Ever since Y/N joined the bau, Reid has found a way to make her life a living hell. He doesn't understand her nor wants to, not until he overhears a conversation which makes him think otherwise. She isn't a quiet, genius FBI agent, she has problems...
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Seven months.
Those seven months you saw all took place, and god did it feel amazing. You got to listen to Spencer's singing and humming, his lips against yours and all over your body. It was heaven, to say the least.
You want to tell Spencer about what happened and how it made you stay, but you're scared he might freak out and mistake you for some mentally sick person. He wouldn't, he's not that sort of person, you say to yourself.
Today is your seven month anniversary, and you're celebrating with a picnic. Again- not that you don't mind. Spencer had the idea, and although you worry he might disappear under the stars like he did a year and two months ago, you agreed. You haven't felt weird and distant lately, so this time it must be "real."
While you plan out how everything will go at the "mystery location," in your head, you're out shopping with Spencer, buying the foods you'll be taking on the picnic. You stop by the dairy section, where Spencer peers at the racks of cheese.
"You can't eat cheese, Spence," you note. He shrugs his shoulders, as though he doesn't have a care in the world that he's lactose intolerant. You roll your eyes lightheartedly and pull a smirk on your face. "Well then I guess I won't be sleeping with you tonight."
He turns to you, his eyes widening, almost popping out of his sockets. "What? Why?"
You bite down on your tongue to keep yourself from laughing, or else you might start and never shut up. You shrug, keeping a grin on your lips. "I don't know, maybe because you'll be getting up all night."
He breaks a smile and begins returning the cheese back to the rack, but you grab his wrist before he does so. "I can eat it, though." You take the packet of cheese and throw it back into the cart, letting out a short, cut off laugh.
You continue moving the cart to the remaining areas you need to get food from. You pass by the fruit section of the grocery store and stop by the strawberries, where most of them look ripe. You bring your knuckles to your mouth as you search for the prettiest strawberries, to go with the strawberry cream cheese you bought.
"Why can't we just buy fast food?" Spencer asks, almost in a kiddish tone.
"Because I can make us sandwiches," you say, flicking your eyes up to Spencer then back at the fruit. "But, if you want something small, we can always stop by before."
You sound like a mom, which almost makes you burst into tears due to how old that comment truly sounds. You brush away the feeling and continue on looking for the perfect berries. Spencer reaches forward and picks up a container of bright red strawberries, which are the best ones in the pile.
"Wow," you say, taking the plastic container from his hand. "Thanks."
"Mhm," he replies.
You move along, pulling the cart behind you in the direction to the bakery which is only a couple of steps away. You look at the tables in front of the actual bakery, which hold all of the cookies and cakes. You lean down at the dozens of containers, humming while looking through.
