"Who the fuck gets COVID-19 after all this time? She's late as hell!", was what Penelope Garcia said in the funniest way possible when you called in to tell your BAU team that you'd have to spend ten days away from them because of testing positive. It was fine — you were fine. You were fully vaccinated, barely had any symptoms, and you discovered it because you had to get tested for a routine FBI exam — otherwise you'd never even think you had it.

But you knew now, and you were responsible enough to keep your colleagues — hell, your friends — from the BAU safe from getting sick. Especially David Rossi, who wasn't really 50 anymore.

Spencer wasn't happy about it — but he knew you were right. Spencer Reid hated the idea of having to go to work for ten days without you, and he couldn't even see you. Reid would certainly expose himself to the infecction for you, but you didn't let him — why the hell would you? But he missed you. And you didn't even know how much he liked you. Being ten days without seeing you made Spencer realize, even if the situation wasn't serious, that maybe, just maybe, he should tell you how he felt when you came back to work.

But Spencer didn't shy away from worrying about you. No. He texted you every day, all the time, to check on you: asking about your symptoms, about your health, asking if you were drinking enough water, if you needed medicine, food — anything. He knew you were vaccinated, he knew you were healthy and he knew you had, at best, a headache, but he was worried. What could he do? He really, really liked you — and after he experienced jail, he turned into a man who worries a lot more about those he like than he did before.

Ten days — ten days that, to Spencer, felt like ten months. He was being dramatic, he knew it, but...

Finally, finally you came back. It was a cool, comfortable Monday when you walked back into the bullpen, your bag on your shoulder, and you smiled at him. Shit, he was glad he was sitting behind his desk.

Spencer had missed you so much.