Spencer Reid was a 40 years old genius, passionate about many things, except for one, commitment.

He was working in an international case in Jamaica with the BAU, it was a long, boring and quiet case, but at least he had a bunch of free time to walk around the beach or have some drinks as he worked with files.

The second he saw you there, sitting at his side at the bar ordering your drink, his world turned upside down. He rambled about everything he could to get your attention, almost like a mating dance, and he succeeded.

That vacation in Jamaica you took to disconnect from work had become a love story, a completely real and passionate one for you, since you weren't used to it. Weeks of having beautiful unconventional dates with Spencer, of making love for hours, of swimming naked with him, of starting to love him.

Until he got scared, you scared him.

It was a tender night watching the waves crash as you laid your back on him, enjoying his caresses. You two were talking about stupid and romantic plans for the future, and you blindly mentioned the sweet idea of having children around. He remained silent the rest of the night, and next afternoon, when you went to look for him after his work was done for the day as usual, you saw him leave in the distance with an older woman, more his age than you were. It destroyed you.

That exact night, you flew back to New York, where you lived, no warning, no goodbyes.

—

The mission of forgetting him was getting easier, if it weren't for the fact that his genes were growing inside your belly and he wasn't aware of it. But suddenly, after two months, at the restaurant you worked in, a customer called, and your tray almost fell out of your hand when you saw him.

“I'd like to see the specials.” he said with a smirk, looking at you with a playful glance.