Work Text:
“Amazing Coffee for the huge loser in the corner,” I shout out, a grin stretched across my face. The man stood, a magnetic smile on his face, and walked over to the counter.
“Is that any way to talk to a loyal customer, Y/n,” He says, taking the black coffee (with like 6 sugars) and bringing it to his lips. I lean down onto the counter in front of me, resting my chin on my hands.
I roll my eyes in response, “What are you gonna do? Report me to the manager?”
He smirks up at me, knowing good and well that I own the little coffee shop that we’re currently standing inside of. “That and all of the other patrons might take offence,” He gestures to the empty cafe.
A laugh erupts from my chest, “We’re only empty because it’s after hours, you’re the only one that drinks coffee at this time of day, Spence.”
“We get it, you’re successful,” Spencer says, a smile still playing on his lips, “And I’m not the only one that drinks coffee at night thank you.”
“Oh yeah?” I say teasingly, raising an eyebrow in question, “Tell me, who else is drinking coffee right now?”
“Well, statistically speaking,” He begins and it's almost as if he catches himself, and he stumbles for a moment, “With there being seven billion people alive right now, there is bound to be at least one other person drinking coffee.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm,” he says breathily, stifling his laugh, he leans down onto the counter too so that our faces are level.
I rake my bottom lip between my teeth, his eyes watch the action intently, “I’ll have to take your word for it, pretty boy,” I say, reaching up to ruffle his hair.
“I like to think you’re the pretty one,” He says smoothly, “Must be why I keep coming back to this god awful coffee.”
My mouth drops open with a gasp, “How… DARE.. you, Spencer!” I shout, taking the cup of coffee out of his hands, “You’re not allowed to have my amazing coffee anymore, I will ban you.”
He lets out a hearty chuckle that makes my heart squeeze with affection and takes the coffee out of my hands again, “I was joking, it’s my favourite coffee.”
“That’s much better,” I say a grin spreading across my face, “How was work?”
“Long,” He says, taking another sip, “I’m just glad to be home. I missed my bed.”
“And me,” I finish for him, giving him a wink.
He nods his head bashfully, “Yes and you.”
“Where did you go?” I ask rounding the bench and begin packing away the rest of the furniture for the night.
“Florida,” he says, grimacing.
“Oh gross,” I say with a laugh, “What was happening there?”
“Nothing really,” He says quickly, “How’s the shop been? Uneventful without me dropping in at,” He checks his watch, “Seven-thirty?”
“Same old, same old,” I say waving my hand, “Can you throw me the spray and wipe?” And he does, “We had one guy come in on Tuesday morning completely hammered, he could barely stand, I had to ask him to leave.”
“You okay?” Spencer asks, walking over to hand me the tools and I begin to wipe down the tables.
“Yeah, but he was freaking out my employees, kept talking about the FBI and stuff,” I huff, “He must have been drinking at the Bar across from Quantico and walked down the street to try and have breakfast here. But I didn’t like the vibe I was getting from him and neither did the girls that were working so I asked him to leave.”
“What was he saying?” He asks, voice completely serious.
I wave my hand, “Just saying things like the FBI, only consisted of robots and people who wanted the world to burn. You know normal conspiracy theorist stuff.” I laugh. Spencer doesn’t. In fact, I can practically feel his discomfort radiating off him. I finish the table I'm on and turn around to face him, “What’s wrong?”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, he left pretty quickly, I wasn’t too worried. I think a couple of my regulars are agents so I wasn’t too worried that he would get violent,” I say, letting him know that it’s not something that was bothering me.
He nods his head and leans against the counter once more letting me finish my cleaning.
After finishing it all up, I throw the spray and wipe into the back room, and walk back out to Spencer. “What’s your plans for the night?”
“I’m about to head home,” Spencer says, finishing his coffee and handing the cup back over to me, “Why?”
“I was planning on a quiet night,” I say honestly, placing the cup into the sink for the morning crew to deal with, “But if you didn't have any plans, did you want to stay here a little longer? My apartment is upstairs.”
When I was looking at a place to start my business, I remember meeting the landlord, who loved me and offered to rent me the place above it for a decreased rate if I accompanied both places, and I was quick to jump on the offer. I knew how convenient it was to be so close to my workplace and it was in a prime part of town. And quite honestly I loved the place before I even stepped into the space. It was a fairly small apartment, pretty much entirely open plan except for the bathroom, and a small space that I had turned into my study. My bedroom, living area and kitchen were all connected, with no walls separating them. And I loved it that way.
“Yeah sure,” He says, following me around and up to my apartment.
“This is where the magic happens,” I say opening the door and gesturing for him to enter, “And by magic I mean the cooking and sleeping kind.”
Spencer lets out a hearty chuckle. He throws his eyes around my apartment, and they land on my coffee table, which is littered with books. “I didn’t know you were a reader.”
I nod my head, “I love it, it lets me relax before I sleep. What about you?”
