Closer - A Spencer Reid story (2)

6

Yn paced the length of her living room, her mind swirling with the unsettling conversation she'd just had with the BAU. The details were still sinking in, weighing her down. She had been looped into a case that had nothing to do with her, yet everything to do with her past. A female serial killer was fixated on Spencer, obsessed with his intellect, and now, because of her history with him, Yn was caught in the crosshairs. It made her uneasy, knowing her life was being scrutinized, and all because she had been close to Spencer once upon a time.

But close wasn't the right word, was it? They had been more than that—tangled in each other's lives, in ways that ran deep beneath the surface, even now. A few days ago, she had thought her run-in with Spencer at the coffee shop was nothing more than a strange coincidence, a ripple in the pond of her life. But it was turning out to be much more than that. And now, she was stuck.

The BAU agents—Hotch, JJ, and Rossi—had been clear about the dangers. The unsub's obsession with Spencer had shifted, bleeding over into his past relationships, and Yn, as his former lover, was now a potential target. Spencer had insisted on being the one to protect her, a decision that had raised more than a few eyebrows—especially from June, his current girlfriend.

June had been sitting at Spencer's side when the meeting had ended, her gaze sharp, scrutinizing. Yn could feel June's suspicion hanging in the air like a thick fog, her questions unspoken but palpable. The tension between the three of them had been unbearable, made worse by the fact that Spencer seemed to be growing more irritated with June by the minute. There was a time when Spencer had probably appreciated June's clinginess, her need to be close, but now? Now it felt like a noose tightening around his neck.

Yn had kept her distance, unwilling to get too close to Spencer again, even as the case forced them to spend more time together. She had tried to avoid too much interaction, retreating into the safety of her apartment, working remotely as much as she could. Her brother and Naomi had been understanding—after all, she was only supposed to be in D.C. temporarily, to help them with the newborn. But it wasn't helping. Being cooped up indoors only made the memories more vivid, as if every hour brought her closer to the Spencer she used to know.

It was a delicate dance they were performing—one wrong step and everything would come crashing down. And for some reason, Yn felt like the edge was closer than she'd thought.

The knock at the door came just after sunset, and Yn sighed, knowing who it was even before she opened it.

Spencer stood there, a paper bag in one hand and a book tucked under his arm, his usual awkward smile plastered across his face. He looked tired, his eyes dark with sleeplessness, but there was something else too—something softer. Yn could sense it, though she wasn't sure if she wanted to acknowledge it.

"Hey," Spencer said, holding up the takeout bag. "I brought some dinner. Figured you might not want to cook tonight."

Yn glanced at the bag, hesitating for a moment before stepping aside to let him in. "Thanks," she said quietly, pulling the tie of her robe a little tighter around her waist. Her hair was still damp from her shower, and she was in a pair of soft cotton pajamas, the kind of comfortable clothing she'd never have worn around Spencer when they were together. It was intimate, in a way that made her feel exposed.

Spencer's eyes flickered briefly to her wet hair before he looked away, a faint flush creeping up his neck. "I, uh, didn't mean to interrupt anything. I just thought... well, I thought you might want some company. And I brought this too." He held up the book, an old favorite of hers that they'd once talked about late into the night.

Yn smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "You remembered."

"Of course," Spencer said, his smile more genuine this time. "I remember everything."