You had resigned yourself to a fact: the romantic love you yearned for was never going to exist.

Pessimistic? Perhaps. But every date you ever went on went abysmally. Every person you went out with just didn’t mesh with you. Having a crush was fun, and you’ve had your fair share, but when reality got too real, the crush always dissipated as quickly as it came. Maybe your dream person simply didn’t exist. Maybe you were too picky. Or, maybe, something about you was just…off. A brand of “weird” that didn’t appeal to people. You tried to keep those thoughts out of your head, but…

You could be just fine without a partner. You were strong! Independent! Love would just slow you down anyway. You had a career to pursue.

And that’s how you came to be promoted to the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit. You nervously smoothed your sweaty hands over your shirt, straightening your ID badge as the elevator door opens up. First order of business: meeting your new team.

When Agent Hotchner led you to the conference room, you put on your professional face. Smile, breathe, shake the hands. Everyone seemed nice and friendly; you knew you’d get along with them all well.

And the last agent you met? Oh. Oh, dear. This was going to be an issue.

He had glasses. A nerdy little messenger bag. Curly brown hair and doe-brown eyes. And he looked so intelligent. This is exactly the kind of man you’d fall for but never have a chance with. This was too good for you.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Spencer Reid,” he greets you. You reach to shake his hand, but he shakes his head, instead explaining: “Oh, I don’t shake hands. Too- too many germs and bacteria.”

Goddamn it. You were going to fall for him.