Closer - A Spencer Reid story (2)

9

Yn shuffled around her apartment, trying to shake off the unease of being watched. She'd been doing her best to avoid unnecessary trips outside, the constant reminder of her being in potential danger weighing heavily on her. But her thoughts kept drifting to Spencer, the way he looked at her with concern, the tension between them simmering beneath the surface of every interaction.

When Spencer arrived later that day, carrying a stack of files for them to review, Yn greeted him at the door with a polite but strained smile.

"Come on in," she said, stepping aside. "Is there any progress with the case?"

Spencer entered, his expression both weary and determined. "We've pieced together some more of the unsub's patterns, but they're still one step ahead of us. I brought over some reports—thought we could look through them together."

They settled in the living room, Spencer laying out papers, crime scene photos, and charts across the table. Yn tried to focus on the documents in front of her, but being so close to him made it difficult. She could feel his presence, his warmth, even though they sat at a careful distance. And, though she'd never admit it, she'd missed these moments with him, the quiet focus they shared as they worked side by side.

"So," Spencer began, his voice breaking her concentration, "it seems the unsub is not only fixated on me but also on details of our past. It's... unsettling, to say the least."

Yn nodded, her gaze fixed on a photo from one of the crime scenes, unwilling to let her face betray her emotions. "It feels like they're trying to manipulate you, to get into your head by dredging up the past. Have you... figured out who it could be?"

Spencer hesitated, his brow furrowing as he glanced at her. "No, but they seem to know things only a handful of people would be aware of. The messages they've sent—they're disturbingly accurate, almost as if they know exactly what strings to pull."

A chill ran through Yn, but she kept her tone steady. "So, what's our next step?"

"Continue looking for patterns, anything that links the victims and the locations." He let out a heavy sigh, pushing a hand through his hair. "Honestly, Yn, I'm not sure how much longer we can keep this up without them taking another step. And with each move, it feels like they're circling closer to you."

There was a look in his eyes, one she remembered well: a fierce, protective gleam that reminded her of the Spencer she'd once loved, the man who had been willing to put himself in harm's way for those he cared about. Her heart ached at the sight, but she quickly shoved the feeling down.

"Well, as long as we're working together, I trust we can figure this out," she replied, her voice firm. "I know you won't let anything happen to me."

He held her gaze a moment too long, a flicker of unspoken emotion passing between them, but he quickly shifted his focus back to the documents, clearing his throat. "Of course," he murmured, his voice almost too soft to hear.

As the hours passed, they poured over the files, bouncing ideas off each other and piecing together a clearer picture of the unsub's mind. But as the case grew in complexity, so did the tension between them. Every brush of their fingers when reaching for the same document, every shared glance—each moment seemed to pull them closer, reigniting old memories.

At one point, Yn got up to stretch, walking over to the window and looking out at the city below. She could feel Spencer's eyes on her, a gaze that seemed to strip away the years between them, leaving her feeling exposed in a way she hadn't felt in ages.

"I can feel you staring," she said, glancing back at him with a small, teasing smile.

Spencer quickly looked away, a faint blush rising to his cheeks. "Sorry. Just...thinking."

Yn's smile faded, her own feelings bubbling up despite her best efforts to bury them. "It's been a while since we've done this. Worked together, I mean."

"Yeah," Spencer replied, his voice quiet. "It's...different, but in a way, it feels like nothing's changed."

The words hung in the air, thick with implications. Yn wanted to respond, to acknowledge the truth behind his words, but fear held her back. She knew that crossing that line would only complicate things further. Yet, as she returned to the couch and sat beside him, she couldn't ignore the way her heart raced every time their eyes met.

As the night went on, their work became less about the case and more about reconnecting, little by little, word by word. They shared memories, recalled old cases, and filled in the gaps of the years they'd spent apart. Yn felt herself relaxing, laughing even, as Spencer recounted stories from his time with the BAU.

"It's funny," he said, leaning back, his arm resting along the back of the couch. "I always thought about you, wondering what you were up to halfway across the world. Hong Kong must have been amazing."

"It was," Yn admitted, her gaze softening. "There's something so different about the pace of life there, the people, the culture. I think it was what I needed—a fresh start."

Spencer looked down, a flicker of regret crossing his face. "I wish things hadn't ended the way they did."

Yn's heart clenched, memories of their breakup resurfacing with painful clarity. "We both did what we had to, Spencer. No one's to blame for that."

He reached out, his hand hovering just above hers, as if he wanted to touch her but was unsure. "Still, I think about it sometimes. What would have happened if we'd made different choices."

Yn forced herself to smile, ignoring the ache in her chest. "But we didn't. And now here we are, different people with different lives."

Spencer withdrew his hand, nodding slowly. "I know. It's just...sometimes I wonder."

The intensity of his gaze made her pulse quicken, and for a moment, she thought he might say something more, something that would change everything. But instead, he fell silent, the weight of his unspoken words hanging between them.

As they continued working, the moments of quiet connection became harder to ignore, the tension between them building with each passing hour. Yn could feel herself slipping, her resolve weakening with every look, every accidental brush of his hand against hers.

They were close—too close—and the lines they'd drawn so carefully over the years began to blur. Spencer was right there, a part of her past that she had tried so hard to leave behind, and yet she couldn't deny the pull he still had on her.

Finally, unable to bear the silence any longer, Yn spoke up. "Spencer, maybe we should call it a night."

He looked at her, his expression a mixture of longing and reluctance. "Yeah...maybe you're right."

But as he gathered his things to leave, he paused, turning back to her with a hesitant smile. "Thank you for tonight. For...everything."

Yn's heart ached as she watched him go, a part of her wishing she could reach out, tell him to stay. But she knew better than to let herself fall back into old habits. She had worked hard to move on, to rebuild her life, and letting Spencer back in would only reopen old wounds.

Once he was gone, Yn released a shaky breath, pressing a hand to her chest as if to steady her racing heart. She knew that spending time with him would only make things harder, but part of her couldn't help but crave the connection they once had.

As the hours passed and the night grew quiet, she found herself lying awake, haunted by the memory of his touch, his voice, the way he looked at her as if no time had passed at all.