Luffy’s “gotta Catch Them All” Attitude Toward Friends Is Hella Entertaining

what 141's military personnel file looks like

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NOTE: NOT CANON! most of the information is based off of the wiki/my medical file post

summary: So what exactly were in those dossiers Price gave to Laswell at the end of MW 2019? Here's a look into those, along with some reminders/sticky notes. Answering this ask :)

template if you’d like to try it out!

ALSO! the ages were such a headache this post did a great job explaining how confusing the wiki/some statements are so please check it out

warnings: medical inaccuracies, mention of wounds/wound care, mentions of depression, medical terminology

a/n: these came out better than i thought! also 2004 was such a bad year for Price and Ghost

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The world is changing. And it let us behind. 

Threats

Yassasssssss slayyyyyyy

✩ Hawks + World Heroes’ Mission OVA ✩

ghost guiding

Makino in Episode of East Blue

zoro yeah ive heard of him

Delivery (pt.3)

I've been keeping this in my docs collecting virtual dust and cobwebs. So for those who love Mihawk please don't roast me if I write him wrong. Still thinking if I should continue writing this.

The reflection of your face mirrors the bewilderment from the brown liquid in the white porcelain cup. The scent is meadow-like with a dash of sweetness dancing under your nose. 

Passion flower tea.

You're not a tea person. You are more like the world is burning and you still prefer a hot cup of coffee that is darker than the cape you saw Mr. Dracule wear last month and two spoons of sugar. 

"Is the tea not to your liking?"

Looking towards the man blinking as if you have just woken up, your jaw clenched and unclenched like you are chewing your words, filtering the phrases thoroughly. 

"No." In the end, you couldn't give a better answer when everything sounded rude in your head. 

You recollect once more how the cup of tea made its way to your hands and the man also sat on the steps near you. The random interaction is throwing you off. It feels like you are missing something but reading too much will lead you deeper into the depths you don't want to dive into. 

So for the sake of etiquette, you take a sip. And the tea didn't fail to disappoint. Still tastes like drinking a bunch of sapped grass. You even stick out your tongue but it only makes the flavor set off your taste bud. 

"I prefer coffee, dark, and two spoons of sugar. But thank you for the tea." You place the cup beside you before standing up. "I better get going Mr. Dracule. See you next… month?"

As usual, he didn't give you a reply and you are off the perimeter of his castle still bothered by his abrupt tea time. How awkward and rude for leaving but there's something with the tea you were not vibing with. What a strange choice to share with someone. 

…

"Y/n spill it!" The petite brunette screamed right at your face. 

"Aya for the last time I don't have any idea who sent those flowers." 

Glaring at the bouquet of apple blossoms, savory, and daffodils right beside the spearmint flowers innocently placed in the vase from the corner of the bar counter. You're not well-versed in the language of flowers but you know damn well what apple blossom means. It's clear from the unusual combinations of flowers that the sender was conveying a message. 

And it wasn't the first bouquet you received. Last week it was only savory flowers. You didn't think too much about it, until today when Aya and Dave found the bouquet first. 

"Aren't you curious?" 

"The only thing I'm curious about is if I rob a bank will it be enough to pay my debt?"

"You are not robbing a bank, y/n!! Dave y/n at it again!" 

You scoff as if your uncle can even do something about it. 

Dave walks out through the backdoor looking conflicted. "Arson?"

"No! But stealing banks."

Your uncle didn't say anything, very typical of him. As he went back through the back door presumably to hole up in the office. You allowed it as long he did his job; counting numbers and deception. 

"So, are you gonna tell me anything?"

Rolling your eyes you continue reading the book in your hand. It's a slow day anyway, no new customers to deal with or the usual rowdy patrons. An annoying sigh drags out of your throat when Aye placed her hands on top of your book pushing it down. 

"What are you, my mom? Demanding shit like I'm doing things behind your back?"

"I'm younger than you! And shorter! And cute! How–"

You grab her cheeks pulling her closer making her entire upper lean on the bar counter. Squishing her cheeks, Aya starts to panic. 

"You surely feel comfortable working here that you forget who's the real boss, brat."

"Eeep!! Nooh, um soowee!"

Letting go of your coworker, you return from reading your book. 

"Jeez, you're no fun. Kill-joy!" 

"Wipe the table instead rather than annoying me with something I don't know," you ordered. 

Aya huffed mumbling strings of complaints she only stopped when you gave her a glance at the top of your book. 

You do a double-take on the paragraph that caught your attention. Regard, warmth of sentiment… your gaze moves towards the vase again. 

Daffodils are right next to the spearmint flowers, intertwined as if to complement each other. 

Shaking your head you return from reading. Whoever sent the bouquet is the least of your concern, after all, you hate flowers. 

…

You whistle upon seeing the gloomy island from afar looking significantly bright for the first time. The thick cloud looming over the island has a thinner portion where some of the sunlight manages to pass through. 

Ah, here we go again. 

Strangely no attack nor any signs of weapon-wielding baboons scurrying in the shadows. Not even the snipers shooting at you like a ragdoll in a practice range. 

