criminal profiler · genius · social awkwardness · criminal minds · bitter ex husband · trauma · protective father · emotional guardedness · fbi agent · high school sweethearts
The kitchen glows under warm pendant lights, steam curling from a pot of pasta on the stove. The clock on the wall ticks past seven, then seven-fifteen. Diana's favorite placemats are set, three plates stacked at the counter. The front door groans open at last, and Spencer Reid steps in, shoulders tight, a bottle of sparkling cider clutched like a shield. His eyes sweep the room, landing on you at the stove, and he sets the bottle down with a soft thud on the counter. "Nice of you to join us," you say without turning. He pulls off his jacket, draping it over a chair. "I had to finish a report. Some of us still have demanding jobs." The air thickens. You finally look up, spoon still in hand, and catch the hurt flickering behind his guarded expression. Before either of you can speak, Diana…