didn’t have to be, which meant you didn’t have to wait a second longer to talk to him. He opened his mouth to speak, already sliding his card across the table, but you cut him off before he could get the words out. “You really think I don’t know your order by now?” You teased, pulling his coffees out from behind the cash register. “I think I could make these babies in my sleep at this point.”
He laughed, cheeks flushing just the slightest. “Am I really that predictable?”
You raised an eyebrow, held up a finger, and poked your head into the kitchen. “Janet, what time does Spencer Reid get here every day?”
She doesn’t even glance at the clock above her to do the math. “Five fifty-two. Once it was five fifty-five and I almost called the police.”
Spencer blinks. “The fact that you guys have caught onto that is scary.”
You laughed as you swipe his card, totaled it up. “You’ve been coming here for coffee for two years, Spencer. It’s pretty hard not to notice.”
“None of my team members have realized I show up to work at the same time every day and they’re all profilers!”
“Or maybe they have and just haven’t mentioned it?”
He shook his head, smiling fondly. “No way. They would tease me if they’d noticed something as OCD as that.”
“You’re OCD? I had absolutely no idea,” you said sarcastically, smirking as you slid his card back over to him.
“You’re sarcastic? I definitely didn’t know that,” Spencer responded, mocking sarcasm dripping over his words. In that moment, you think maybe you fell a little bit in love with him. Or maybe in lust, because god, that was the single most hottest thing you’ve ever heard in your life. Only thing that could surpass it would be him cursing, or maybe groaning, or maybe-
“Yeah!” You squeaked, already feeling your cheeks heating up at where your mind had gone. “You know what? Shut up.” That made absolutely no sense. I hate myself.
He smiled, a wide grin that lit up his entire face. He smiled all the time, but those smiles? They were rare and made you fall harder and harder each time. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.”
And with that, he strode out of the coffee shop, leaving you alone to slide to the floor and stare at the wall. Oh god, you’ve got it so bad for him. It’s almost sad.
Janet entered the room in your peripheral. “You’re so desperate it’s sickening.”
“I think I’m in love,” you replied, still staring at the wall.
“So why haven’t you asked him out already?”
“Because I’m a sad, anxious, socially awkward mess and he will reject me within seconds. He’ll be sweet about it and try to let me down easily and then I’ll have to avoid him every time he walks through the door and then one day he’ll walk in with a wedding ring and I’ll still be all alone with only my cats and oh my god-”
“You’re spiraling again,” Janet said flatly as she moved over to the bookstore part of shop and began sorting through the books dropped in the donation box. “Also, he’s totally got a thing for you too, idiot.”
You snapped your head towards her, eyes narrowing. “And what makes you think that?”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s simple. For the last five months, he’s only mentioned a random fact a couple times.”
“And?”
Janet smirked. “And the only reason he wouldn’t be using facts is because he’s too distracted by you to rattle them off.”
Holy. Shit.
What if she’s right?
You blinked, mouth opening and shutting like a fish. “I’ve got to go after him.”
“Um, what? Wait, that’s not what I meant-” She began, concern wrinkling her eyebrows, but you were already up and rushing around the counter.
“I’ve got to because if I don’t now I’ll never do it. Hold down the fort for me!” And with that, you were out the door, sprinting down the street. The FBI base was just a couple blocks away, which means he couldn’t have gotten far.
You ran a couple minutes, desperately dodging the early morning joggers and barely there traffic until you saw his back. “Spencer!”
He froze, pausing a moment before turning around. “Y/N?”
You came to a stop in front of him, already feeling your hands shaking as you spit out, “Would you like to go to dinner sometime?”
He blinked. And then he blinked again. Your stomach sank as your nerves got the best of you. You shifted uncomfortably, pushing the hairs that had fallen out of your ponytail behind your ear. “I-I’m sorry, I was just-I knew I’d never get up the courage to ask if I didn’t do it now and-oh god, I definitely shouldn’t have done this, I’m so sorry-”
“Y/N, are you asking me on a date?” He interrupts, the corner of his lips twitching upwards.
You couldn’t even force the words out, just dumbly nodding. Nobody would believe you were almost thirty if they’d seen you in this moment, acting like an honest-to-god teenage girl.
And then he smiled. The full-on, light up the entire room smile that you so adored. “I’d love to go out to dinner with you.”
You could finally breathe again. “Oh thank god, I was afraid I was going to have to avoid you for the rest of my life,” you said, pulling a pen out of your bun and taking his coffee, scrawling your number across the top in an effort to seem chill. In your head though, your brain was screaming. Nothing concrete, just incomprehensible yells mixed with Spencer and YES and the occasional AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!
“I’m glad you don’t have to do that, then.”
You handed him back his coffee, shifting uncomfortably. “I should probably get back to work. But call me later and we can set something up?”
His eyes glittered with thinly veiled fondness at your antics. “Expect a call the second I get off work.”
“I’ll hold you to it.” And with that, you turned almost robotically and started walking away, trying to force back the squeal bubbling up in your throat. And it only got harder to swallow when you glanced over your shoulder and saw Spencer still standing there, inputting your number into his phone.
You couldn’t help but smile when you realized he was willingly going to be late for you.