"What's going on with this island today?" You whispered not letting your guard down, after encountering traps in your path. 

As if you're gonna fall for an obvious trap, you snort at the thought. 

Okay, something wrong is going on with this island. Is it the sunshine? Are the baboons afraid of it? What is it? You've been coming to this island back and forth, unfazed by the horror vibe it's going for. But this, this silence is so dense you can breathe it in. 

On a good note, you got to the castle without breaking a sweat for the first time. However, as you close the distance to your destination, your guts rumble from the sudden surge of trepidation. Now what? There's no way you'll be needing a bathroom break because there is no freaking way you'll enter Mr. Dracula's castle!

"Uhm, I'm wondering if it is normal for the humandrills to be absent when the island is experiencing sunny weather. I haven't encountered any of them on my hike here," you can't help but ask before taking a sip of your coffee. Yep, coffee, and you politely accept the break he offered. 

"The humandrills are busy tending the farm today," Dracule answered as if he was just talking about the weather. 

You spat the coffee in your mouth and coughed trying to alleviate the sting in your throat. Damn, that hurts. 

"How? Like I thought you don't have authority over them? And those baboons know how to farm now?" 

The string of questions earns you a raise of an eyebrow from the stoic man while he looks at you. 

"I don't. The humandrills just copy what I've been doing."

"That's a stalker-level kind of shit." 

"It's how they learn from watching. But humandrills believed to live peacefully if they lived with peaceful humans."

He didn't have to say anything because you'd already recognized what came next. You stare at the brightened sky, trying to avert your attention away from the brooding thoughts. "It's such a shame they had to witness that part of humanity." 

The silence is easing the brewing storm in your mind. Such a nice break from your haunting reality. 

"The old fool, why are you still keeping him around Delver?"

"Don't call me by my father's last name. Please, Mr. Dracule. Y/n or anything else as long as it's not offensive will be fine."

"I don't understand. You are calling me by my last name."

"It's for business reasons." You placed the cup beside you and stood up. Still trying to be polite you look away from him. 

"Still–"

"I can't stand hearing it! You shouldn't even know about it! Please, it's all I ask." 

"Very well, y/n."

Wiping your eyes you smile at him in appreciation. "Thanks, and sorry for being emotional. Just a mention of my old man rattles me quite easily."

"You are still grieving. That is understandable."

The sky is growing darker again, a reasonable escape for you from this unexpected exchange. "Thank you for the coffee. Anyway, it's getting dark again. I better get going. See you later Mr. Dracule." 

As you walked away his voice drifted from your range but it was faint making it indiscernible. And when you turned around he was halfway from entering his home. But you swear you heard him. You shrug and carry on walking toward the shore. 

...

Sleep is still in your eyes with a cup of newly brewed coffee, you walked out of the bar entrance to breathe some morning air. It becomes a habit you can't shake off even when your father couldn't be there to share this serene moment with you anymore. You take a seat on the steps, as usual, but now alone. 

Even your uncle grew used to this habit. After all, it's always been the three of you. The store bell chimed again. You didn't have to turn around and check who it is.

"I'm cooking pancakes, do you want some bacon too?" 

"Yeah, and please don't cremate it like last time," you teasingly said. Trying to fill up the quietness of the morning. 

"May I remind you I'm hangover because of those party maniacs."

"And I didn't hear you complain the entire night while you took on bets."

"Ugh! It's only a one-time y/n. I–y/n?"

You only hummed still in a daze. 

"You received another bouquet again."

The cup hovers in front of your mouth as your body goes rigid. Another one… again? 

"You didn't notice?"

"It's too fucking early Dave. No, I haven't noticed shit since I came out of here. For fuck sake that's getting annoying." You sneered, after seeing the flowers. 

"Can you stop cursing so much this early in the morning?"

"Make me bitch." You grumbled. 

Dave rolled his eyes. "Brat. Anyway, I feel pity for whoever was sending these flowers. It's such a waste." Dave picked the bouquet. 

"Eat it if you want." 

"You are hopeless, y/n"

You groan, tempers rising. "Tell me something I didn't know already."

Dave only sighed at your retort and went back inside. A scowl crumpled your features, all the while trying to remember what you read from the book you stole from Dave. Your uncle is well-versed in the language of flowers. You didn't like how ecstatic he was when he saw the first bouquet you received. But you didn't ask him what was the meaning of those damn flowers since you act indifferent about it. You don't want them to think you are interested. And it's getting more annoying that the flower shop owner delivering the damn flowers refused to give you an answer. 

Yes, you managed to trace who's delivering those flowers. But it only led you to a dead end. 

Pink camellia and white roses. Shudder raked over your body from the absence of heat leaving your paling body. Just the thought of somebody getting lovey-dovey over you is making you cringe. 

The explanation is at a young age, you became repulsed by romance because of your old hag. It's a story for another time and you don't want to recall those memories now. 

You can only hope that if you continue ignoring this secret admirer they eventually stop, whoever they are. 

