Chapter Text
Owning your own tailoring business was amazing, but being the sole proprietor was exhausting. Thankfully, business was booming, and you were able to hire some help. It had been a relief, but you were still on the cusp of burning out. Damien was a talented young tailor though, and you’d been able to trust him to help you out when you needed it.
At least it was Friday, and you only had two more customers set to pick up their suits today. Then you could go home and have a nice glass of wine. Maybe you’d watch a movie and critique the period accurate-ness of the dresses.
The bell rang as two men walked into the shop. One was tall, well-built. The other was tall and skinny, his long hair framing a pale face that anxiously scanned the store.
“Here to pick up?” you guessed.
“Yeah,” the larger one said. “Should be under Derek Morgan,” he pointed to himself, “And Spencer Reid.”
You hadn't been the one to tailor these suits. Well, at least not originally. Damien had taken the measurements and made adjustments, you’d just made sure they were up to your standards.
“Right, the suits,” you nodded. “Good choice, by the way, very flattering, Derek.”
“People call me Morgan, please,” he smiled softly, adding your name after reading it on your tag. “And thanks,” he added. You laid the suits on the counter as he fished his card out of his wallet.
“So, where are you headed looking so sharp?” you asked, making conversation while the payment processed.
“We’re going to a wedding,” he said.
“Mutual friend?”
“Boss,” he answered.
“Oh,” you smiled. “That’s nice that you’re so close with your boss.”
He snorted a laugh.
“Not really,” he explained. “We work for the FBI. It’s the director’s wedding. It’s actually more like a networking event than a wedding for most.”
“Oh wow,” you gaped. Morgan you could believe was a fed. Spencer? Maybe the FBI had accountants or something. “What do you do for the FBI? Or is it like top secret and you can’t tell me?”
You were partially joking, and looked to Spencer after you saw Morgan huff a laugh. He quickly looked away when your eyes met, blinking and staring at the mannequin in the corner with sudden interest.
“We’re profilers,” Morgan explained.
“Wow,” you repeated. “Like John Douglas?”
“You know who John Douglas is?”
Spencer’s sudden entrance into the conversation almost made you jump. You recovered, though, and nodded.
“I love to read,” you shrugged. “True crime is a genre I dabble in. It’s not easy to find good, empathetic writers though, as I’m sure you’re aware.”
Spencer looked surprised and slightly pleased with this. You handed Morgan back his card and Spencer stepped forward to pay for his.
“We, uh, actually work with David Rossi,” he offered. The name sparked recognition.
“Oh really?” you said. “Yeah I think I’ve read a book or two by him. That’s awesome.”
Spencer stared at you for a long moment before taking his card back. You wondered if he was profiling you, drawing conclusions about things you were unconsciously doing. Could he tell that you’d been studying him as he pressed the buttons on the card reader? That you were drawn to those big brown eyes, the elegant curve of his jaw? You blushed just recognizing it yourself.
“You’re all set,” you said. “Thanks for the business.”
Spencer smiled tightly and turned to leave, but Morgan took on a mischievous smile.
“One more thing, actually,” he said. Cocking your head to the side, you waited for his request. “Reid here needs a plus one for the wedding. You busy tomorrow?”
Your eyes shot to Spencer. He looked like his dad had just told his friends he still wet the bed. He pressed his lips together and shot his friend a dirtier look than you’d anticipated he could make.
“He’s kidding,” Spencer said quickly.
“I’m not,” Morgan grinned.
You couldn't tell what was happening here. Was Morgan trying to set you up with his friend? Or was this some weird elaborate prank?
“He’s a nice boy, and having a date might make him less prone to rambling and embarrassing acts through the night.”
“I’m not a child, I’ve been to a wedding,” Spencer frowned. “I’m sorry he’s doing this. Thank you for the suits,” he said, turning to leave.
Morgan looked at his friend and then back to you. There were wheels turning in there, but you had no idea what the motive or goal was for him.
“Alright, be my plus one then,” he shrugged.
Spencer stopped in his tracks, his hand on the door. He turned his head slowly, his eyes narrowing.
