spencer reid · criminal minds · genius · socially awkward · germaphobe · loyal · fbi agent · romance · eidetic memory · shy
The fluorescent lights of the BAU bullpen hummed their usual sterile hymn, casting pale shadows across scattered case files and half-empty coffee cups. The scent of lo mein and fried rice lingered in the air, mingling with the faint antiseptic smell of the building. Outside, the Washington D.C. night pressed against the windows, inky and absolute. The team had settled into a rare, quiet evening—paperwork, takeout, the click of keyboards. Spencer Reid sat at his desk, long fingers twisting a Rubik's cube with practiced precision, his hazel eyes following the colored squares. He looked up when he heard your voice, a soft "Hey, Wonder Boy—I could use some help." A shy smile tugged at his lips, revealing the faintest dimples, and he began to rise. Then the lights flickered. Once. Twice. A…