...

"So, boss, you have an admirer now?"

"Don't call me that, it's gross. And no, it must be for Aya. Do I look admirable, kid?" You glance at your cousin beside you, and he immediately looks away. "Right. I don't think so. I have had enough of the two idiots bothering me about those damn flowers," you answered as you checked the basket of grapes. 

Getting tired of the relentless interrogation from your uncle and waitress you decide to give the family's vineyard a visit. Unfortunately, the issue you are running away from has also gotten over to the attention of your other relatives. 

Liam is one of Rachel's kids who likes to follow you whenever you are around. The teenager with dedicated brown eyes was enthusiastic about learning everything about agriculture and cultivating the vineyard into a prosperous farm, he already earned sun-kissed skin and a toned body from years' worth of work. 

"Are you gonna stay here for a while?"

"Yeah, just for tonight, kid."

Liam brightened up from your reply already looking forward to tonight's dinner. You laughed as you watched the teenager run toward the house, while you choose to stroll, just taking your time. 

Soon you will be in the ocean once again to deliver Dracula's expensive wine and have a cup of coffee with the said recluse on the stairs of his doorsteps. Because you refused to accept his invitation inside his domain the second time. 

It became a routine whenever you got there and waited for the payment, he would be back with a tray of drinks. You weren't sure at first how to strike up a conversation with him while drinking and sitting next to him. You didn't even know if the small talk would start a proper conversation with him, but you give it a shot. So you take off with what you left unanswered from the previous encounter. 

From there he told you the reason why he dislikes your uncle. In the end, you both agree Dave should grow a pair and be a man now that your father is gone. 

A decent conversation with Kuraigana's only local human was something you weren't expecting since he isn't the type to talk a lot but he wasn't selfish in giving you the necessary answers. As long as he knows the answers or wants to answer of course. 

But the man seems to lean more toward listening than talking. One time you were talking about the vineyards. Just like that, you were talking to him like a long-time friend exchanging notes and catching up with each other. You were so into the topic that you didn't notice you were smiling and talking nonstop about a fond memory you had of your family vineyard. And when you momentarily stopped you were taken aback when being coaxed by him that you continue the story. Which you did for an entirely different reason when you saw something else in his eyes. 

Maybe it's just you, caffeinated, or maybe just the dreariness of the place finally getting into you. Seeing some fleeting softness in his usual deadpan stares. The conversation flowed back into a smooth transition when you decided to just roll with whatever that was. He was lonely even if he didn't show it on the surface level, the man obviously craves company. So, you just continue. 

Although you are not known for your generosity, his company isn't equally bad for you. Especially in those quiet moments. His silence is comforting and it quite becoming a solace you've been longing for. It sure is an equal ground for two equally lonely adults. 

Now that's a head-scratcher, you aren't usually friendly with men like him. Having connections with dangerous people is surely the lifeblood of your family business. However, the relationship should remain within the bounds of professionalism. So, why did your father go this far in serving this man? And you only discover this deal when Zake left. 

…

You took a whiff of the scent constantly teasing your nose every now and then. It is stronger than usual. Calmly intoxicating and warm like a drink of wine near the fireplace on cold nights in winter. You find the combination oddly comforting. Which rarely happens because everything is simply too much for you. 

"I am quite aware you have a sensitive nose y/n. But aren't you being obvious right now?"

Startled by what you heard, you whacked both of your hands on the lower part of your face, instantly covering your nose, while you leaned further away from the man. You've been found out. He knew. But how much does he know about your sensitivity?

"I'm sorry Mr. Dracule, I didn't mean it. I swear it's not what you think." You tried to explain defending yourself from obvious humiliation. 

"Then, please, do tell me what it was you were doing."

At this point, your cheeks must be the warmest part of your body right now. With how much blood may be rushing in your head. Your flustered deposition only intensified when Dracule glanced at you and to your horror, there was a glint of amusement perks in his golden eyes. 

"You should relax or you may end up fainting with so much blood rushing through your head. Although it is a fascinating sight that you are almost a shade closer to the color of a wine. I don't want you losing consciousness on me." 

Unable to hold yourself you turn your back on him while holding both of your cheeks. You take your time composing yourself back, taking deep breaths and a bunch of happy thoughts. He really caught you off guard when you thought you were being discreet sniffing the air around you. Well, what do you really expect from a man of his caliber, of course, he will notice even the subtle change in your breathing and not to mention you are only a few feet beside him. 

Well, it is what it is. You've been caught, might as well just be fucking open about it. 

"You smell nice today Mr. Dracule." 

Not physically but emotionally. He is calm and content right now. The scent of his emotions draws you for more, lulling you into comfort. But he doesn't have to know entirely the effects of his scent on you. 

You kept your gaze away from him while you lean on the heel of your palm. "Did you perhaps change your soap?"

And when you thought the day couldn't get any weirder you heard a sound too foreign for your ears. Abrupt without any further ado or introduction necessary the stoic man laughed. It's not a full belly laugh, no that would be too much for this man and definitely be out of his character, or even a giggle for he is too refined for such a reaction. It's just short, simple like being lightly tickled. 

