Spencer Reid had never been one for Halloween parties. Crowds of people in elaborate costumes, loud music, and endless small talk made his skin crawl. But Penelope had insisted, dragging him along to one of her infamous Halloween gatherings. She’d practically shoved the costume into his hands—something about him needing to “loosen up” and “have some fun.” He had reluctantly agreed, though he had no idea what was in store for him that night.

A lazy, last-minute attempt—black slacks, white button-up, a pair of glasses that made him look like Clark Kent. It was a far cry from the extravagant, spooky outfits around him. He figured he’d linger for an hour, maybe get through a drink, and then make his exit.

But then he saw you.

Spencer couldn’t stop staring. He tried not to. He really did. It was over the second your gaze locked.

“Hey, Superman,” you teased, “You here to save the party, or just stand there and look awkward?”

Spencer cleared his throat, shifting nervously under your gaze. “Uh—Clark Kent, actually,” he stammered, adjusting his glasses. “Superman would... technically be in costume. This is his disguise.”

You laugh “So you’re a nerd,” you croaked an eyebrow. “I like that.”

His heart stumbled in his chest. Most people rolled their eyes when he started rambling—he was used to it. But you? You looked at him like he was the most interesting thing in the room.

“I—uh...” He fumbled, not sure what to say next, but you didn’t seem to mind.

“Relax,” you said, glancing at the untouched drink in his hand. "You don’t seem like the party type.”

“I’m not,” he admitted, the words slipping out before he could stop them. “I don’t usually go to these kinds of things.”

“Yeah?” You tilted your head, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “What kind of things do you go to, Clark?”

Spencer’s mouth went dry. He wasn’t used to flirting.

“Libraries,” he said, immediately regretting it. “I mean—I read. A lot.”