Criminal Minds One Shots

The Bat Next Door

Dylan Marton was born blind. Since they do nothing, he keeps his eyes closed at all times. This is what initially made Spencer curious about his next door neighbor. Eventually, the two got to talking and they became good friends.

Dylan was lounging on Spencer's sofa waiting for him to get out of the shower.

"Hey, Reid I—" Morgan's gaze fell to Dylan. "Who are you?"

Dylan pulled one headphone behind his ear before responding. "I'm Dylan, Spencer's neighbor. He's taking me to the store in a bit."

"Okay, well, where is he?"

"Showering. He should be done in a few."

"Alright." Morgan nodded and looked around a bit before pulling the ottoman toward him and sitting down.

"Whatcha listening to?"

"Aerosmith."

Morgan gawked. "I didn't think pretty boy could be friends with anyone who doesn't listen to Beethoven."

"Well I do listen to Mozart—"

"There it is!"

"But! I also happen to like Aerosmith. Did your profile account for that, Mr. FBI?"

"How'd you know I'm FBI?" Morgan asked, checking himself to see if his badge was showing.

"Well as you said, pretty boy doesn't have any friends who don't listen to Beethoven."

"Yeah? What if I listen to Beethoven?"

"You made a joke about it so you probably don't, meaning you're a work friend." Dylan shrugged and changed the song.

"Huh. Ever thought of joining the FBI?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"I wouldn't be of much use."

Morgan snorted as he stood up. "I'll prove you wrong. You haven't opened your eyes, have you?"

"No."

"Okay, so you don't know what I look like."

"Correct."

"Alright. So what do you know about me? Go ahead. Profile me."

Dylan turned and faced his head toward Morgan. "Well, you're standing, probably because this exercise is to prove your dominance over me, which corroborates with your overall alpha male personality. You're probably African American based on your voice." Dylan paused. "That was probably really racist but there you have it. You're also muscular."

Morgan nodded in approval. "How'd you get the muscular part?"

Dylan shrugged. "You're FBI."

"Well so is Reid and he isn't."

"Clearly you haven't held onto his arm before."

A silence awkward only to Morgan ensued, only to be broken by Spencer.

"Okay Dylan! I'm r- oh Morgan! Um, I have your tools right here."

"Thanks. So how'd the build go?"

"Pretty well," Dylan replied. After a few moments of silence he figured Morgan was staring quizzically at him. "I'm the one who built the shelf. You thought Spencer built it?"

"You got one friend to give you the tools and another to build the shelf?"

"I don't own any tools." Dylan turned his head to Spencer. "So we going?" Dylan stood up and walked forward only to trip on the ottoman.

"Dylan!" Spencer shouted, running to help him.

"What the— who moved the ottoman??"

"Uh me," Morgan said in a questioning tone. "I was sitting on it- didn't you see me?"

Spencer and Dylan laughed for a solid minute.

"What's so funny?"

"Morgan, is it? I'm blind."

Morgan stared at Dylan. "Wait how did you build the shelf then?"

"Spencer read me the instructions and handed me the pieces. I've got nimble fingers so it was pretty easy."

"Well how about that. Dyl Pickle here's better at manual labor than you are kid!"

"Dyl Pickle? Really?"

Spencer snickered. Dylan snapped his head in Spencer's direction.

"Let that stick and you'll end up blind too."