“I just split up with the girl I was seeing, so you’d be doing me a favor making me look good,” Morgan smiled. “Free booze and good food. The guy’s loaded, it’s going to be a bougie wedding.”
It was a strange interaction to be sure, but you were finding yourself considering it. You’d just been thinking how you needed a break. You had Damien to take care of things tomorrow, it wasn’t like he needed you, especially in the afternoon.
“Fuck it,” you laughed. “Let’s do it.”
“Yeah?” Morgan asked.
“Yeah, why not.”
“Great, just pop your number in here. I’ll text you all the details. Unless you’d rather, Reid?” he asked, smirking at his friend. Spencer just glared at him, waved briefly to you, and left the shop. “Don’t mind him,” Morgan said. “He’s just funny sometimes.”
If funny meant that that pretty boy couldn't stand you for some reason and didn’t want you around, then sure, he was funny. You thought maybe you’d won him over knowing about an original profiler, but his ademance that you not come to this wedding made you doubt that. Still, like Morgan said, free booze and a chance to get dolled up? You could take a little awkwardness from his friend.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you grinned. “Thanks for the invite.”
***
The nice thing about being a dressmaker was that you had plenty of dress options when it came to nights out. Morgan had said it was going to be fancy, so you picked a stunning black dress you’d made a few years ago for a charity gala. The plunging neckline made you feel sexy and elegant. You spent your time on your hair and makeup too, completing the whole look with confidence.
Morgan texted you that his team were taking a limo together to the event since it was a little ways away. Turns out you weren’t the only one who wanted to treat themself.
Knowing that you were going to be in an enclosed space with a team of profilers was more than a little terrifying. You’d read enough to know that you’d be an open book to them. Not that you had anything to hide of course, but being scrutinized wasn’t ideal. Still, they were off the clock, maybe they wouldn't even care about the random stranger their friend dragged along. It was also thrilling, you had to admit. You’d never met anyone from the FBI before, and now you’d be meeting a whole team.
You waited outside your apartment building when he said they were close, and saw the limo pull into the parking lot. Your heart started hammering in your chest. The night was warm, but you felt like you were sweating with nerves already. The door opened as the limo pulled to a stop. You realized as you stood that everyone in there could see you, but you couldn't see them yet. You could hear music from inside, along with a spattering of voices. Morgan got out, looking as sharp in that suit as you’d expected. His eyes widened when he saw you, his jaw dropping.
“Damn,” he smiled. “You look drop dead gorgeous.”
Funnily enough, it didn’t feel like he was hitting on you. It felt more like a brother seeing his sister get ready for prom. Not that you minded, the compliment was genuine no matter the intention.
“Your suit looks even better than I thought it would,” you said. “That was meant to be a complement to you, not me,” you added with a blush. He snorted a laugh and gestured for you to get in.
As gracefully as you could, you entered the limo. Inside, your eyes immediately found Spencer’s. He was in the far back, his body tense as you entered, his eyes skirting your body before giving you a tight smile and then looking out the window. Next to him was a blonde woman wearing a bright blue gown and matching glasses. The other side held a man and a woman with black hair.
“Hi, everyone,” you greeted, taking your seat. Morgan sat next to you.
“Hi,” the woman with the blonde hair greeted. Were each of these people in pairs? The blonde with Spencer and the other two together?
“This is Penelope Garcia, that’s Aaron Hotchner, Emily Pretniss, and you know Reid,” he said.
“Nice to meet you all,” you said as the limo took off. “Thanks for letting me tag along. I see you found a plus one?” you asked Spencer.
“Oh no,” Penelope laughed. “Morgan’s the only one who managed to find a plus one. And a very beautiful one at that,” she added with a smile. “Where did you get that dress?”
“I made it a few years ago,” you explained. “Figured she deserved another night out.”
Penelope gaped, and the others looked equally impressed. You felt a brush of pride at this, you hadn't expected them to be impressed by you in any capacity tonight.
“That’s incredible,” she said.
