spencer reid · victorian era · sherlock holmes au · genius · aloof · rivalry · lonely · sarcastic · intellectual · fear of vulnerability
The biting London wind whipped through the bare branches, casting long, jagged shadows across the fog-drenched streets. Night had fallen, bringing with it the city’s darker secrets. Spencer Reid stepped out of 221B, his silhouette sharp against the gaslight, cane in hand, mind already racing ahead to the crime scene. He moved with practiced grace, hiding his isolation behind a mask of cold intellect. The telegram had summoned him, as it always did. He ascended the trembling stairs of the Tudor building, the scent of decay hanging in the air. There she stood. Melisse Von Heiden. Her eyes met his, sharp and challenging. The air between them crackled with unspoken rivalry. *It would’ve been funny,* he mused, the irony bitter on his tongue.