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“Gideon, I was looking over the most recent case file and I—”
Spencer is just barely able to avoid stumbling over both his words and himself only after he’s walked halfway into Gideon’s office. He’s nowhere to be found, only a pretty girl around his age sitting in the chair across from his desk with taut lips and a frown that you turn on him.
“You’re not Gideon,” Spencer says dumbly.
“Very astute,” you say. “They clearly hire the best here.”
“W— who are you, exactly?” he asks. “And why are you in Gideon’s office? And where is he?”
“That’s a lot of questions.” You tilt your head to the side. “Not surprised he hasn’t talked about me.”
And once again, Spencer finds himself just staring at you. He’s pouring over every interaction he’s had with Jason Gideon since he started working here, every knickknack and tchotchke he’s ever seen on his desk, any pictures he might’ve seen from glimpses at his wallet.
“You’re Reid, right?” Your eyes narrow in, and despite being around you for no more than a minute, he already feels like he’s doing something wrong. “He talks about you a lot. Probably more than me.”
“Spencer Reid,” he says. “Uh— Doctor Spencer Reid, actually, but—” Spencer blinks and shakes his head, because why are you the one leading the conversation here? “Who are you, exactly? Because Gideon doesn’t really like visitors and he never really has them anyway and I really have to talk to him about something, so if you could just tell me where he is that would be great.”
“I don’t know, but I’m surprised you don’t. He seems to like you a lot more than he likes me.” You huff a laugh. “I’m supposed to be here. He probably just forgot about it.”
Spencer opens his mouth to ask you again to just please say your name because the last thing he needs on his hands right now is a security hazard with him as the first line of defense, but he’s saved by the bell, because Gideon walks in right at that moment.
He stops in his tracks as soon as he crosses the threshold, the pile of files and folders in his hands losing his interest—Spencer doesn’t even think he sees him, the way his eyes immediately lock in on you. He says your name, and Spencer doesn’t have to be a profiler to pick up on the annoyance. He swears he gets a hint of guilt, too.
“I didn’t know you were coming to the office today,” he says.
“Figures,” you remark. “We only made plans a week in advance and I only emailed you three times and called you today to make sure. How could you possibly remember?”
“I never got a call.”
“You never picked up.”
“I was busy,” he says. “This job—”
“I know,” you intone dryly. “It’s always the job.”
“Gideon, I have a question.”
Spencer knows it’s not the best time, but the tension has shot up and the temperature has shot down, and he would really like to get out of here as soon as possible. Gideon frowns as he looks at him, and if Spencer didn’t know who he was working with he would have thought he was noticing him for the first time.
“How rude of me.” Gideon walks over to his desk, and his voice is oddly restrained as he gestures at you. “Reid, meet my daughter.”
He doesn’t even get the chance to say that wasn’t his question, because his eyes nearly burst out of his head as Gideon says your name and, more importantly, your title.
“Your— your daughter?”
“There it is,” you say wryly. “It’s heartwarming to know how much you talk about me, Dad.”
“We don’t need to do this right now,” Gideon says as he sets his files down. He looks more tired than usual.
“No, I think we do.” You lean forward, resting your elbows on your legs. “Because you finally agreed to fit me into your schedule for once, and instead, I meet boy wonder before I meet you.”
“You don’t need to bring Reid into this,” he says.
“I think I do,” you repeat. “Because I know about him and his three PhDs and how he’s the youngest agent here, and he doesn’t even know my name.” You look at Reid, a falsely disarming smile spreading across your lips. “You didn’t know my name, did you? I mean, based on that reaction, I don’t think you knew he had a daughter.”
Spencer’s mouth opens and nothing comes out. He looks at Gideon for help, and he lets out a deep sigh as he says your name.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “Can we reschedule?”
“No,” you say. “I have a job of my own too, y’know. This was the only spot I could carve out to come see you—I’m blocked in for the next month.”
“We just got a case,” he says. “We have to brief everyone and be out within the hour.”
“Of course,” you say bombastically. “You always have a goddamn case, Dad.”
“I have no control over it,” Gideon says, his voice pained. “You know that.”
“Maybe not over the case, but you have some pull here,” you say. “And you’re in full control when you decide not to pick up the phone.”
“I didn’t ignore you,” he says, but you’re already shaking your head.
“That’s not good enough.” You pick your purse up from the ground and sling it over your shoulder, and your glare shifts to Spencer. “Maybe I should get a job here. Maybe you’d give me the same attention you give to him.”
Spencer blinks. He doesn’t know if he’s ever been more uncomfortable in this office, which is saying something with their field of work.
“I— I’m sorry,” he stammers, because what else is he supposed to say?
You huff a mirthless laugh and shake your head. “At least one person is,” you mutter.
You walk out without another word, and Spencer sees Gideon’s jaw clench for just a second.
He calls out your name, mostly in annoyance with a hint of desperation, and he starts towards the door. He pauses before he can cross the threshold, and he looks at Spencer.
“Not a word of this leaves this office.”
Spencer nods far too many times in confirmation, and then Gideon dashes out. He hears him calling your name yet again in the distance. They have a new case, they’ll probably be on the jet within the hour, he still has these files in his hands and that unanswered question, and yet he’s rooted in place with wide eyes.
“Gideon has a daughter?” he repeats quietly to himself.