Spencer Reid

"Hi. Table for two for Spencer."

The waitress nodded and led me to a nicely placed table, gesturing towards one of the seats.

"Here you are."

"Thank you so much." I said as I sat down. I looked around nonchalantly, my eyes wandering over the many faces in the small restaurant. I adjusted a glass that was placed on the table as I got myself situated in the seat. I pulled out a red rose from my blazer and placed it on the white table cloth, my nerves rising as I waited for her.

"Spencer?" An unfamiliar voice spoke beside me. Go time.

"Hi! Cat?" I smiled. Her posture was confident as she watched me stand up from my seat to greet her.

"It's nice to finally meet-" she started to give me a hug as she spoke, but I quickly retracted from her outstretched arms.

"Oh-- sorry, I have a-- germ thing," I stammered awkwardly, clearing my throat. She held her hands up in defense and took a step back from me. "I'm kind of weird with hugs."

"Oh, sorry," she smiled. We looked at each other for a moment, both of us taking in the other. She shrugged her shoulders and pursed her lips as she gestured to the booth opposite of the one I'd been sitting in. "Can I sit down...?"

My eyes widened and I nodded, "Yes, please. Oh yeah, of course, sit down." I sat back down in my chair as I gestured for her to do the same.

She put her purse down next to her and shrugged off her coat to reveal a dark turquoise dress that curved around her neck and left her shoulders bare. She adjusted herself accordingly, all the while keeping her eyes on me with a small smile.

I smiled uncomfortably at her, and watched her eye me questioningly.

"First time doing this, huh?" she asked, her head turned to the side.

"Yeah. I mean.. yeah." I nodded, my lips parting.

"Yeah, I-I still get nervous, too. Really, it wasn't until an hour ago that I was like, wait, we've been trading emails back and forth, but I still have no idea what this guy looks like."

"Hence the..." I gestured towards the rose.

"I know. And then I was like, wait, he's going to bring a red rose, so we need to go to a nicer place, which is why I switched the restaurant last minute--"

"Not a problem at all." I interjected.

"--And now I need to change and put something nice on for this place, 'cause I was totally underdressed," she gestured to herself and rolled her eyes. "And my whole wardrobe makes me look like a Kardashian."

My mind turned as I tried to think of the correlation between this woman and a spiffy lawyer who- I didn't think- wore dresses.

"You... don't know who that is, do you?" She said it more as a statement than a question, but I was quick to reply.

"No, oh yeah, Robert Kardashian; he got OJ Simpson off," I said with a nod. "You-- you don't look like his daughters."

"Yeah, no, I was making a joke. A bad one."

"No, it was good. It was a good joke. It was funny." I smiled.

"No, it wasn't."

We both chuckled a little, the tension between us awkward and inflating.

"Can we start over?" she asked. "Hi, I'm cat."

"Hi--hi, I'm--" I couldn't help but laugh as I stumbled over my own name. "--I'm spencer."

"It really is nice to meet you...In person, finally." She said with an innocent shrug of her shoulders.

"It's nice to meet you." I repeated with a small smile and a nod.

"Tell me a little bit about yourself. Do you really have 3 PHD's?" she asked with a tilt of her head, leaning closer.

"Yes. Um, I--yeah, I do, I have three PHD's."

"What was your favorite book that you read last year?"

"Um, honestly, I've never read a book I didn't love." I chuckled a bit.

"Tell me about your wife."

My nerves pinched as the subject was brought up immediately. There was a brief pause before I answered her, her eyes boring into mine as she waited for me to answer her.

"If you don't mind, I'd, uh, I'd rather not talk about her." I said quietly.

"Might as well get it out in the open, right? That's why we're here," she said, almost mockingly. Her eyebrows raised as she watched me. "How long have you been married?"

"Four years." I replied, my eyes looking towards the tablecloth.

"When is she due to give birth?"

I cleared my throat uncomfortably. "Uh...A couple of-- A couple of months." I sputtered, my eyes unable to meet hers for more than a second. I looked between us and the residing tables next to us, leaning closer to her across the table. "Should we talk about price now, or...?"

