Killer Affair | Spencer Reid Short Story

Liar Liar

Spencer

Gwendolyn Moore.

I read through the background check Garcia sent me, the edges of the report crinkling in my hands. It was risky to ask her to look up Gwendolyn Moore, but she didn't question my excuse. I told her I just wanted to be sure I wasn't walking into something I didn't understand—Garcia seemed satisfied with that, thankfully.

And now, sitting here alone in the office, I wonder how much I don't understand about Gwen. I know she held back during our date—lots of people do, even unintentionally. But there are gaps I can't shake, and the little things she did share are littered with lies.

She told me she was 32.

She's 26.

A harmless enough lie, maybe. But when paired with the rest of her record... there's something strange about it. Her record's almost *too* clean. No parking tickets, no speeding infractions, not even a small fine from her younger years. It's pristine in a way that seems intentionally manicured.

Why lie about her age? And what else hasn't she told me?

I feel my phone buzz against the desktop, It's Gwen.

Can I bring dinner?

I stare at the screen longer than I'd like and eventually answer.

Sounds great :)

I try to relax, though the questions press against the back of my mind. I watch her as we sit on the couch, her gaze drifting over the television. She seems uncharacteristically open, more willing to let the silence linger. But it feels different now, knowing what I know. I take a breath, deciding to confront her with as much care as I can.

"So," I start, trying to sound casual, "you told me you're 32."

She glances at me, her face guarded but curious. "Yeah. Why?"

"Well," I continue, keeping my tone as light as possible, "You're actually 26."

A flush creeps into her cheeks, and she lets out a soft, nervous laugh. "Guess I should have known you'd check up on me, Mr. FBI." She pauses, to see how I'll react maybe.

"I just... I thought you might not take me seriously if you knew I was younger."

The way she says it feels practiced. There's no stammer, no real hesitation. But I can't ignore the tension in her shoulders, the slight twitch at the corner of her mouth.

"Gwen," I say carefully, "I'd take you seriously no matter what but, I need you to be honest. I don't want you lying to my face."

For a moment, she doesn't respond, her eyes fixed somewhere over my shoulder. Then she nods, the movement small and almost reluctant. "You're right. I... I'll be honest with you from now on, I promise."

I study her expression, trying to read between the lines, but she holds her composure. She smiles a little, brushing her hand against mine, and I let myself relax, if only a bit. Still, the unease lingers, twisting in the back of my mind like a loose thread waiting to unravel.

"Are you analyzing me right now?" She furrows her brow at me and I can't help but chuckle.

"A little bit, yeah."

She rolls her eyes, her reaction makes me ease up a bit more. Not everyone is a serial killer, Spencer. I remind myself and something about the way she teases me just makes all the thoughts slide away.

But the comfort doesn't last long. The words she didn't say linger, and the silence between us takes on a different weight. I can feel the secrets pressing at the edges, but I know if I push too hard, I'll scare her away. There's a delicate balance here—one misstep, and it could all come crashing down.

Eventually, she pulls back, her eyes bright but wary, as if studying me. "You're awfully quiet tonight, Spencer."

I force a smile. "Just... thinking."

"Anything I should worry about?" Her question is lighthearted, but there's something in her tone—almost as if she's afraid of what I might say.

"No," I answer too quickly. "Nothing like that."

She gives me a faint, knowing smile. "You're not as subtle as you think, you know."

Her comment catches me off guard, and I laugh, nervously. "Guess I'm not." It's strange—she seems to know me well, maybe better than I thought she could, given how little time we've known each other. The thought is both comforting and unsettling.

We finish dinner, and I offer to clean up, letting her settle back on the couch. As I rinse the plates, I can hear her humming softly, a tune I don't recognize. It's simple, almost childlike, but it has a haunting quality that draws me in. I wonder if it's a song she grew up with—a little piece of her history that she's letting slip through. Just as I'm thinking this, I feel her watching me, and I glance over my shoulder.

"What's that song?" I ask, trying to sound casual.

She shrugs, looking almost shy. "Just something my mom used to sing."

There's a flicker in her eyes, a vulnerability I haven't seen before. It makes her seem... real. Human, somehow, in a way I didn't expect. I dry my hands and walk back to the couch, settling in beside her.

She shifts closer to me, resting her head against my chest, and I can't help but feel a pang of guilt. Here I am, analyzing every word, every glance, every silence—trying to decipher the truth hidden behind her walls. But maybe, just for tonight, I can set it aside. Maybe, just for tonight, I can let myself believe this is real.

Despite my sudden nervousness, I press a kiss to her forehead, feeling her relax against me, and she closes her eyes, a faint smile on her lips. I let the moment stretch, allowing myself to enjoy the calm before whatever storm may come. But somewhere, deep down, I can feel the warning—a faint echo in my mind reminding me that something still doesn't fit.

Yet, as she drifts off to sleep beside me, her hand resting lightly on my chest, I push the thought away, losing myself in the quiet rise and fall of her breathing.

I'll have Garcia run another background check, I want to know her past, call me a stalker if you must but, I need to know.

What did she go through that made her so suspicious, she has all these walls up like she's hiding this big secret. It's one of the many things that make me drawn to her unfortunately. I have a feeling Gwen isn't just some girl, I feel things for her that I've never felt for anyone.

Not even Maeve.

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AN: Short chapter today sorry guys i got cheer tryouts 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️ i just wanted to get something up!