coolest person I've ever met - spencer reid/oc

Chapter Seven: Movie Night

"Okay, so I thought we could cook"

"We as in you?" asked Spencer's reluctant voice on the phone.

"Nope, dr. Reid, you're gonna be chef Reid tonight"

"Ames, I've read 14 books about cooking- fourteen books, do you understand how little I know about it?"

"That's 14 more than I've ever read".

Ames heard Spence chuckle through the phone.

"Yeah, but one of your hobbies is literally baking"

"That doesn't mean anything dr. Reid, don't you know? Cuisine is in our blood"

"My blood type doesn't have cuisine in it, it only has a B. And a plus, if we're venturing out of the alphabet realm"

"Come on, Spence!!! Don't be a grouch and grab your apron!"

Spencer laughed trying to say

"Ames, I OBVIOUSLY don't have a-"

But before he could finish his sentence Amy brutally interrupted him.

"BYEEEEE! See you at 6!!!" she said, immediately hanging up on Spencer.

It would've been a miracle if the kitchen didn't implode. Spencer knew that cooking wasn't exactly his strong suit. He'd read about it, he could even go as far as saying he'd tried it. But it didn't exactly... work. He didn't want to destroy Amy's oven, but the chances of him doing it were extremely high.

°°°°°°°°°°

"Hi!" welcomed him Amy "I see you've surrendered to the power of cuisine" she commented after noticing the apron in his hand.

"I didn't have much choice now, did I?" joked Spencer, aware that he had bought the apron specifically for the occasion.

Amy was wearing a yellow botton-up shirt with tiny lines and circles on it. It accentuated her tiny waist and defined collarbone. She was wearing orange corduroy pants. And Spencer could also see her trademark converse, she chose a yellow pair tonight.

He walked in and found himself in a bright living room. House plants were sprinkled everywhere and in some cases even Christmas lights. A record player was sitting in the corner, next to a shelf full of records. The house was tidy, but homelike, too. There was a huge glass window looking on the city. It was undoubtedly a very beautiful house. On the left there was a short bookshelf, on top of it a couple of house plants and decorations that looked like action figures and teddy-bears of different kinds. Stretching the eyes behind two armchairs and a tiny table, he could catch a glimpse of a wall piano.

"You play the piano?"

"Oh, yeah, I used to when I was a kid, I was pretty good. To be honest now I'm kinda rusty. Let's just say I haven't gotten rid of the habit"

Spencer didn't wanna let it show, but he was extremely nervous and his heart was beating a tiny bit faster in his chest. So he decided to rely on something he was confident in: facts.

"You know, piano is all math. Actually, music increases our ability to learn and retain information. We most often associate math with the rhythmical aspect of music. You have to know what 2+2 equals in order to count half notes, and you have to know how many counts each measure gets in order to play a piece correctly. So just by learning to read and play music, we're simultaneously increasing our ability to perform mathematical equations as they mirror what we're learning in rhythmic notations. But the closest connection between math and music is patterns. Math can be understood as different sequences of numbers that make up certain patterns. Music can be understood as different sequences of notes that make up certain patterns. Both music and math follow specific rules and processes for understanding the patterns, such as equations or time signatures-"