She leaned in too, meeting my gaze. "Slow down, tiger. What exactly are we negotiating here?" she teased.

"You know."

"I want to hear you say it."

I paused for a moment, my body leaning even closer as I spoke.

"To have her killed." I whispered. There was a long pause between us as we looked at each other, Cat's smile turning into a seductive lip bite.

"Let me see your ring." she said quickly, her eyes never leaving mine. I slowly placed my left hand on the table, my fingers spreading slightly to reveal the gold ring. Her dainty fingers touched the glistening band that wrapped around my ring finger.

"You know what that is? A noose. Only it doesn't kill you all at once. It kills you slowly, day by day," she paused and tilted her head. "You ever feel that way?" she asked.

I nodded quickly and kept my eyes down at my hand. "I feel that way all the time."

She nodded slowly, approvingly, and tucked her short hair behind her ear.

"Take it off."

"Why?" I asked.

"As a sign of your commitment," she smiled. "To me."

She held out her hand with a smirk, and I easily slipped the ring off and placed it into the palm of her hand.

She looked at the ring closely, rolling it between her fingers as she analyzed it.

"Alright, we have you over her left shoulder. Do you copy?" Hotch spoke into my ear piece. "Alright, all agents stand by. Don't move until we have it."

"Twenty-four karat?" Cat questioned.

I nodded. "Mm-hmm."

"Twenty-four K times...four years...Means this ring should be dinged and nicked. But the sucker is brand new." she zipped her purse as she took her focus away from the ring, her friendly demeanor completely wiped away from her face. "You're not married."

Before I could respond, the sound of her gun under the table clicking into place registered in my head and I knew we were done playing.

Sabrina Woods

Boxes, wrapping papers, documents, and folders littered the floor of my storage unit as I rifled through everything. The large brown boxes labeled SAM were now empty and the contents were spread out, out of order.

The tears I'd been shedding for days had finally ran out. I was determined my sister wouldn't have done what she did without telling me- it couldn't be true. My parents always hated the idea of an abortion, so it really didn't make sense that they would force her to have one- if they actually knew.

Did she have the abortion in secret? A baby in secret?

The more I thought about it though, the more it made sense; Sam and I had been so excited for her graduation trip, but she cancelled so suddenly. She'd said it was to get away from this place, get away from her heartbreak with KJ. She never came around for the holidays and would never call unless it was to tell me she wouldn't be making it to the family gathering.

I was convinced she didn't have an abortion, and I was going to prove it. Why else would my parents not care that she wasn't around that first year of school?

Even if she did have the baby, did she give it up for adoption...? She couldn't have kept taking care of a baby a secret.. especially since the last time I saw her, she was at our house for spring break, and there was no child with her?

I felt sick.

Thinking about all of the different possibilities of what could have happened, what did happen, just made me feel sick to my stomach. Especially the fact that I would never know what truly happened, since the only people who'd been accused were dead.

Michelle had been texting and calling me nonstop since the surgery, and I felt pretty terrible about that as well. I'd sent her a message asking if she was okay, and if she needed anything, but she ignored it and only left messages about Sam. She claims she did not know about the pregnancy.

I also had a few missed calls from KJ, but I knew it was Michelle's doing; KJ didn't care enough about the situation to reach out to me- he had his own life to deal with.

Nothing about Sam's supposed pregnancy were in any of the boxes I searched through , and I'd become extremely distraught trying to figure out what had gone on, and what the truth was.

I started to pick up the loose documents that I'd carelessly left on the ground, and my phone began to ring from my back pocket. I pulled it out and saw it was an unknown number.

"Land of the living, wishing I were dead, this is Brina what do you want?" I answered, continuing to pile the papers into the cardboard boxes.

"Sabrina? Hi it's me, uh.. Spencer."

I stopped packing the pages and froze, closing my eyes in embarrassment.

"Oh... hello," I said slowly. I looked back at my phone to see the number I'd answered. "Spencer, where are you calling me from? Where's your phone?" I asked, trying desperately to steer away from my greeting. He chuckled a little and cleared his throat- as he usually did-and spoke a little lower.

