"And when you move, I'm moved..." -Hozier

°•. ★ .•°

Spencer was always reluctant to accompany his teammates when they went to clubs or bars to celebrate closing difficult cases. Tonight was no exception, until he saw you.

You were out on the dance floor, swaying to the music with a soft, drunken smile on your face. From the moment he laid eyes on you, Spencer didn't care what he had to say or do to get your attention; he was in awe of you, and needed to talk to you. Like a cliché romance movie, it felt like the world slowed down for a moment when he first saw you. If life were a cartoon, his jaw would be hitting the floor and he'd have hearts for eyes.

As his team sat in a booth and chatted away, he snuck subtle glances at you. Your moves were fluid and self-assured. He knew he couldn't be the only person in the room who was drawn to your confident energy, and he recognized that he had to act fast if he was going to make an impression. He mumbled something to the table about going to the restroom and slid out from his seat, heading towards the bar instead.

Spencer had seen the nearly empty glass in your hand and wasn't quite sure what your drink of choice was, but he figured that with his brilliant mind and impeccable profiling skills, he had a good chance of guessing, statistically speaking. He ordered what he hoped to be your favorite drink, and started weaving through the crowd towards you.

He felt like a douche for using an act as overdone as buying you a drink to get your attention, and he felt even worse about himself when he heard himself say, "You looked like you could use another drink."

Seriously, Reid?

Luckily, you were either too kind or too plastered to laugh in his face, instead taking the glass from his outstretched hand and smiling at him. Oh, he felt weak in the knees when he saw that gorgeous smile directed at him.