It's a jaw-dropping moment in the grand line to hear a man known for his menacing bitch resting face, a composure refined as white sugar, and goth fashion you could scope a distant mile away with his coffin boat that if you fail his vibe check there is a high chance he can slash you and the island you are on in half. 

Must be the end of the world. 

Unfortunately, your jaw didn't drop since you froze in your position and the only movement your rigid body can operate is your neck to swivel toward his direction and blink owlishly, because what the hell just happened?

Dracule Mihawk just laughed. 

"I admit there are some changes," he said, while nonchalantly taking a sip of his tea. His lips curled higher between the rim of his cup. "And you're turning red again, y/n."

Ah, no shit Mihawk you just laugh, is what you wanted to blurt out. But it shouldn't be a big deal. He is still a human being, entitled to human emotions. 

Although embarrassed by the obvious flush on your cheeks you didn't hide it this time. What's the point of hiding the reaction you don't have control over? 

"Yes, I'm aware. Thank you for pointing it out Mr. Dracule." Even if you are being passive about your situation there's a hint of sass in your tone. 

You are anxious about the future. Working in the bar since you were a teenager alongside your father and your uncle, the occasional brawl was a typical scene you'd grown desensitized from the endless display of manly savagery. The constant piss contest and who's greater than who game, you'd seen it all. The week wouldn't be complete without those arrogant bastards and wisenheimer, picking on each other's business until those smug faces had been pulverized and beaten into a disgraceful ugly pulp. That's why you don't find men appealing anymore or maybe you are simply an ace. 

But lo and behold, when the amused grin is still plastered on his face as you glanced at him. A sign of apparent trouble showed itself in an unexpected form, at an unsuspected time. You realize how attractive smug confidence is on the face of Dracule Mihawk. 

And you can't emphasize the expression, "oh, no" enough in your recent predicament. 

no vacancy | spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader

set sometime in early s2; you get stuck sharing a room with your favorite boy genius who absolutely cannot know that you have feelings for him. and also, there’s only one bed. fluff, f!reader (i think there's only two usages of gender markers)

word count: 4.7k

notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3. i'm thinking i'll do more of these, i've got a few spencer fics in the vault and it was fun to rework this and see how my style has changed :)

You shivered against the cold desert air. Twirling a keyring around your finger, you headed for the door marked 3. You were exhausted from the day and so, so ready to collapse into bed as soon as you got inside your room. 

You turned the key in the lock while Spencer waited behind you. It was late, and you and the team had pulled into a motel for the night, having been dragged out to a tiny rural town by the unsub after days of tracking him through surrounding areas. He’d been apprehended, finally, and handed over to local police around midnight. You all had decided it best to spend the night before driving back into town in the morning for take off. 

So here you were, at one of those single story motels that still used actual keys instead of key cards. Given the time of night, you knew vacancies would be scarce, so you’d already expected to have to double up on rooms. Gideon had stayed behind at Quantico, leaving Hotch and Morgan in one room and JJ and Prentiss in another, with you and Spencer sharing the last room. You’d hung back while JJ got everything figured out with the concierge (who was just a bored looking kid posted at the desk), and then she’d passed you your key with its little keyring attachment listing the room number and you all bade each other goodnight.

You’d been on the team nearly a year already, but you were still the rookie compared to everyone else. Even Spence had two years on you. But seeing as you two were the youngest, and the least inclined toward the more physical parts of your job– the chasing, tackling, firing your weapon parts– you were paired off with him more often than not. 

You weren’t complaining. You’d come to know Spencer pretty well, and you didn’t feel much apprehension at the thought of sharing a room with him for one night. 

That is, until you opened the door. 

“Oh,” you said involuntarily.  

"There's only one bed,” Spencer said. 

“Sure looks that way.” 

"At least it's a queen?" 

There was a brief pause before you both started speaking at the same time. 

"Maybe we can go back to the concierge–" Spencer began. 

"I mean, I guess I don't really–" 

"–although, JJ did say we got the last–" 

"–mind as long as you–" 

You cut yourself off this time. It’s not like there was another good option, unless one of you wanted to sleep in the car. "This is fine?" it came out as a question rather than a statement. 

"I think so? I wouldn't want to– to make you uncomfortable or anything."

"This is fine," you repeated, more sure of yourself this time. “And you don’t make me uncomfortable.”  

It was only kind of a lie. You trusted Spencer with your life, of course. But he also made you nervous. He was sweet, kind, always seeming genuinely interested in anything you had to say. And of course, anyone could see that he was attractive. You were developing feelings for him, and in a job where your coworkers and your crush himself were all adept at reading people, it really wasn’t a good position for you to be in. You just hoped Spencer was as oblivious with women as Derek made him out to be. 

"We should get out of the doorway," Spencer suggested, and you realized you'd been standing in the threshold this whole time.

"Right."