“Oh, thanks, I mean, it’s my job,” you laughed.
“Still,” she said.
You chatted for a while, getting to know the team a little bit. It turned out that everyone seemed to go by their last names, which was interesting. They seemed close enough, you figured it was just a fed thing. They were all good looking people too, and you wondered why none of them had gotten dates for this. Perhaps it was hard with the hours they worked to find someone.
When you arrived at the massive venue - a mansion on the shoreline - all you could do was allow Morgan to lead you towards it as you gaped.
“Guess you weren’t kidding about the bougie level,” you muttered, earning a chuckle from Morgan.
The ceremony was mercifully short, and the team headed to the bar soon after, finding a table nearby to congregate at. You sipped your drink slowly, all too aware that you were around people you’d rather not embarrass yourself in front of.
“So who’s this hot shot director guy marrying?” you asked. “She looked gorgeous.”
“She’s a lawyer,” Hotch answered.
“That fits,” you laughed. “Damn, all you people are so accomplished.”
“Reid’s a doctor,” Morgan added. Spencer looked like he’d just been outed for a huge secret. “Thrice over, actually.”
“And a genius,” Garcia smiled, ruffling his hair.
“Stop,” he grumbled, though he smiled at her.
“Seriously?” you asked Spencer.
“Chemistry, mathematics and engineering,” he nodded, pressing his lips together.
“Where did you find the time?” you laughed. He wasn’t much older than you after all. “Oh, duh, genius. But still, doctors, lawyers, I can’t imagine how hard it must have been to meet someone with jobs like that.”
“It’s definitely challenging,” Prentiss agreed. “I guess if it’s a priority, you make time.”
It was clear from that statement that relationships were not a priority for them. Fair enough, saving lives was an important calling. Still, it must get pretty lonely.
“Are we next down the aisle then?” you teased Morgan.
He laughed, but his eyes flickered to Spencer.
“Only if you make my tux,” he said.
“You won’t catch me walking down an aisle,” Prentiss muttered.
“No one ties my perfect goth princess down,” Garcia agreed.
“I’ve been there once, not sure I’d do it again,” Hotch admitted.
Everyone turned to Spencer to see his opinion. He swirled his drink nervously.
“You know, at the world level, the proportion of adults aged 35-39 who are divorced or separated has doubled, passing from 2% in the 1970s to 4% in the 2000s,” he explained. The team all but rolled their eyes in unison.
“Reid,” Morgan said seriously, drawing his attention to him. “I think if you found the right girl, you’d forget all about those statistics.”
Spencer’s eyes flitted to you for a brief moment before he smiled good naturedly at his friend.
“I don’t think that’s possible,” he answered.
Whether he meant it wasn’t possible to change his mind despite falling in love, or that he would never find someone to fall in love with, you weren’t sure.
“Wait, sorry, are we just glossing over that he pulled that fact out of the air?” you asked.
“He has an eidetic memory,” Morgan rolled his eyes. “And he never lets us forget it.”
His smirk was good natured enough, but you thought they were seriously under-impressed. Maybe you got used to that kind of thing.
“Well, maybe Mrs. FBI has a sister,” you offered. “Maybe you’d beat the odds.” You threw Morgan a teasing grin.
“Ugh, no one on this team needs to date another person in this world,” Garcia noted. “We need some sunshine in our little dark corner.”
“I brought some today, you’re welcome,” Morgan grinned, clinking his glass with yours.
“Here, here,” Hotch smiled, and raised his glass to the middle of the table so everyone could cheers.
Dinner followed, and you were thankfully all at one table. The food was amazing, and the band played quietly in the background of the massive ballroom.
“So, you make your own dresses, you made the boys look presentable, what can’t you do?” Garcia smiled.
“Oh I also make costumes,” you noted. “I love Halloween.”
“You hear that, Reid?” Morgan asked. “Another freak.”
You laughed and pushed his shoulder. You thought this might help with whatever weirdness Spencer was feeling with you, having a shared interest, but he just seemed disappointed by it. You weren’t sure what you’d done to deserve his disinterest, but it was clearly mounting. He seemed to be bummed that he had something in common with you.