"I'm uh.. calling you from a payphone," he said. "I just closed a case with my team, and well...."

He paused for a moment and I furrowed my eyebrows together as I pushed the phone closer to my ear as if it would make his next words come out faster. When he didn't continue, I took a seat on one of the covered up benches that was placed against the wall.

"Spencer? What's going on?"

"Sorry, I just.. I really didn't feel like talking to the team about what happened, and you were the first person I thought to call, but my phone is dead so I walked to the nearest payphone..." he said quickly.

I blushed a bit as I considered what he'd said. "You memorized my number?" I asked softly.

He seemed to find it humorous I'd ask such a question, but upon his reply I immediately felt even more embarrassed.

"I have an eidetic memory. It's kind of hard to forget." he laughed.

"Right," I laughed awkwardly. I shook my head and cleared my throat. "Anyway, what's going on? Where are you? What can I do to help?"

I'd begun to pick up my things and push the dusty boxes back under other old pieces of furniture while I waited for Spencer to reply. It was silent for long while; long enough to make me check my phone to see if we'd been disconnected.

I walked back outside of the storage garage, grabbing hold of the door to pull it down and lock it. It rattled and squeaked as it slid down the tracks, finally slamming onto the ground. I held the phone between my shoulder and my cheek as I locked the unit.

"Where are you?" he asked.

"I asked you first." I replied, climbing into my car.

After a short sigh, Spencer laughed again, and I couldn't help the small smile that found its way to my lips upon hearing it. "I'm a few blocks away from Harry and Glenn's." he said.

"And have you eaten?" I asked, turning my car on.

"Not yet."

"Well then, I guess I'll be right there."

* ੈ✩‧₊˚

I pulled into an empty parking lot near the restaurant Spencer had mentioned and walked towards the payphone I knew he would be at.

Sure enough, after walking for a few minutes, I saw the ruffled mop of his hair leaning into his hand as he stood a few feet away from the beat up payphone.

Before he noticed me approaching, I watched him carefully: I'd noticed his disheveled hair had been growing out since I first met him. I liked the look, but I wondered if it was done purposely or if he'd been so overwhelmed recently that he hadn't had the time to get it cut. His hands continuously ran through it and fidgeted with the buttons on his shirt.

I gently touched the back of his elbow and met his gaze as I walked in front of him.

"Hi," I smiled. "Do you like hotdogs?" I asked.

Spencer's eyes locked on mine and he smiled, nodding his head. "Yeah, yeah, I do, actually."

I nodded and looped my arm through the gap between his side and hand pushed down into his pocket. "Let us eat, then."

I waited a moment for him to retract from my touch, but when he didn't, I started to walk forwards to the hot dog stand I knew was only down the street.

As usual, there was a comfortable silence between the two of us, but I couldn't help feeling anxious to know what had upset him. I decided to wait to ask, I figured he would tell me when he was ready, considering he'd called me, after all.

I ordered us two hot dogs and we sat at blue the groove-indented one piece tables. I watched him unwrap the hotdog and bite into it, chewing thoughtfully.

"Okay, the suspense is killing me," I said with a dramatic sigh. "Now that you've got half a Weiner trying to digest in your stomach, will you tell me what's going on?" I teased lightly.

Spencer chuckled a little as he wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Do you remember how I told you what's been going on with my mom?" he asked me quietly. When I nodded, he proceeded. "I had to tell the unsub we arrested today about it, and it kind of upset me."

I chewed on the inside of my lip as I listened to him speak, my hand still wrapped around the hotdog.

"I didn't want to tell the team what had been going on with her, that she'd been getting worse. I knew they would just worry and pester me about seeing her, but I'm trying to find a way to help her and I feel like once they start asking me questions, if I don't tell them exactly what I'm planning to do, I'll be lying to them." He kept his head down as he spoke, and began picking at the bread crumbs that had fallen from the bun onto the plate.

"What is it that you're planning to do?" I asked him quietly.

He ran a hand over his face and back through his hair as he contemplated telling me.

"I don't want to lie to you either," he said, looking up at me. "But I don't want to be talked out of it."

I tilted my head to the side a bit and put my hotdog down. "Is it something you need talking out of?"

