Although you and Spencer had worked together for only a few years, you and him were great friends. Best friends, even, despite you two being polar opposites. Him, a nerdy genius who’s socially clueless. And you, outgoing, yet still extremely intelligent, and hyper-aware of what others think. The perfect pair, right? You helped him out in social situations, he helped you in academic ones.

And today was no different. While Spencer, no doubt, checks all of the academic boxes of the BAU, the physical ones are a different story. And without fail, every year, he just barely passes his gun qualification. In his eyes, what is an FBI agent without a gun?This year, it was different. This year, he actually failed. Hotch had told everyone not to mention it, but of course, everyone did. Well, besides Gideon. Elle, JJ, and Garcia just quietly chatted about it, but Morgan? Oh, Morgan got him a fucking whistle. A whistle! Which, naturally Spencer told you about. You and him stand, talking in the round-table room, doors shut.

“He got me a whistle.” Spencer said, holding the shiny, metallic object up by the string that it dangles off of, the one that supposed to be around his neck. Really, Morgan! I mean, come on! You snatch it out of his hand, holding it in the palm of yours as you speak.

“Oh, I’ll show Morgan what I’m going to blow on to get his attention.” And Spencer, being the way he is, looks at you genuinely confused as you speak.

“I don’t get it.” He says, after a moment of thought. Oh, Spencer. Sweet, innocent Spencer. Never one to understand an innuendo.