Front Lines| Spencer Reid + Anne Grey

seventeen

Gideon and Reid had just arrived at the suspect's house, and they were on their way up the yard. Neither of the agents could think of anything to discuss at the time, so the walk to the front door was silent.

Spencer stops a few steps back, physically notifying Jason that he could take the lead. It was a common habit for him.

Gideon takes the opportunity without question, approaching the door and knocking three times. He had chosen not to announce himself, since if the man happened to be the unsub, he wouldn't answer to the FBI. Right now, this was just a house visit, nothing more.

Soon enough, the door swings open, revealing a balding and mildly overweight man. His eyebrows are thick and furrowed, the rest of his face following along with the expression. "Hello?"

"Alexander Miller? Jason Gideon, FBI," he says, cut off almost immediately by the man's fast departure. He had turned around and started running for the back of the house, likely not knowing where he was going.

Gideon remained still, causing Reid to sigh and start running after Alexander. It didn't take very long to catch up, since he wasn't as fast as he could have been, and he was caught trying to unlock his back door.

"Hands on your head," Spencer orders. He was still trying to get within grasping distance, but was hoping that Alexander would surrender there.

He didn't though, succeeding in unlocking the door forcing it open, stumbling outside.

Reid looks undeniably irritated, following behind and putting his right hand on the back of Alexander's shoulder, then kneeing the back of his leg.

He buckles, falling to his knees seconds later. "Fine, fine," he pants, bringing his hands to his head.

"Yeah, that's a little late," Spencer complains, grabbing his wrists and moving them to behind his back. "Gideon?"

Seconds later, the man appears in the back doorway, taking the hint and tossing a pair of cuffs toward Reid.

He misses the catch, and they fall to the ground next to him. Letting out a silent breath, he picks them up, then tightens them on the suspect's wrists.

"Well, we've got some kind of guilty party, don't we?" Jason asks, a minuscule smile on his face. He makes eye contact with Alexander, shaking his head at him. Turning back, he begins to look around the house.

Reid tilts his head back, attempting to catch his breath and lower his heart rate. He was slightly bothered about the fact that Gideon hadn't made the smallest bit of effort to give chase, but he quickly dismissed it. After all, Jason was a 60-something year old man, so Spencer was supposed to be the agile one in the situation. He forces Alexander to stand, turning him around and walking him back through the house.

"I'll call Grey," Jason says as the two pass.

"Alright, can you get someone to pick you up? I planned on driving him back to the station."

Nodding, Gideon assures, "Yeah, that works fine. Stay safe."

"Uh huh," Reid replies, nodding then heading out the front door, pushing the suspect ahead of him.

"And Reid," the agent calls.

Spencer turns back, looking at the man expectantly.

"You run like you've never heard the term in your life."

He chuckles slightly, exhaling with the swift shake of his head. "At least I run, okay?" Walking through the yard, he approaches the SUV, swinging open the back door.

"Get in," he blandly instructs, assisting Alexander in sitting down. He forces him to the center between both seats, then buckles the center seat belt around his waist. he continues to mess with the other two seatbelts for a few minutes, eventually getting them intertwined with the handcuffs and buckling them. He had gotten them tangled up well enough that it would be almost impossible for the suspect to pull any stunts on the ride back to the station. Still, Spencer confirms his safety by promising, "If you so much as adjust the way you are sitting I will pepper spray you. Are we at an understanding?"