“You could say that I enjoy it,” He says taking a seat on my sofa and pick’s up the book that was on the top of the stack, C.S Lewis’ “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland”. “I’ve read this one before, it is speculated that Lewis was actually experimenting with hallucinogenic drugs when he wrote the book. So it’s not really the innocent story that it seems like originally.”
“Okay, wow, how did you know that?” I ask, impressed with his knowledge of the book.
Spencer adverts his gaze, “I think I read it in a journal once.”
I take off my coat and come to sit down next to him, sitting on it sideways, so that I can face him. “So you’re a smartie,” I say giggling.
He places the book back down and turns to me, “My coworkers like to call me the resident genius,” He says, almost as if he wasn’t sure what he was saying.
“Wow, impressive,” I say smiling up at the man, “What other things do you know?”
“You’re going to need to be more specific,” He says facing me, “I know a lot about a lot of things. That’s kind of my job.”
“What?” I ask, slightly shocked, “What do you do?”
“I’m with the FBI,” Spencer says, voice laced with self-consciousness, “I’m with the Behavioral Analysis Unit.”
“Spencer!” I say enthusiastically, “That is so cool! Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“I didn’t want to freak you out, it’s a pretty intimidating job, and I didn’t want to lose you,” He says honestly, placing a hand onto the one I have rested on the top of the sofa.
I take his hand in mine, “I am continually surprised and impressed by you mister Spencer Reid.”
“It’s actually doctor,” He smirks, his confidence building.
“Sorry, Doctor Spencer Reid,” I giggle, “so tell me, mister FBI, what’s it like?”
Spencer rolls his eyes, “It’s not as fun as you would think.”
I nod my head, listening to him tell me about his job. It’s almost like a different version of Spencer appears as he talks animatedly about each of his coworkers and what it is that he does. “And my eidetic memory helps me remember all of the things I need for cases.”
“Okay, when you said that they call you a genius you weren’t joking.”
The blush rises in his cheeks and Spencer bites his lip softly. “This isn’t freaking you out?”
“No, Spence,” I say shifting so that I’m closer to him, “Not at all, it’s incredibly attractive.”
His eyes flick down to my lips, and before either of us could make a move, his phone lets out a loud ring. To which Spencer groans and throws his head back, fishing it out of his pocket. “Sorry, it’s work,” he confesses.
“It’s fine, answer,” I say, smiling at him.
“Hello Garcia,” He begins, and I get up and walk away, to give him a little privacy.
“I’m actually with a friend,” He says, his gaze drifting to me, “Is he sure? Okay, I’ll get back to you. Bye.” He hangs up and stands, crossing the room so that he’s in front of me, “What we’re your plans for the night again?”
I look at him sceptically, “I was spending time with you, why?”
“Would you like to come to dinner with my coworkers, well they’re more like my family, because I spend so much time with them,” He starts rambling obviously nervous.
“Yeah, I would love to come, Spence,” I cut him off, “You want to drive or me?”
Tension releases from his shoulders and he beam at me, “I’ll drive.”
Once in the car, Spencer tells me that his whole team is having a group dinner, a kind of team bonding session. He briefed me on each of the members, trying to help as much as he can.
“You know I can take you back home if you’ve changed your mind, I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” He says as we pull up in front of the impressive mansion, and turns the car off.
“Spencer Reid,” This draws his attention towards me, his eyes lock with mine, “I’m excited to meet them, no need to be worried.”
He nods his head and we exit the car and walk up to the door. Spencer rings the doorbell and is quickly back at my side. Nerves begin to bubble in my chest, until hours ago I didn’t even know who these people were, and they most definitely didn't know me. What if they don’t like me? Or that I’m not welcome or don't fit in? I don’t think Spencer would stop being friends with me over that, but my growing feelings for the man would complicate the situation. It’s almost as if Spencer can feel my doubts, as his hand reaches down to join with mine, he squeezes it softly.
“Thank you, pretty boy,” I say, throwing him a wink. The door opens to reveal a man, with a cloth tossed over his shoulder.
“Ey, Reid,” The man says, pulling a laughing Spencer in for a hug, and a kiss to each of his cheeks.
“Rossi,” Spencer says, stepping back, “This is Y/n.” He gestures to me.
“Hi,” I say softly, extending my hand out to shake his. But instead, the man wraps me in a hug and I let out a surprised laugh and hug him back.
“Sorry I’m a hugger, I’m David Rossi, but please call me Dave,” He says once he releases me. “Come in, Come in. We were just about to pour the wine.”
We make our way into the large kitchen and I notice the group of people stood around the island. Their laughter and conversations subside as they notice our presence. My eyes flick over the group. Each of them wears a matching expression, surprise, eventually my eyes make it to a familiar face.
“Wait, JJ?” I say, my face breaking out into a grin. The woman makes her way over to us and wraps me in a hug, which I return quickly. Once we release, she hits Spencer’s arm softly.
“Why didn’t you tell me you knew, Y/n?” JJ says accusatory.
“Wait, how do you know each other?”
