𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒃𝒐𝒚 ↝ 𝒔. 𝒓𝒆𝒊𝒅

𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒚-𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒓

Turns out, the woman was a prostitute. 

The entire team only laughed at Reid and Avery apologized to the young doctor, squeezing his cheeks. He pushed her away with a laugh. Truth was, he didn't want to go out with the girl. Not because he had feelings for Avery or anything, that wasn't reasonable, but because it felt disrespectful to sleep with someone else when he's sexually committed to Avery.

Avery felt the same way. Reid watched her, shot after shot, until she was reasonably drunk. He knew better than anyone what it was like to drown his problems in alcohol and he only sat and watched her do the same thing. 

By the looks of it, she needed it and Reid wasn't going to stand between the woman and her tequila shots. 

After the sixth shot, Reid was counting, she gasped and turned to him. "Dance! I want to dance."

Reid quickly shook his head. "No, Ava, I don't dance-"

"I don't care!" She laughed, pulling him onto the makeshift dance floor. 

Reid only gave the DJ a look and the pace changed, a slow song echoing through the loud speakers. Avery cringed but Reid hooked a hand on her waist and pulled her closer to him, his eyes looking into yours. She only smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong now?"

She only looked up at him and furrowed her eyebrows. "I told you that nothing-"

"Bullshit," he cut her off, Avery shocked at his tone. "I know you. I know when something's wrong."

"Spencer.."

"Please don't do that, don't lock me out of this," he said as she set a head on his chest and closed her eyes. "I know something's wrong. You're all scratched up. You're jumpy."

"It's nothing I can't handle." She replied and Reid knew it was impossible.

She was a good Journalist, she knew when to expose something and when to keep her mouth shut, and most of all, she was good at it.

"If something happens-"

"I can handle it."

He met her eyes and searched them for anything that told him anything different. But she was telling the truth. Reid nodded and pressed a kiss to her forehead before she set her head back on his chest and closed her eyes, trying not to cry.

She kept going back to the moment in that alleyway with that man. Threatening her life. Threatening Reid. She couldn't let anything happen to him. She moved her arms around his torso and breathed him in, reaching up and wiping a tear from her cheek.

Reid didn't notice the girl being emotional, he only wrapped his arm over her shoulder and swaying gently to the beat of the song playing. 

She changed positions, wrapping her arms around his neck. He smiled down at her, his hands locking around her waist. Her fingers were playing with the hairs on the back of his neck, her eyes looking into his.

"I do care about you, Spencer," she said quietly, the alcohol getting to her. "You're the only person I really care about. You're the only friend I've pretty much ever had."

He chuckled, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "You know I care about you."

"You don't have to worry about me," she said to him. "I can take care of myself."

"I know," he replied to her. "I just hate thinking you're in trouble and not telling me."

She didn't say anything. Reid was about to duck down and press his lips against hers but she glanced over at the team watching them and chuckled, pulling away from him.

They all turned away and pretending like they weren't watching every move they made. Avery rolled her eyes and took a shot from Morgan's hand. 

"For profilers, you guys suck at pretending you're not nosy."

"Whatever."

The DJ changed the music again, this time, normal and upset music. Avery turned around and raised her glass to him. "Finally, some music I can dance to!"