"Maybe." he said, laughing softly.

"Spencer, if you think you're doing the right thing, then I think you should do it. Just as long as it's not putting you or your mother at risk." I said.

He sighed and ran another hand through his hair.

"Stop that, you're going to give yourself a receding hairline." I nagged, playfully swatting at his hand.

He laughed and folded his hands together under the table. "I don't know if it's the right thing to do," he admitted with a shrug of his shoulders. "But I also don't want to pass up the opportunity, in case it is."

"What would Dr. Reid do?" I asked. When he looked at me a bit confused, I reiterated. "What would Dr. Reid say to someone who was in this exact same position? Would he tell them to do it?"

When Spencer looked up at me, I felt my heart sink into my stomach. His deep brown eyes were glossed over with unshed tears, and his bottom lip was tucked as he tried to keep them from spilling over.

"No," he breathed. "He wouldn't." his voice was high-pitched and cracked slightly as he answered me.

I didn't know what else to do but move from my side of the bench to his and gently place my hand on his arm. "You know, I'm not very good at consolidation," I said quietly. "But I rarely ever do judge. You can tell me, Spencer. You don't ever have to worry about it going anywhere beyond me. I won't even try to talk you out of it. Just.... let me help you."

He exhaled slowly and turned his body to face mine, wiping his face with his hand. "I've been giving my mother under the table medication in hopes of helping her schizophrenia," he whispered. "The drugs are not FDA approved by any means, but I just feel like I have to try something, anything that could possibly help her, because at this point... she barely even recognizes me some days."

"And are they working?" I asked timidly.

He released a breathy laugh as he used the back of his shirtsleeve to wipe his damp cheeks. "I can't tell, because my mother seems to think it's rational to dump the medication down the toilet when I'm not looking." he cleared his throat and shook his head. "And now, I have to get more."

"Well where do you get more from?"

"Mexico." he replied.

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and Spencer began explaining more in depth what he had been doing, and what he had planned.

In one week, he was to go back down to Mexico in hopes of meeting another doctor who had originally given him a few vials of medication for his mother, Diana. Upon doing so, he would return and try starting the treatment over; this time, he would hide the vials better and keep them out of Diana's sight. Since she had been so aggressive towards Spencer and reluctant to take her medication, he had mentioned it'd become harder everyday to keep Diana under control, thus making it even harder to find an in-home caretaker. He was a bit nervous about taking the trip again, as he had lied to the team the last time and would have to do it again.

"Can I meet her?" I asked slowly. His eyebrows raised slightly as his eyes met mine.

"You want to meet my mother?" He asked. When I nodded, he looked even more puzzled. "Why?"

I about gaped at him. "You're asking me why I would want to meet the mother of the smartest person I know?" When his cheeks turned pink but didn't respond, I continued. "I would love to meet the woman who makes you dare yourself to bend the rules."

And with that, we were up and walking to my car to make the drive to meet Spencer's mother.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚

The outside of Spencer's apartment building was a trick to the unknowns eye, as the dark wood building was rotting from the outside. The sun had almost finished setting by the time we walked inside, and I wondered how spooky the building would look while it was pitch-black out.

I silently followed Spencer through the lobby and up the stairs, my eyes wandering up and down the old tan walls. When He pulled out his keys, they seemed to be rattling a bit more than they should have.

"Are you okay?" I asked him.

He nodded with a small smile as he fidgeted with the small brass key. "I've never...I mean, my mom's never met anyone in my life that wasn't a co-worker." he said quietly.

At that moment, I felt the pressure of a thousand weights on my shoulders as I began to think about what I'd really asked Spencer to do tonight-to introduce me to his mother.

"Spencer, I'm so sorry, I really didn't mean to just invite myself over and meet your mom- God, what was I thinking? That was so stupid of me, I didn't even realize..." I rambled. I could feel my face become hot as I kept talking, and almost began sweating as I watched Spencer smile at me.

"Sabrina, really. It's okay," he kept grinning. "I would really like her to meet you. You're...special."

I couldn't help the idiocy response that fell out of my mouth. "Well, hopefully not short bus special, because if that's the case, I think a doctor should diagnose me before she does."