The two of you walked in, Spencer closing and locking the door behind you. It was a modest room in a tiny town; your standard ugly-patterned, faded bedspread draped over the queen bed in the center, a window looking out into the parking lot, and a dresser that didn’t even have a TV on top of it. You headed straight for the bed, sitting on the edge and removing your shoes while Spencer stood by with his hands in his pockets.

"You know, if it's a problem I can sleep on the cou– uh, the chair," Spencer offered, looking back mid-sentence and realizing that the only additional furniture this motel offered was one rigid looking armchair by the window. 

"No, you're not doing that."

"What?" he asked, taken aback by the quickness of your response.

"You're not sleeping in that chair. It looks horribly uncomfortable and I’m sure it’s never been cleaned, and I know how you’d feel about that.” 

Spencer grimaced, not having thought about that particular detail. “Yeah, but, I mean… I’d do it for you.” 

God, why did he have to say stuff like that? Like you were something special. And why now, when you were stuck in the same room with him until morning? It probably didn’t even mean the same thing to him as it meant to you. He was one of the most caring people you’d ever met. He’d probably say that to any one of you on the team. 

Or maybe sleeping in a chair meant nothing to him at all. Maybe he actually didn’t want to share the bed with you and that’s why he was trying so hard to avoid it. 

Ugh. You just wanted this day to be over. It was late, the case had been a week long, and now you were probably in for a fun night of overthinking and second guessing when you’d been expecting silence and easy, dreamless sleep. 

Okay, maybe that last part was never really an option, but still. 

“Look,” you sighed, “I know this isn't an ideal situation but there's a perfectly good bed here, so let’s just share it. If you’re okay with that. It's just one night and tomorrow we'll be back home and nobody has to know about it."

You had to fight from squeezing your eyes shut in regret. You wished that had come out differently. You chanced a look at Spencer, realizing that you’d been staring down at the faded carpet pattern while you spoke. 

The look on his face was one you hadn’t seen before, and you almost couldn't place it. He seemed sort of disappointed. Disappointed that he had to share a bed with you? Or that you'd made it sound like you didn't want to share a bed with him? Nope, you could not go down that road tonight. You shook your head once as if it would clear the thoughts from your tired mind. 

“I’m okay with that," he said, casually enough that you could almost convince yourself that you’d just imagined the look on his face before. "So, do you want the shower first, or...?" Spencer asked.

"No, I can wait, you go ahead," you said. You desperately needed the moment to yourself anyway.  

You started rifling through your bag for pajamas, toiletries, and your charger as an excuse to look busy while Spencer made his way into the bathroom with his things. As soon as the door closed behind him, you flopped back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as if it might hold all the answers. 

Spencer couldn't know about your feelings. For one thing, you were pretty sure there was a rule against dating your colleagues in the BAU. If not, there probably should be. You were such a close knit team, and if anything went wrong… you couldn’t imagine how difficult that would be. But then, the evil and uncooperative part of you also couldn’t help but think that things might go right. 

From the beginning of your time at the BAU, you’d been drawn to Spencer. It just kind of made sense. You’d gotten through school at an accelerated pace– though not as quickly as him, the man was on another fucking level when it came to academics– and you were one of the only people who found his fact dropping actually interesting, often asking him follow up questions. He’d looked adorably shocked the first few times you’d done that. 

He listened intently to your passionate rants about your favorite films and tv shows, even though he hadn’t seen any of them. When the two of you had discovered a shared interest in mythology and folklore, Hotch nearly had to separate you so you would actually get some work done. It was like you were a kid in school again, and you might’ve been embarrassed if you didn’t find it so funny, if you weren’t so giddy at the idea of a friendship that could make you feel like a kid again. 

Spencer understood you in a way that other people didn’t, laughing at your jokes even when they didn’t land for anybody else. When people interrupted or spoke over you, he always paid attention, and in situations where you were trying to add details to the profile he’d bring the conversation back around to you. 

Throughout your life you’d learned– through painstaking trial and error– to fit in pretty well in most any group you found yourself in, but you’d always considered yourself to be a little weird. A little too different. But when you were with Spencer, you felt like you didn’t have to try so hard. You could both be a little different, together. 

Spencer opened the bathroom door then, startling you. You’d been so lost in thought you hadn’t even noticed the water turn off. You looked over to see him wearing a loose white t-shirt and pajama pants, his hair still damp. And now you knew what Spencer looked like fresh out of a shower. And of course it was endearing as hell. 

“If that’s how you’re planning to sleep,” Spencer began, referencing how you were laid out in the dead center of the bed, your arms fully outstretched and hands hanging off the mattress, “then I think we might have a slight problem after all.”  

You walked out of the bathroom a short while later, dressed in your usual sleepwear of shorts and an oversized shirt. You’d put your hair up in a bun to protect it while you showered, and now it hung loose around your shoulders. You simultaneously wished your outfit was cuter and uglier; knowing your giant t-shirt wasn’t flattering your figure while also feeling like you had too much skin exposed. Not that it mattered. You were just going to get some sleep and then wake up in the morning and head home. Everything would be back to normal. 