“I also make them for cons,” you added.
“No way,” Garcia gasped.
“Yeah,” you laughed, pulling out your phone. You scrolled through your albums of your elaborate costumes.
“Wow, wow,” she grinned. “Reid, guess we know who we’re taking with us to the Doctor Who convention. That is, if you’re around,” she added.
“I already had tickets,” you admitted, laughing. “I’d love to go with you.”
Spencer managed a tight smile and a nod, but he didn’t look thrilled about it. You were going to backtrack, say that you had something else going on, but Garcia was so much fun, you were willing to put up with Spencer’s antagonism if it meant hanging out with her. Maybe you’d convince him that you weren’t the worst person in the world. It occurred to you that they probably didn’t get a lot of outsiders in this group. Maybe you were just throwing off the natural equilibrium and he’d eventually come around to you.
When dinner was over and the cake came out, you were stoked. The bride and groom cut their pieces and took their photos, and then pieces were served to the tables.
“Oh yay, chocolate,” you grinned. “Remind me that I owe you like five free suit alterations, this wedding is amazing,” you smiled at Morgan.
“You have room for that?” he laughed.
“I never turn down a sweet,” you promised.
“Jesus, Reid, did we accidentally clone you?” Prentiss smirked. You looked to see him already digging into his cake. He eyed you again with a strange mix of sadness and interest.
“A sugar fan as well?” you asked, trying to engage him in any way.
He nodded, shoveling a big piece of cake into his mouth.
“Sometimes I swear he drinks more sugar than coffee in his coffee,” Hotch added, amused.
The evening progressed, and the dance floor opened up. Most of the team made their way to dance alongside you, save for Hotch and Spencer. Morgan was unsurprisingly lithe and graceful as he danced. He spun you around while you laughed before you joined Prentiss and Garcia in their little circle. Despite barely knowing these people, you found yourself having a blast. It was obvious they were feeling the same as you - the need to let loose for a night.
Your eye caught Spencer’s a few times as you danced. You thought he might be staring at your body as you moved around the dance floor, but more likely he was just staring into space. This didn't really feel like his scene. To be honest, it wasn’t usually yours either, but it was more fun than you’d imagined, and you were grateful for the random invite.
After enough cake and dancing for a lifetime, you followed the team out front for the limo. Everyone was happy and tired, and the ride to drop everyone off was pretty quiet. You and Morgan were the last ones left in the limo. You were half asleep with your head on his shoulder. It was funny, you thought this might turn into a date, but over the course of the night it felt like you’d found a long lost cousin or something. He seemed to feel the same too, as he’d made no advances.
“Did you have fun, sleepy head?” he asked softly.
“More fun than I’ve had in a long time,” you smiled, lifting your head from his shoulder to look at him. “It was pretty amazing to meet your team. They’re all so nice.”
You bit your lip for a moment, wondering if you should ask about Spencer. It wasn’t that you thought he actively disliked you, but there was something off there. If it was something you’d done or said that he was offended by, you wanted to fix it. Especially if you continued to be friends with his friends.
“What is it?” Morgan pressed. Profilers. Ugh.
“Nothing,” you sighed. “Just… Spencer seemed to not like me?” you said. “And I was just wondering if I did something or if I’m just not his cup of tea.”
Morgan let out a laugh and gave you a knowing look.
“He just takes some time to warm up to people,” he promised. “It’s nothing you’ve done. Just give him some time, I promise, you’ll be best friends in no time.”
There was something in the look he was giving you now, like some oracle that knew the future.
“Okay,” you muttered, not convinced. You were pretty positive if he knew a real reason he would tell you, so that was at least a little comforting.
He walked you to your apartment door and wished you a good night. The promise of new friendships filled you with hope and excitement. You’d already exchanged numbers with Garcia and were looking forward to going to the con with her soon. Maybe that would give you and Spencer a chance to hang out some more, let him become more comfortable with you. At this point, you would settle for a smile that didn’t look like he was sitting on death row.