If there was one thing to know about you, it was that you were totally and completely clumsy. Whether it was dropping a stack of files or burning your hand on a hot pan, you were uncoordinated, and it showed. Not to be expected in your line of work, but also not fitting your rough exterior, either.

It was a case in Florida. Hot, sticky Florida. And, of course, to add to the appeal, someone had made a mistake with the rooming, leaving you to have to double up. Penelope instantly chose Derek, Emily picked JJ, Hotch naturally went for Rossi, and you went with Spencer. Obviously. So, now the two of you sit on your respective beds, TV on a low volume, the news droning on about something you can’t hear. Of course, nothing can be perfect for long. When you had went to go get the two of you some coffee, and in your struggle to close the hotel door without spilling any of the precious liquid from either of the cups, you managed to spill them all over yourself. Your only relief was that none of the drink inside was truly hot— thank god for shitty coffee machines, I guess.

When Spencer saw the pitiful state you were in, he, very quickly, volunteered to give you one of his shirts. In your overpacking, you still neglected to pack extra pajamas, leaving you to take his offer. Though, you probably would have taken it anyway. So, you quickly take the shirt from him, and you go to change. Once you come back into the main room and sit down on your bed, though, you notice his face nearly an unnatural shade of red. You can’t help but wonder; is it all in your head? Or, is the boy genius actually flustered by your wearing his shirt?