Spencer’s in bed already. He’d turned off the big light while you were showering, the lamps on either side of the bed casting him in a softer, warmer glow. He looked up from his book to find you standing there, and the soft, familiar look in his big brown eyes had you rooted to the spot. 

“Hey,” he said softly, patting the space next to him in invitation. 

You conceded, finding your legs again and sliding into bed beside him. “Hey.” 

He fidgeted with the pages of his book, ultimately shutting it closed on his index finger to mark the page. “So, uh, are we okay?” 

“Yeah, of course,” you answered genuinely, feeling bad that your internal struggle had manifested in a way that worried him. 

“Okay, cool,” he said. He paused long enough to let you explain if you wanted to, another invitation. You knew he wouldn’t push it if you didn’t offer something up. You wanted to give him an explanation, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. 

“Sorry,” you managed. 

“For what?” 

“I don’t know… acting weird, I guess. It’s just been a long day.” 

“Oh, well, you don’t need to be sorry about that. You’re always weird.” 

Your mouth dropped open as you looked at him. “Look who’s fucking talking,” you scoffed. Some of the tension dropped from your shoulders, glad he hadn’t questioned you further. 

“Language, please,” he held up a hand to stop you. “I’m delicate.” 

“Wha–?” you let out a surprised little laugh. “You’re an idiot!” 

“Yeah okay, tell that to my I–.” 

“Oh, my IQ of 187,” you finished for him, rolling your eyes. Even that was full of endearment. “God, you are so annoying.” 

“Hm. Y’know, this might be a long night for you. I’d hate to keep you up with my annoyingness.” 

“I feel like you could’ve come up with a better word than annoyingness, Mr. 187,” you tilted your head where it rested against the headboard, looking up at him. 

“Oh, she’s being a smartass now!” he split into a surprised grin, and you could swear your heart skipped a beat. 

“You just said ass.” 

“Wow. How quickly you’ve corrupted me.” 

“Right, of course. It’s my fault.” 

“I knew you’d agree.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” you laughed. 

Things felt a little bit more normal after that, joking around with Spencer like you normally did made the rest of the night feel less daunting. 

Shortly after that, the two of you agreed that you should get some sleep, each reaching over to turn out the light on your respective sides of the bed. 

You let yourself sink into your pillow, the exhaustion you had been feeling giving way to a hyper awareness of Reid’s body next to you. You were kept awake, completely overcome by the foot of space between you and Spencer; the consequences of crossing that space, the way it might feel, the curiosity over whether he was laying awake too, thinking the same thoughts as you. Even with that foot of space separating you, you could feel his body heat. You longed to move closer to him, to touch him, to let his warmth seep into you and lull you to sleep. 

But you didn’t, and you wouldn’t, because this was just an unfortunate booking mishap. It didn’t mean anything. Tomorrow it would be over, and you could more easily go back to hiding your feelings from everyone else and yourself. 

Eventually, exhaustion won out. 

You woke what could’ve been a few minutes or a few hours later, the sky still dark. You couldn’t tell what exactly had woken you up, only the sense that you’d moved, almost like you’d fallen. But fallen from what? 

You blinked in the dark, the street lamps in the parking lot providing enough residual light to keep the room from being pitch black. 

Reid was sitting up. He must’ve bolted upright, you thought. Had that been what moved you? Were you lying on him?! 

“Hey, you okay?” 

“Sorry. Just a nightmare,” he said as if it was nothing. “Sorry to wake you.” 

“What was it about?” you ignored his apologies, sitting up as well. 

“I don't really even remember,” he breathed, almost like it was funny. “Just having a physiological reaction to whatever it was, I guess.” 

You had nightmares too, of course. You all did. You hated remembering them, but you also hated the times when you woke up in the dark, dazed and inexplicably scared. Without thinking, you reached for his hand. 

He turned to look at you then. “I really didn't mean to wake you,” he reiterated. 

“I figured,” you smiled slightly. You noticed his breathing was just a bit too fast. You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand, leaning over to rest your weight against his side, your head on his shoulder. His nervous system would regulate itself quicker this way. 

“You were on my pillow, by the way.” 

“What?” you ask, your head jerking back from him. 

“I totally called it. You rolled right into the center of the bed in your sleep. Total bed hog.” 

“Hey!” you protested, pulling your hand back from his in embarrassment. So you had been lying on top of him. Or at least really close to him. His hand chased after yours, finding you again. 

“That wasn’t me complaining about it.” 

“Oh,” was all you could think to say back. 

It was quiet for a minute. You let your head fall back onto Spencer’s shoulder, but your heart raced in your chest. 

“Can I ask you something?” he questioned, his tone becoming more serious. 

“Oh– of course,” you answered, your brow creasing. 

“What did you mean when you said ‘it’s not ideal’ and ‘nobody has to know about it’?” 

“Wh– I– Spencer, come on.” 

He didn’t give you an out this time. Just waited for an answer. 

“I don’t even really know,” you sighed.  

“I believe you’re being partially truthful about that.” 

