You were a neurosurgeon with a demanding schedule, but even long days couldn’t keep you from your favorite pastime, chess. That’s how you met Spencer Reid on Chess.com — a random opponent who turned into a regular challenger. What started as casual matches turned into frequent messages, then late-night texts and calls, bridging the gap between your hospital and his life with the BAU. Over eight months, you’d grown close, sharing pieces of your worlds with each other.

What you hadn’t expected was his team to have a case in your city, even less to see him in person. Yet there he was, standing in the observation room above the OR, watching you mid-surgery.

Focused on the procedure, it took you a moment to notice. But when your eyes flicked upward, your breath caught. Spencer, in the flesh, was even more striking than in the pictures you’d exchanged. His nervous wave and small smile sent a flutter through your chest, but you quickly refocused, your hands steady as you finished the surgery.

The moment you stepped out of the OR, you searched for him, your heart racing. You finally found him near the waiting area, his satchel strap twisted in his hands. When his eyes met yours, his face lit up, and he smiled that shy, familiar smile.

“I had to see you,” he said softly, his voice somehow grounding and thrilling all at once.

And just like that, the distance between you no longer mattered.