Criminal Minds One Shots

Breakfast Raincheck (ReidxReader)

Spencer was in the kitchen making breakfast. He was wearing his boxers, a t-shirt, and gym socks. As he flipped the pancakes, he sang.

You walked in, sleepy and content. You looked at Spencer, who was shaking his butt with great enthusiasm, and smiled. How did I end up with such an amazing husband and life? you wondered silently.

Suddenly, Spencer turned around and pointed at you. Dramatically into the spatula, he sang, "And to the fella over there with the hella good hair. Won't you come on over, baby, we can shake, shake, shake." Spencer ran up to you and shimmied.

The two of you laughed as you looked up at your messy bed-head and pushed Spencer back.

"Spence, I wouldn't exactly call my hair 'hella good', not in this state at least. You know what else I wouldn't call hella good?"

"My singing?" Spencer asked jokingly.

"Well yes. But I was going to say burnt pancakes," you replied, pointing at the pan.

"Damnit! Every time!" Spencer ran over to the stove and began frantically trying to save the pancakes.

Just then, a high-pitched beeping began.

"It's no use, babe!" you shouted over the fire alarm. "Where did you put the broom??"

Spencer pointed down the hall and you returned with it, jabbing the handle at the detector.

"I get it! My husband started a fire! Quiet, please!" With one final stab, the alarm stopped screaming.

"At least the sprinklers didn't go off this time," you scoffed, looking at the charred breakfast.

"Did Daddy burn the food again?" your daughter asked as she stumbled into the breakfast nook.

"Hey! You guys say that like this happens often!"

"It does," the two of you replied.

"Yes, sweetpea, he did. But everything is okay now!" You picked your daughter up and swung her around. She screamed with delight.

Spencer leaned back against the counter, smiling broadly. He never expected his life to pan out like this.

"Alright! Since I am apparently such a bad chef," Spencer said, stealing your daughter from your grasp, "how about we switch roles, huh? You cook and I'll entertain."

You threw your hands up in surrender. "Alright then. You wanna have Daddy tell you stories?"

"Yeah!" your daughter cried. "Daddy, can you tell me a story?"

"Sure, sweetpea." Spencer kissed you and mouthed 'thank you' as he was dragged out by your exuberant daughter.

"Alright, what didn't he use up?" you rummaged through the fridge. "Still have some eggs, good, good. Um, cheese, milk..." you picked up the carton, "or not. Huh. Not much in the way of vegetation... Spence!"

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to the store. Do we need anything else?"

"No, I think we're good!"

"Got it! If she gets hungry there are some graham crackers in the pantry!" you called, grabbing your keys and leaving for the store.

When you returned home the house was eerily quiet. Confused, you walked into your daughter's room to find Spencer lazily rubbing your daughter's back. She was asleep on his chest, curled up and sucking her thumb.

"Raincheck on breakfast then," you whispered, quietly shutting the door.