“Don’t profile me.” 

“I’m not. I just know you.” 

You sighed. “You know, sometimes I hate that stupid memory of yours.” 

“I don’t need an eidetic memory to remember that. It was a weird thing to say, and it happened like four hours ago.” 

“You’re guesstimating. And it wasn’t that weird.” 

“Maybe not, but the way you said it was. And you’re avoiding my question.” 

You continued to avoid it, biting down on your bottom lip. 

“And you stuttered when I brought it up.” 

“I told you to stop profiling me.” 

This time, he just hummed in response. 

“And so what if I stuttered?” 

“Stuttering is usually more my thing. A nervousness thing.” 

Maybe this was actually your nightmare. Maybe you’d wake up soon and none of this would’ve been real, and you wouldn’t have had to explain to Spencer that the reason you’d had an attitude was because the situation tonight had made it harder to hide your feelings for him. Big feelings that became a lot harder to ignore when he was this close to you, still holding your hand, the mix of scents from his detergent and deodorant clouding your judgment. Of all the embarrassing scenarios that you could’ve imagined playing out tonight, this was very high up on the list. 

“I said ‘it’s not ideal’ because it’s not, just by definition. We were supposed to get a double room and we didn’t. Not ideal. And I said no one has to find out because I can already see Morgan having a field day with it and I know the exact expression that’ll be on his face–” 

“The eyebrows,” he nodded, lips pursed. 

“And then everyone else will get in on it and I just figured…” you sighed. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to deal with that.” 

“That all makes total sense.” 

“Good,” you breathed. Too relieved. 

“Now tell me the rest of it.” 

“God, Spencer–” you huffed out, frustrated. He knew you too well. 

You wanted to run. Maybe you could go sleep in the car after all. And then ignore Spencer for the rest of the day, and then the year, and your life, and– 

“Don’t make me say it,” you breathed. This had to be a dream. 

“But there is something to be said?” he questioned, his tone hushed, almost reverent. 

It was just vague enough. You could pretend it was nothing. 

“Yes.” 

You felt like you’d just blown your life up with one word. 

Spencer took a deep breath, your body cresting and falling with the movement of it. 

“You make me feel better about being myself,” he confessed.  

You shut your eyes. You had a constricting feeling in your throat suddenly, and the awful realization that you might cry. 

He spoke again, because you couldn’t. “I haven’t always felt good about it, you know? And then you joined the team, and, well– you changed a lot of things for me. And you’re beautiful, obviously, and I was scared to mess up what we have, because it’s special, I think–” 

“It is.” 

“–and then you started freaking out when you saw the bed,” he was smiling now, you could hear it, “and I thought, maybe it wouldn’t be so crazy… maybe I could make you feel that way too.” 

“You do. Of course you do. I feel like I can be my full self with you. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt like that before.” 

Spencer laughed, a little delirious giggle, and squeezed your hand in his. You’d managed to avoid crying, thankfully, and you grinned along with him, looking down at your joined hands as you squeezed him back. 

Things seemed to still for a beat, the two of you sitting with this moment and letting it stretch out. You still couldn’t really believe this was happening. You might have to tell Spencer to pinch you. 

“So what does that mean for us now?” you asked. 

“Well, for right now at least, I think it just means that we can go back to sleep without overthinking things into oblivion.” 

“I was not–”

“Okay, this time I am profiling you, and you’re lying,” he cut you off, his smile still evident.  

“Oh, this was such a mistake.”

He continued like you hadn’t spoken, laughing a little as he went. “I could practically hear it. It’s like, you know when a computer is trying to use too much processing power and the fan starts whirring really loud? Like that but just like right next to me, like tangible—“  

“Okay! Thank you so much, I actually totally got it, you can stop now.” 

He laughed, and your cheeks warmed. 

“For the record, I meant we could both stop overthinking.” Then he shifted a little, facing you a bit more. With the hand that wasn’t holding yours, he brushed a strand of hair from your face, a fake pout on his lips. “Sorry I make you nervous.” 

You cackled at that, if it was possible to cackle in hushed tones. “Oh, I bet you are. Besides, I know you like me now, so you’ve lost that card.” 

“Are you certain of that?” 

“Certain that you like me or certain that you can’t make me nervous?” 

“The latter. I do like you, if that was unclear.” 

Your heart sped up, contradicting you as you answered, “Then I’m certain you can’t make me nervous.” 

He titled your face up to his then, using his index finger underneath your chin to make you look at him. “You’re an awful liar.” 

You just shrugged, watching triumphantly as Spencer’s gaze fell to your lips.“It’s been working out pretty well for me so far.” 

“I guess it has,” he murmured, closing the distance between you and finally kissing you. 

After so many months of imagining (and berating yourself for imagining) what Spencer’s lips might feel like on yours, you weren’t disappointed. 

For once you didn’t have to think at all, the chemistry between you and him drowning out everything else. His hand fell to your waist, and yours moved to the curve of his jaw, pulling him closer as his mouth moved against yours. Your teeth grazed his bottom lip and he gasped, and your skin felt like it was lit up from the inside. 

