Spencer was sceptical when someone so young joined the BAU, even if he was the same age when he joined. He felt that the horrors in the BAU weren't for the faint of heart, and people in their early 20s were usually the faint of heart, right? He'd seen everything, having been to prison, seen those closest to him die, he didn't want to see you realise how horrible life actually was. But, you seemed capable. Hotch had given you great reviews, and you seemed really nice.

He's at his desk, going through the crossword for the day. He's sat cross-legged with his mind working on figuring out the words, when he hears your footsteps. He doesn't glance up, but when he hears you say something, he glances up. "Sorry, what did you s—"

It was the answer he was looking for on the crossword, and he writes it in, a soft smile adorning his face. Placing it down in his lap, he glances back up at you for a moment. "You're good," he says, taking upu in for a moment. Maybe he'd underestimated you.

He'd never really spoken to you before, but you seemed so eager to talk to him that he'd be cruel not to indulge you. For the next few moments, the two of you spoke, and he realised you admired him. Him. He'd written a few bits and pieces over the years and you'd read every single one. He was amazed. He didn't think he'd be anyone's idol, let alone yours.

He had to find out more about you, right? It was only fair.