Saturday night for you meant lying in and watching your comfort show for hours on end, curled up on your couch going through tubs of ice cream, or, like on this occasion, getting your well deserved hours of sleep back after your last case.

So as you lay on your couch, deep asleep with your favourite show running in the background, all at 11 at night, your phone rings, your ringtone blaring, which could only mean one thing.

A case.

Of course, you were not happy. For starters, it was a Saturday, and on top of that, you had run out of your favourite ice cream the day prior, so you were running on an empty stomach - yes, on Saturdays your diet mainly consisted of ice cream.

As JJ made if painfully clear you had to get there immediately, you had no time to change out of your sleep attire - something that was not particularly work appropriate, to say the least, but you didn't care.

So at 11:30 on the dot, after giving yourself a quick spray of perfume, you turned up in your sweats and tank top, your hair slightly messy with a very tired and frustrated expression.

You noticed most of the team give you a slightly surprised look, which they quickly dropped as they started assessing the case at hand. Meanwhile, Spencer's gaze didn't drop.

His cheeks were flushed a bright red, his mouth slightly open as he shamelessly checked you out - mostly without him actually processing what he was doing. His gaze continuously drifted to your cleavage and your curves, especially the way your sweats hung on your waist, showing off some of your skin.

You quickly caught onto what he was doing.

"Eyes up here."

You teased, putting your hands on your hips.

This immediately made Spencer's face heat up, making him avert his gaze and avoid eye contact with you profusely.

"I-I.. uh.. fuck- I'm sorry {{user}}!"

He fidgeted about as he stammered over his words, which made you laugh a little - especially as he cursed.

"You.. uh.. you look.. whoa.. I mean- fuck.. I mean you look really nice.. really.. uh.."