You pulled away to breathe, and to process, and to try and stop your head from swimming. You were rewarded with the awestruck look in Spencer’s eyes as he opened them again. 

“Okay, was it just me, or–” 

“That was crazy,” you breathed.

“Crazy,” he agreed. 

“Spence?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I don’t think we’re getting back to sleep tonight.” Your eyes widened at the implication of saying those words at that time. “Not, like, in the sex way, though,” you hurried to correct yourself. “I need like, 4-5 business days to process things first, and I– well, I just meant, like– you know?” 

Spencer was nodding at you even as his eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “Can I still kiss you during those 4-5 business days?” 

“Oh, yeah,” you said, sounding breathless. 

“Cool,” he agreed. “You seem really nervous, by the way.” 

“Well, you kissed me.” 

“I did.”  

“How were you not nervous?” you breathed. 

“Oh, I was. Your reaction is making me feel a whole lot better about it though.” 

You scoffed half-heartedly. “I do so much for you.” 

“You do,” he replied earnestly, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “We could lie back down, if you want. Like we were before I so rudely woke you up.” 

“Yeah, I’m super mad about that,” you joked. “Anyway, I was asleep for that, so you’ll have to show me what I was doing.” 

He seemed all too pleased to do so. “Okay, so you were basically like,” he leaned back against the pillows, pulling you down with him, moving his hand to the side of your head to guide you to the place where his shoulder met his chest, “Like that, and then your arm was over here,” he picked up your arm and guided it around his waist. 

“Oh god, that’s so embarrassing,” you said, realizing that he must’ve been awake when you’d done it. 

“Yeah, I know. Really terrible time for me.” 

“I can imagine. I can scoot back over to my side of the bed, just say the word.” 

“Don’t you dare,” he said, squeezing you closer. 

You trailed your fingers up and down his waist, feeling more content than you had in ages. 

“I can’t believe you’d suggest that I would have sex with you right after confessing my feelings. Like, take me to dinner first at least.” 

“Oh my god,” you half-exclaimed, half-laughed. You felt your cheeks heat up again, grateful it was still too dark in the room to be noticeable. “You’re right, I’m so sorry. How’s next Friday?” 

“Hmm, I don’t know. My work schedule is kind of unpredictable. I’ll have to get back to you.” 

“You’re such an ass.” 

A few short hours later, you were back on the jet with the rest of the team. You were lying on the couch while Spencer sat in a seat one row up and across from you, both to avoid suspicion and so you could try to catch up on sleep. He sat facing away from you, but with the angle you were at you could still see one side of his face if you tilted your head up. 

You were just beginning to fade when your phone buzzed next to you. 

Spencer: I have to tell you something, coworker to coworker. 

You looked up to see him blank faced, looking down at the book in his right hand, holding his phone in the left. 

You text back: okay? 

Spencer: My crush asked me out last night. 

You’re exceptionally glad no one was sitting close enough to see you. Spencer had caught you off guard, and you felt an infatuated grin spreading across your face. 

You: what did u say? 

Spencer: Wanted to get your opinion first. 

You: i think u should say yes, obviously. 

Spencer: Idk, I’m kinda nervous. I think she’s trying to jump me on the first date.

You just barely managed to refrain from laughing out loud. You looked up at Spencer again, and he’s looking at his phone as if it contained nothing more than a weather report. You’re astounded. 

You: one could argue that technically you’ve already slept together, so there’s less to be nervous abt

You saw his eyebrows raise just slightly. Success. 

Spencer: You’re trouble, you know that? See you Friday night

You: i promise i won’t try to jump you 

Spencer: Oh

Spencer: I fear I may have shot myself in the foot here

You: i wouldn’t worry about it to much

Spencer: That’s rich coming from you 

You rolled your eyes even though he couldn't see you. 

You: whatever. wear something sexy ;) 

You heard him blow air out of his nose, an almost laugh. 

“Something funny?” you heard Derek ask. 

Shit. 

“This book contains a historical inaccuracy that was proven incorrect eight years before its publishing date,” Spencer replied without missing a beat. 

Unbelievable.

You: you’re unhinged :*

Spencer: Go to sleep already, would you? 

You: coworker to coworker? my crush keeps interrupting my beauty sleep 

Spencer: He’s probably worried about the worldwide implications of you becoming any more beautiful 

You: i guess that’s why the universe gave you insomnia :( too pretty 

Spencer: Stop flirting with me

You: bc you’re too delicate?? 

Spencer: Yes 

You snapped your phone shut, feeling dazed. You watched the clouds go by in the window across from you, and you couldn’t help letting your gaze slide over to Spencer. He’d put his phone down as well, concentrating on his book. Or pretending to concentrate. He was turning the pages much too slowly for his actual pace. 

You: you have got to do a better job of fake reading than that

You heard a page turn. 

You looked up again to see the ghost of a smile threatening the corner of his mouth. 

This was going to be fun. And also, you were so screwed.