Strange Love// Spencer Reid// Criminal Minds

2

4 years before

"Jason, it's a good piece!" I yelled, following after my boss.

He turned around and looked at me. "Brookes, no one cares about the local police business. If you haven't noticed, the people around here hate the cops."

"Just because they hold a gun and a badge, doesn't mean they're not people," I scoffed. "I'm trying to humanize them."

"I'm sorry, Brookes, it's just that this isn't what the people want to read," he shakes his head. "Try the piece on the homeless shelter kids."

I sighed, rolling my eyes. "No one wants to hear that bullshit."

"Take it or leave it."

"You hired me because you thought that my personal pieces were truthful and earnest, but now that's not good enough?" I said, my hands on my hips. "I think I'm going to leave it."

***

I sat in a bar, my third vodka soda sitting in front of me. I've had this job for 2 years and now I wasn't good enough. I gave up a lot for that job. I gave up love, many friends, other jobs, my sanity, everything.

Someone sat beside me, their eyes on me. I turned and looked at them, seeing a woman a few years older than me, dressed nicely, a margarita in her hand.

"You look familiar." She said, setting her drink down.

"Look, I'm not into girls." I chuckled, taking another drink.

"No, I'm serious," she smiled. "You're Madeline Brookes, right? The one who wrote the cops piece."

I turned and looked at her. "How'd you see that? That wasn't even published."

"My name is Bree Rosen, I write for Quantico News-"

"Bree Rosen?" I sat up taller, pushing hair from my face. "I'm sorry, I was so rude-"

"No, it's fine," she chuckled. "Someone who writes really successful articles drowning in alcohol like her whole world caved in around her?"

I turned to her and raised my eyebrows. "Fired."

"What? Really?" She asked me.

I nodded, taking another sip from my drink. "Wasn't good enough."

"How about work for me?" she asked me. "I could use a new writer, especially your kind of writing."

"What? You want me to work for you?" she nodded, making me smile. "Of course I will, yes!"

Spencer's POV

We were working on the Roadkill case when she called me for the first time. I had been cutting off my phone every time it rang until we finally got a break and I had time to answer it. 

"Hello?"

"Hi, is this Doctor Spencer Reid?" A girl on the other end asked, her voice quiet.

"It is," I said, raising a finger at JJ, who was calling me into the room. "Who's asking?"

"My name is Madeline Brookes, I write articles-"

"You're the one that wrote the article about the copycat murders in Ohio that we did!"

"Uh, yeah, that was me," she chuckled. "I was wondering if I could have a um-a quote about a current article I'm working on, if-if that's okay? If you don't have the time-"

"I'm out of town on another case right now." I said, meeting JJ's eyes again.

I held up a finger as she started talking again. "Oh, okay, that's okay, thank you for uh-"

"We should be done with this case by tonight, maybe we could, uh, meet?" I asked her.

I could hear her smile through the phone. "Where? And when?"

"You know the coffee shop by the bank?"

"Yeah, I'm there all the time." She laughs.

"There about 10, I should be back by then?"

"Sounds good, thank you so much, Doctor Reid."

"Please, call me Spencer-or Reid, either is fine, it doesn't matter.." I trailed off, my awkwardness getting the best of me.

"All right, Spencer, thank you, see you tonight!" She said and hung up.

I went into the conference room, earning looks from everyone, especially JJ.

"What?" I asked, putting my phone in my pocket.

"Who was that?" Morgan smirked, nudging me with his elbow.

"A journalist." I chuckled, looking at my feet.

"And her name?" JJ asked me.

"Madeline Brookes."

"She's the one that writes about our cases." Hotch says.

"I'm meeting her tonight," I said to them. "For coffee."

"Is that what they're calling it these days?" Morgan asked, sitting down.

I furrowed my eyebrows, not understanding his joke before turning back to the evidence board.

***

That night, I met Madeline for the first time at the coffee shop. I had just gotten off the jet and took my car there, seeing only two other people inside.

As soon as she saw me, she sat up taller and smiled, lifting her hand into a wave. I went over to her table and sat in front of her, setting my bag to the side.

"Spencer, hi." She smiled, pushing a piece of hair from her face.

On the table, there was a weird cup of whatever she was drinking, and then a black coffee with packets of sugar and cremes.

"I didn't know what to get you, so I just ordered a black coffee." She said, not meeting my eyes.

"My favorite." I smiled, assuring her.

She reached across the table and stuck her hand out. "Officially, I'm Madeline Brookes."

I smiled and took her hand in mine. "Officially, I'm Spencer Reid."

"So, you're interested in the Road Warrior case?" I asked as she smiled, twirling a spoon in her drink.

"I'm writing an in-depth article about it, and I'm just wondering what made him kill his family and all those people?" She asked, pulling a notebook from her bag, along with a pen.

"Norman Hill's daughter was killed after being struck by oncoming traffic," I said to her. "That was his trigger, but after that, he was having a psychotic break that made him see things that weren't there."

She raised her eyebrows, waiting for me to continue. 

"In his mind, he didn't remember killing his family. In his mind, when we caught him, his family was still in the car with him," I took a sip of coffee before continuing. "He was seeing everyone as the enemy, he thought that people were downgrading him and turning him into something that he wasn't."

"All because of his daughter?"

"A typical time line of grief begins with shock and intense grief for 2 weeks, followed by 2 months of strong grieving, and then a slow recovery that takes about 2 years," I said to her. "Norman was stuck in the intense grief stage where everything is hypersensitive and it was the way he handled it."

"That's kind of insane." She said, scribbling something in her notebook.

"Most of our cases are."

We talked for another hour before we decided to part ways. I stood up, throwing our trash away. We stood outside in front of each other, her fingers intertwined in front of her.

"Well, Madeline Brookes," I smiled, sticking out my hand. "I look forward to seeing you again."

"As do I, Spencer." She smiled, slipping her hand into mine.

I watched as she turned around, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, got into her car, and drove away.