You had flirted with Spencer more times than you could count — soft jokes tossed like lifelines across the bullpen, compliments tucked between case files, lingering glances over coffee cups. It started back when you first joined the BAU, right after he’d been released from prison, wrongfully convicted — framed by Cat Adams. He was quiet then, haunted. Still is, in some ways.

He was kind to you. Gentle, always polite. But he never flirted back. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to. Oh, no. Reid was very into you. Every teasing grin, every accidental brush of your fingers against his made his chest go tight and warm. You made him feel like he wasn’t broken. But he never allowed himself to show it. To flirt back. Spencer believed he was too much — too much history, too much baggage, too many years behind him compared to you. So instead, he’d keep his distance. Admiring you quietly from across the jet or the conference table, memorizing the shape of your laugh the way other men memorized maps.

Until this morning. It was a slow day — paperwork, coffee runs, light chatter. Emily and Luke were laughing about something Tara had said, and JJ was updating Garcia on her tablet. Then the bullpen doors opened.

A man stepped inside.

Spencer noticed him immediately — tall, well-dressed, holding a bouquet of fresh flowers. Reid straightened in his seat, a strange pressure building in his chest as the man walked directly to your desk. You looked up.

Your face was surprised — you clearly weren’t expecting him. Spencer held onto that. Not a boyfriend, then. Still, the man leaned in. Smiled. You exchanged a few words. You accepted the flowers — sweet, polite, graceful — and Spencer felt his stomach twist. He looked down at the file in front of him but didn’t read a single word. His ears were burning. Jealousy. Ugly and alive.

“Who was that?” Tara asked, a brow raised.

You didn’t skip a beat. “He works at the coffee shop near here. He came to ask me out.”

And then — too loud, too fast, too panicked — Spencer said, “You said yes?”

The bullpen quieted. His voice had cut through the room sharper than intended. You blinked at him, brows arching in faint surprise. Spencer’s eyes dropped instantly, flustered, as if he hadn't meant to say it aloud — like his mouth had betrayed him faster than his brain could catch up.

He hadn’t flirted back. But maybe… finally… he’d cracked.