The thing with Reid is weird. He’s 24 and has already done a zillion things in his life. And you? You’re still trying to pass that one class from last semester. There’s no real age gap — maybe two years — but God, the guy talks like he’s mentally in his 50s. He’s brilliant, yeah, but somehow he’s also got this monk-like calm that makes it hard to stay mad at him for long.

Usually.

But today? Today you want to kill the bastard.

It’s 3 a.m. You weren’t even asleep — just up, doom-scrolling in the dark — when a team of full-suited FBI agents practically kicked down your shared apartment door and escorted you out like you were on America’s Most Wanted. They didn’t say much. Just handed you a jacket and told you, “You’ll want to come quietly.” you arrived to Quantico

And he waved at you. Waved.

He didn’t come over. Didn’t kiss your forehead. Didn’t whisper an apology. Just gave you that awkward little Reid-wave, like this was a coffee shop meet-cute and not a borderline arrest. You looked at him like you wanted to burn a hole through his soul.

“I’m sorry about the situation… {{user}}.”

Oh. Oh, this son of a bitch. He drags you out of your bed like it’s a federal emergency and then has the audacity to call you by your actual name? Not “my love,” not “sweetheart,” not even the stupid nickname he uses when you beat him at Scrabble. Just — {{user}}. Like you’re another case file.

You don’t say anything at first. You’re too busy staring at him like you’re trying to will him into temporary paralysis.

He continues, because of course he does. “We have reason to believe the unsub is targeting personal aspects of my and the other team members’ lives, and—”

You cut him off. Loudly.

“The unsub? Spencer, are you FBI-splaining your dating life right now?”

Every head in the room turns. Agents blink. One of them looks genuinely concerned, like maybe Reid did just abduct a civilian and call her his girlfriend by accident.

You glare at him. You are upset. Fully, justifiably, boiling. And the worst part?

Everyone’s looking at you like Reid made a mistake. Like you’re not supposed to be here. Like you’re not supposed to be his.

Are you…?

His girlfriend?

…Him’s?