FREAKING OUT ² ➢ spencer reid

LI

The second I stepped inside, Vince's face lit up; the edges of his eyes crinkling with excitement as I sat down across from him and let out a frustrated sigh. In unison, we adjusted ourselves in our seats, maintaining perfect eye contact at an attempt to assert our dominance. As we did, we sat in silence, our pupils scanning each other carefully.

"Couldn't get enough of me the first time, huh?" He eventually spoke, pulling me away from my thoughts. I glanced over and saw the edges of his lips curl upward, forming a flirtatious smirk. I rolled my eyes in response and leaned back in my chair, glancing towards the glass.

"I wouldn't say that," I replied, crossing my arms over my chest.

He snorted quietly; a plume of air pushing through his nose. "Of course you wouldn't," he stated, giving his head a quick shake, "a statement like that might make Spencer jealous."

"Ah, yes, definitely," I retorted absentmindedly. The fact that he was already resorting to such a long hanging fruit really pissed me off. He and I both knew Reid was a sensitive topic. I couldn't blame him for taking advantage of it, yet somehow I assumed right out the gate he'd go for something a little less obvious.

"How's he doing by the way? Alive and well I'm assuming since you haven't lunged across the table yet." The smirk across his face only grew, causing me to swallow hard.

"The night's still young," I mumbled under my breath. At this point I just assumed Rossi had seen the tape. Like all other interviews, the one between Vince and I had definitely been recorded, giving him somewhat of an edge in the current conversation. To say it annoyed me was a bit of an understatement, mostly because I wasn't comfortable with the disadvantage.

"Do you threaten all your suspects or am I just special?" He leaned forward in his seat, moving his wrists towards the centre of the table. Slowly, he extended his fingers, pressing the pads against the table top roughly. I glanced down and raised my brow, watching his knuckles slowly turn white from the amount of pressure he was exuding.

When I looked back up, I licked my bottom lip, watching his eyes narrow and move to my lips. The subtle change in contact made my stomach churn. I didn't like the way he looked at me. The way his eyes seemed to stare right through me sent such a shiver up my spine I wanted to tear off my skin and leave the room. "Take a guess," I said. Instinctively, I ran my palm up the length of my arm at an attempt to calm my nerves.

He threw back his head, loosen his grip on the table top as he let out a laugh. The sound was loud and abrupt and caused me to jump. Without a word, I closed my eyes in frustration, causing his laughter to grow. At that point, I knew he how happy he was. He'd gotten my guard down, even for just a moment, which in situation's like this was a big win in itself.

When my eyes finally opened I stared at him angrily. "What do you want, Vince? You're obviously well over the limit of questioning time, so why are you still here?"

"Well, you and I made a deal," he replied with a shrug.

"What deal?" I questioned.

He huffed aggressively and inched his chair forward. The legs scraped across the floor, creating a stretched out squeal that caused me to cringe. "You said that if I told you where your boyfriend was that you'd let me see Marcus," he stated coldly.

"I did say that, yes," I replied with a nod, "but you didn't do that, did you?"

He opened his mouth and widened his eyes, offering me a look of offence as he moved his cuffed hands to motion to his chest. "Actually I did. I said he was in a warehouse," he snapped. After he spoke he pointed in my direction. "Do you remember that? Or were you too busy imaging your hands around my throat to even listen?"