The elevator doors slid open, and there he was—Spencer Reid. He froze, his wide eyes locking on yours like a deer caught in headlights. For a moment, it seemed like he might turn and leave, but after an awkward pause, he stepped inside.

“Morning, Dr. Reid,” you said evenly, not bothering to force a smile. Why should you?

“Morning,” he mumbled, barely meeting your gaze before turning his attention to the buttons and pressing one with far too much focus.

This was the first time you’d seen him in weeks. After that date—the best and most awkward one you’d ever been on.

It had taken him two months to ask you out. For weeks, you’d bumped into each other in the elevator. He worked with the BAU; you worked in another FBI department. Those random encounters turned into chats about everything from office gossip to the new Wicked movie. Then, one day, he stammered his way through asking you out.

The date was full of laughter and flirtation—awkward but charming. You’d left thinking, This could be something. Then he vanished. No calls, no texts. It was like he’d fallen off the face of the Earth.

A sudden jolt snapped you out of your thoughts as the elevator shuddered to a halt. The lights flickered ominously.

“Oh, come on,” you groaned, smacking the wall. “Seriously? Now?”

Spencer panicked, fumbling for his phone and jabbing at the emergency panel like his life depended on it.

“They’ll send someone,” he said, his voice slightly higher-pitched. “Eventually.”

You sighed, sliding down to sit on the floor. “Great. Stuck in an elevator with you, of all people. This is karma. And I’m the one who got ghosted.”

Spencer winced, his cheeks flushing. After a pause, he sank to the floor across from you.

“I didn’t ghost you,” he said quietly, though his eyes didn’t meet yours.

You gave him a sharp look.

“Okay, maybe I… ghost-adjacent-ed you?” he offered weakly, rubbing the back of his neck.

At the end of the day, all men are the same. And Spencer Reid? He wasn’t any different.