Dream A Little Dream | Spencer Reid x OC

5. Waltz in Sweaters

𝙵𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝙾𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟸𝟷𝚜𝚝, 𝟸𝟶𝟶𝟻, 𝟻:𝟸𝟹 𝚙.𝚖.

The first month of Anneliese's employment with the BAU had gone well, relatively speaking. The day before, the team had returned from a case involving twin girls, and an unsub that was one of their own. Anneliese had spent the day filing paperwork detailing her involvement in the takedown, one that involved her being thrown against a wall.

Cheryl and Trish would be okay, but Anneliese supposed her shoulder would be bruised for a while.

She was about to text Lacey to ask if she'd like anything brought home for dinner, when Morgan and Garcia approached her desk with equally conniving grins. Anneliese looked up at them with narrowed eyes.

"What are the two of you up to?"

"Nothing!" Garcia was quick to reply. "We're not up to anything, why would you think we're up to something?"

Morgan glared at Garcia. "We actually just came to ask if you wanted to grab a drink at O'Keefe's with us."

"Who all is going?" Anneliese asked.

"So far, it's us, and..." he motioned towards her. "maybe you?"

"And Reid if we can convince him to come!" Garcia said.

"I'm sorry guys, I'm ready to go home and crash," Anneliese said, straightening her desk. "Have you asked JJ?"

"She had the same excuse as you, Little Miss Sunshine," Morgan said. "With Hotch's wife on bedrest and Gideon at a college panel, our only hope is you and Reid."

"So you think if you can convince me to go, I can convince Reid?" Anneliese laughed. "I may have my ways, but don't think I could convince him to go to a bar."

"Speak of the devil, here comes Pretty Boy." Morgan flicked Reid on the side of the head as he approached. "How does O'Keeffe's sound?"

"Like hell." Reid flinched away from Morgan. "I checked out a book on the complete works of Thomas Dekker and intend to finally read it."

"The Star Trek guy?" Garcia asked.

Anneliese rolled her eyes. "No, the Elizabethan writer and playwright for the Admiral's Men. In Shakespeare's time?"

Morgan and Garcia looked at her blankly, but was that admiration in Reid's eye?

"He wrote Westward Ho and Sir Thomas Wyatt with John Webster? Not ringing any bells?" Reid asked.

"You two need to read more." Anneliese said, poking Morgan's shoulder. "I can't believe you don't know Thomas Dekker. Next you'll tell me you don't know Marlowe."

"I know that one," Garcia grumbled. "Come, Chocolate Thunder, we aren't welcome in their high IQ club." she dragged Morgan away, and left Anneliese and Reid standing alone in the bullpen.

Anneliese didn't know how to properly segue the conversation, so she began to gather her things to leave.

"I'm headed home, Reid. Are you going to do the same, or just read your book here?" she teased.

"I, I guess I'll walk with you on my way out to the metro," he replied. Anneliese paused, allowing him to place a few things in his messenger bag before they walked together to the elevator. He seemed nervous, and she wondered what he wanted to say to her.

After all, they both knew the parking garage was in the complete opposite direction of the metro.

They stood together, awkwardly close, as the elevator pinged for each floor it traversed downwards. The only sounds were the whirring of the pulleys and their soft breathing.