I was internally screaming at myself. I was going to barf.

"Spencer, I do not know why I said that, it was completely insensitive, I think I am having a heat stroke."

"It's fifty degrees outside." he said, puzzled.

"Yeah, well, my body is at like one thousand degrees so..." I strained a laugh. When he started to seem genuinely concerned (by pressing the back of his hand to my forehead to check if I was feverish), I rolled my eyes playfully. "It was a joke, Spencer."

"Right." He nodded, a smile slowly- and reluctantly-making its way to his face. He then unlocked his front door, and gestured for me to walk inside.

I took a step in, my eyes landing on the many bookshelves and cases that lined the walls of the apartment. I slowly walked next to one of the cases, my eyes wandering over every book title placed perfectly on the shelf. My fingers grazed over some of the larger and heavier looking books, gently tugging at them to see if they were actually real.

Before I could ask if he had read all of them, one of the doors at the other end of the apartment swung open to reveal a tall, disheveled blonde woman. My nerves instantly rose again and I quickly retracted my hands back from the books and placed them awkwardly at my sides.

"Spencer." Was all she said.

"Hi, Mom." He replied. He seemed genuinely happy to see her, and I felt a little relieved she wasn't in the middle of an episode.

"Who's this?" she asked, her eyes darting from his to mine.

"Mom, this is Sabrina." he said, walking over towards her. I smiled at her and gave her a small wave. I wasn't sure if I should be cautious of her possible germaphobia as well, as to not extend my hand to her.

"The girl you were telling me about?" she asked, still staring at me.

"Um, yeah. Yeah, this is her, Mom." he said, almost a murmur. At this point, it felt like there could be a puddle of sweat gathering at my feet from the amount I felt dripping down my back and under my arms. I could only hope my forehead was not glistening under the harsh light of the apartment, giving myself away.

"Why did you bring her here? Are you two going on a date?" she asked.

"Mom.." Spencer whispered.

Only then, did it appear Diana was not really the serious woman she made herself seem to be.

"What?" she looked between her son and me, shrugging her shoulders. "We're all adults here, Spencer." She then moved from her spot in the bedroom doorway, sitting down on the couch in the middle of the room.

"Sabrina, why don't you sit down? We can look through Spencer's baby pictures." Diana waved her arm at me, gesturing towards the couch with a smile as she grabbed an album from under the coffee table.

A smile made its way to my face as I watched Spencer's eyes widen. "I'd love to look at Spencer's baby pictures," I said, sitting down on the couch. "In fact, I've been dying to see them."

She laughed and opened up the book to an immediate photo of Spencer in diapers.

"Mom, did you take your meds yet?" Spencer asked. When she didn't reply and kept turning the pages in the photo album, Spencer sighed. He started to pour some water in a glass, for her and his eyes met mine as he brought the water towards the coffee table.

I leaned over towards Diana and whispered playfully, "Don't worry, I've spiked his coffee. Once he passes out, we're out of here."

Diana laughed as she drank the water and handed the glass back to Spencer. "I like this girl, Spencer."

A triumphant smile reached my cheeks as I watched him grin bashfully.

"Me too, mom."

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AUTHORS                                    NOTE.

I just want to start by first saying I am PRO CHOICE! Sabrina trying to figure out whether or not Sam had an abortion is not the punch of why it hurt her so bad, if that wasn't clear. Sabrina doesn't care if she did have an abortion, she is hurt that Sam didn't tell her she was pregnant in the first place- but, she doesn't think Sabrina would have wanted an abortion, so she is determined to find something that proves that.

I wanted to make that clear before I get cancelled LOL

Also, yesterday was my birthday! I got food poisoning the night before so that wasn't fun, lol. But I was absolutely determined to update this for you guys as a gift to YOU!

If you want to see cute trailers and videos of Sabrina & Spencer (and just spencer lol), follow my tiktok @gooblernation :)

ALSO SO EXCITED BC PRISON REID IS GONNA BE IN THIS FIC UGH HES SO HOT.

luv u guys, y'all are my forever friends 😚

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