I let out a giggle, “JJ was my first customer when I opened my shop, and now shes my second most regular customer, I can always guarantee that she will come in and order her black coffee as soon as I open the shop.”
“Hey, I can’t help that the coffee is so good,” JJ says, shrugging.
“So you know JJ and Spencer, but not the rest of the team. So let me introduce,” Rossi says, placing a hand on my arm to guide me over to the rest of the team, JJ and Spence following soon behind. Dave introduces me to each of the members, all of them give me a warm smile and tell me that they’re glad I’m here.
“So how long have you two been dating?” The dark-haired woman, Emily, asks.
“Uh,” Spencer stutters, “We’re not dating.”
“No?” Morgan questions, clearly puzzled.
“Nope,” I say, “We’re just friends.”
“Pretty boy come on,” Morgan groans.
“That’s what I call him,” I laugh, to which Morgan hums, asking what I meant without words, “Pretty boy.”
Morgan lets out a laugh, muttering that he likes me already under his breath.
“Wine?” Dave calls out to me.
I shake my head, “No thank you, I’ve got the morning shift.”
“Wait you didn’t tell me that, when do you need to be home?” Spencer quickly interjects, clearly unsure if I should be out, as he knows that I have to be up to open the shop at 4:30 if I’m on the morning shift. I wave my hand letting him know that it’s okay. Looks are thrown between members of the team, all silently swooning of Spencer and I’s obvious feelings for each other.
“Where was your shop again Y/n?” Penelope asks, a smile on her face.
I smile back at the woman, “It’s actually just down the street from where you guys work, next to Taylor’s bookshop.”
“Wait, what was the shop's name again?” Hotch questions.
“Pour l'âme, It’s french,” I laugh, “It means for the soul, but doesn’t the french version sound so much better.”
“Spencer has definitely brought group coffee to the BAU from there at like 9 o’clock at night,” Morgan says, “And there is no way that you’re open that late.”
My eyes flick to Spencer, whose face is red, “You would be right.”
“So that means that you’re making at least seven coffee’s for dear boy wonder here in your after hours,” finishes Penelope.
I nod my head in response.
“Far out Reid, if you don’t make a move I will,” Emily jokes and the group lets out a collective laugh.
The rest of the night goes on without a hitch, the team continues to make jokes at Spencer’s expense, and I'm sure that it's a normal thing for them to do anyway.
The clock ticks over to ten thirty, and Spencer and I say our goodbyes to the team. Each of them gives me a hug, aside from Hotch who had already left.
“Thank you for dinner, Dave, and thank you for having me everyone, it was great to meet you all,” I say, placing my coat over my shoulders, hoping they understand how truly grateful I am to be included.
“You’re more than welcome at my dinner table any night of the week,” Dave says, pressing a kiss to my cheek.
The rest of the team makes comments that suggest they agree. And my heart squeezes, they have successfully made me feel so welcomed and like a part of the family already. We throw goodbyes over our shoulders, and Spencer's hand falls into mine and we walk down to his car. He opens the door for me, but before I get in I wrap my arms around his waist.
“Thank you for taking me, Spence,” I say, burying my head into his chest. Spencer’s arms wrap around me and we just stand together for a moment. My heart races at the intimate moment.
“I’m so glad that you could come,” He mutter’s into the top of my hair, “I don’t think I’m going to be allowed to come without you anymore.”
I let out a laugh and pull away from him and get into the car, and we travel back to my apartment. Spencer parks his car and gets out following me to the back entrance to my apartment. We stand outside of my front door.
“I don’t want to leave you yet,” I confess, a surge of confidence racing through me, “I like being around you. In fact, I think I’m going to surgically attach us together so that I’m always around.”
The two of us laugh. Our eyes lock in the light of the moon, cliche I know, and I can tell that Spencer’s eyes are concentrated on me. His eyes flick down to my lips and I rake my tongue over them.
“I like being around you too,” He whispers, inching closer to me. I can feel his breath on my face at this point, the cinnamon scent that he's always wearing envelops my nose and I feel at home, I feel safe. He leans down slowly and hovers his lips over mine, leaving me time to pull away if it’s not something I want. And oh god do I want it. I step up onto my tiptoes and press my lips to his, bringing my hands up to hod his face. His own go around my waist and pull me closer to him. Our lips move together in perfect harmony and it's almost as if the rest of the world slips away. I swipe my tongue over his lips and he opens his mouth to me. We fight for dominance and eventually he wins, pushing me backwards a little bit and we hit my door with a thud, causing us both to laugh and break apart. I grab the back of my head.
“Ow.”
“I’m so sorry,” He says laughing. He places a hand to the back of my head, “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” I say smiling, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth slightly. “So, when are you finally going to ask me out?” I tease.
He lets out another laugh and steps back from me, oozing confidence, “Hey you're the one that told the team that we’re just friends.”
“We are just friends,” I quip back.
He shakes his head, “Do you want to be just friends?”
I shake my head no.
“Good, me either.”