Innocence [ spencer reid x reader ] ✔

seventeen: undercover

"Someone's killing exotic dancers in Detroit?"

"Six exotic dancers, actually," Garcia says from the little monitor on the plane. "All from the same club. All in their late twenties."

"Great," you mutter, leaning back in the leather seat.

You look at the file in front of you, flipping through the crime scene photos and reading over the coroner's reports. You look up at Prentiss and Morgan sitting in front of you, eyeing you and Spencer curiously.

Sighing, you close the file. "I apologize for yelling at you guys. I did it Spencer's best interest at heart. No, I do not regret the things I said." You fold your hands in front of you. "All that matters is that Spencer is clean and he's here." Prentiss gives you a little smile. "I just want us to be able to work together without hard feelings."

Morgan smiles at you. "We understand why you said what you said."

"No hard feelings." Prentiss' smile grows wider.

You return her smile. "Good."

"I love you guys," Garcia pipes up from the monitor.

Spencer laughs softly next to you. "We love you, Garcia."

"So, all of these women are lured out of the club and shot?" You ask, inhaling deeply.

"They're all carved into as well," Spencer muses, knitting his eyebrows together. "For the most part they're all positive words—pretty, sexy."

"The latest kill isn't positive, though," Prentiss says.

"'Whore'," Hotch quotes, looking at the picture. "I wonder what made the unsub change their signature like that."

"He might be escalating," you guess, closing the file.

"He could be, but we won't know until he strikes next."

"When does he strike?"

"Friday and Saturday nights, usually," Garcia says.

You turn your head to Hotch to find him looking at you, his eyebrows knit together. You flash him a look before turning back to Spencer.

"When we touch down in Detroit, I want Prentiss and Morgan to go to the club. Reid, go look at the bodies and see if you can find anything weird. Y/l/n, you're with me. We're going to go to the station and work up a geological profile."

"Yes, sir," you mumble, leaning back in your seat again.

Garcia says bye, letting her monitor click off. You look over at Spencer, finding his eyes already on your face. You grin at him, and he reaches over to lace his fingers with yours, his thumb rubbing across the side of your hand. You shift closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder. He rests the side of his head on the top of yours, and you feel him relax.