Spencer Reid | Oneshots

Appalachian ☁️ (G)

Summary: Reader is tired of Spencer purposefully pushing their buttons and demands an explanation.

Rating: G

Content Warning: None!

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Spencer Reid was a genius. It was an objective truth – a fact of life that I'd come to terms with on my first day at the bureau. For the most part, it was pointless to try to argue with him. You would lose, and probably be humiliated by just how well versed he was in whatever you were talking about.

But that day, Spencer Reid was fucking wrong.

"Reid, this is stupid. You know I'm right. Why are you arguing with me?" I shouted, feeling him following close behind me despite my very desperate attempts to get away from him. It was an argument we'd had several times before. Every single time we had a case in the region, without fail, we would fight.

It had all started on the very first case I went on. We were up in Northern Pennsylvania when some local got into it with me. Later that afternoon, I'd complained about it to Reid, assuming that he'd take my side, since I knew he would be aware of the origins of the term.

But he didn't. No, he had doubled down and has remained firmly in the wrong camp ever since.

"Actually, I don't know that! Both pronunciations are correct, and I happen to think mine makes more sense," he said with a level of smart-aleck in his tone that was impressive — even for him.

"No, it doesn't. It objectively does not."

"Let's take a vote," he suggested with a shit-eating grin on his face.

I spun around on my heels, causing him to nearly smack right into me with the sudden stop.

"I don't need to take a vote, because I already know I'm right. Appalachian comes from the Native American term Apalachen. From the Apalachee! So even your arguments about traditional grammar rules don't make sense! It's latch, not lay!"

The only thing more frustrating than not being able to say the words fast enough or loud enough was that nothing I said ever wiped that stupid smirk off his face. He seemed so confident, despite his opinion being utterly ridiculous.

"I disagree," he said like that made a difference, tacking on another teasing comment, "And so does the north, by the way."

"You're not even from the north, I—!" I started, cutting myself of when I heard him laugh. I swear my body was shaking. I wanted to punch him. I was going to do it one of these days, I was convinced.

But not today. No, I just took a deep breath, trying to steel myself for whatever else he had left up his sleeve.

"You know Reid, just because you disagree with something doesn't make it right."

"I disagree."

He was seconds away from making unpleasant contact with my fist when I forced myself to turn around. I barged into the conference room where half the team was waiting for us. I dropped into the seat, my hands immediately coming up to rub my temples.

Reid took the seat right next to me, still going on.

"Why don't I just call it Alleghania instead?"

I turned in my seat, facing him directly with my hands clasped in front of my face in something slightly resembling prayer.

"Why are you like this?"