the time travelers agent // hotchner x reader

iv. a minor inconvenience

"Thank you, have a nice day."
You silently scurry out of the shop you were just in, clutching the paper bag so tightly your fingers are turning slightly red.

Shop after shop, you looked around for places selling 40s dresses at a relatively inexpensive price. You didn't want to spend hundreds upon hundreds for something that may or may not work. You can barely believe you're even doing this to begin with.

You found a dress said to be from the year 1940, the best there was back in the day. It's long and white, with ruffled sleeves and lace cuffs. It's gorgeous, your size, and it was on sale. The salesman flirted with you a bit which made you uncomfortable, but he wasn't overly creepy when he finally got the hint that you were not interested. He found you white gloves and white boots to match that were from the same year as well.

On the boat ride back to the island, all you can think about is what you're doing. How did you go from being an intelligent FBI agent, to someone who thinks they can time travel in order to meet someone in a photograph from 80 years ago? Within quite literally a few days? Not to mention, your vacation is over in three days. That's how long you have to see if your ridiculous idea will work.

As soon as you reach the hotel, you hurry through the huge glass doors and up to your room. Passing the hall of history and forcing yourself to not go in and stare at the photo was rather difficult, considering that also caused another pang in your chest.

Fumbling for your room key before anyone from the team notices, a voice behind you proves that that was unsuccessful.

"Y/N? What have you been up to? We've been here four days already and I've seen you maybe twice." Spencer says, when you turn to look at him. He's leaning against the wall beside his room door, his long hair messy around his head. His eyebrows furrow in confusion, as he eyes your bags and your nervous expression.

"Are you okay?" He asks, and takes a step towards you. Automatically, you take a step back. You force a smile on your face, and shrug your shoulders.

"I'm fine, Spence. I just took a look at the shops around downtown and stuff. Got a cute dress for future events, no big deal. You should really go check it out." You ramble, though you know deep down that Spencer Reid is not stupid enough to fall for that.

"I see." He simply says, before going silent.

"Well, I am going to go try it on. I'll catch you later." You say with an unnecessary grin, before turning back to your door.

"Y/N." Spencer says, and you can almost feel his breath on your neck. Biting your lip, you turn your neck slightly to look up at him. His hand is on your back, his expression unreadable.

"Please just be careful." He says, then lets go of your back. There's no way he could possibly know about what shenanigans you're getting up to, or even know about the portrait at all. You don't respond, you can't form the words. You just go immediately into your room and shut the door behind you without another glance in his direction. Spencer has been in love with you for years, and the day you broke up with him broke his heart. He grew his hair out, and hasn't shaved his mustache and light beard. Lately he often has had a nasty attitude with members of the team, but never with you. Despite you being the one to break his heart, he would never hurt you; physically or verbally.

The dress fit perfectly, as well as the gloves and boots. You practiced multiple hairstyles on youtube earlier this morning, as well as moved all modern things from your room. A lie to Emily saying that the TV was damaged seemed to work as she actually believed you. You would think these FBI profilers would be able to catch lies from their co-workers a lot faster than they do. You feel bad for lying to them, they're your family. The only family you've ever really had, and you're planning to leave them over something so strange, something trivial to the rest of the team.