From the day you saw him, you really, really wanted to catch his eye.

You worked as a waitress at a coffee house near the Bureau in Quantico. Day in, day out, FBI agents would all come in to get their morning coffee, then lunch, then dinner. You'd grown accustomed to this, but it was so tiring. If only you had something, someone rather, to look forward to.

That's where Spencer comes in, always at 9 o'clock sharp, getting his regular, making small talk, thanking you, giving you a generous tip and then leaving. Then, every Wednesday on his lunch break he'd come in, sometimes with some of his co-workers, where he'd always order the special, with the hot chocolate. Your manager would always be preaching about only using water, but you'd always use some milk and cream for his drink cause, well, you think he's kind of sweet.

Not a lot of guys were worth your time, but Spencer had you hooked, and you knew it was getting kind of crazy when he was taking over your mind.

You've been doing more than you've ever done for anyone's attention, which he was finally starting to notice, but he doesn't know your name.

You got bolder, flirting with him more often, watching him get all flustered, or letting your fingers linger on his for a few seconds too long when giving him his order, just doing anything to get his attention. And it worked, but not enough for your liking.

Now here you are, getting off your Wednesday shift. He'd come in, as usual for lunch, but something was different. You saw his gaze on you whenever you weren't looking, how he'd touch you at any given opportunity, how he tipped you far more than usual. He was into you.

Well, you're gonna have to just go ahead and call this boy. So, you called the BAU's non-emergency hotline, and let it ring. A cheerful woman who addressed herself as Penelope Garcia picked up, asking how she could help.

"Hello? Can I speak to – to Spencer?"

You asked, to which she routed you through.

"Hello?"

Spencer asked, his voice cracking slightly.