Zoom Sex is not Allowed

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Warnings: canon typical stories, scars, homesickness, mentions of sex toys

Summary: A month in Iraq, Spencer starts to settle in. Later, you set up a surprise for him.

Two weeks after the explosion Spencer was fully entrenched in base life

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Two weeks after the explosion Spencer was fully entrenched in base life. After a month in Mortaritaville he was sleeping through the gunfire and bombings, staying up with you to chat after hours, and spending more time with the unit outside the wire.

He spent hours with Alijah, avoiding asking her about Sayeed and instead focusing on earning her trust. She looked forward to his visits, and her English was improving almost as quickly as his Kurdish. He poured over the notebooks you'd given him, slowly working out Teddy's code so he could read the words inside.

A month in, and he was playing soccer with the unit, finally figuring out how to use his feet in a way JJ's gentle coaching never got through to him. Morello was teaching him how to play the banjo, and he wasn't very good but he was learning to like the sound.

Peanut taught him how to fix the radios that always seemed to malfunction, explaining how the software worked and the circuitry played into it. Barretti was teaching him how to use a sniper rifle, which was something he never thought he'd do. He and Garrett talked mostly about books, and exchanged every new one they picked up from the post exchange library to read one another's notes.

Spencer even started going on runs with you in the mornings, racing through the base and laughing at your jeers and teasing. His days were spent going over data, with Alijah or with the unit when you did your daily debriefings. He spent his nights with you, sitting in the moonlight and talking about nothing much at all.

He was starting to feel... at home here.

The thought was jarring. Who would have thought? Spencer Reid: Homeland Agent Enjoying Constant Danger and Sand in his Underwear.

Garcia would like that. It would've made her laugh.

He was currently sitting on a mountainside outside of Al Dhuluiya. About forty seven miles outside of Balad, they were on their third day of watching and waiting for some terrorist to poke his head out of a shack.

They'd been watching him, Abd Karimi. He was a pudgy man waddling around his hideout. Spencer wouldn't have suspected him of being one of the drug traffickers they were looking for aside from Sayeed Al-Mohhamed, but you'd informed him the man was on the run from Sayeed and may have information.

"This guy is so fucking boring," Barretti grumbled as he stared through the scope. He'd been in that position for a few hours now, lying on his belly and watching.

Spencer had been horrifically informed that if needed, snipers would do anything to remain hidden on the hilltops. That meant everything from not eating or drinking to literally crapping their pants to maintain their position of stealth.

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