“Did we miss something important, Hotch?” you laughed. He blinked awkwardly at him, slightly embarrassed and confused. “Oh.” He took a step back, only now noticing the man sitting in his unassigned assigned seat. “Sorry,” Spencer whispered and walked around to the other side of the table, going for the usual spot in one of the two empty chairs that sat side-by-side. “Your tardiness isn’t something to be proud of, agents.” You playfully rolled your eyes at her, “Should be used to it by now.” It happened often enough that Emily’s quips were getting repetitive. ![]() “So nice of you to finally join us,” Emily crooned as the two of you finally walked in, the last to arrive. One that you were already three minutes late to. That morning, you had to leave Spencer’s side because Hotch called everyone in for an early morning meeting. Even with no coffee and no crossword, you’d stay at his desk until it was absolutely imperative to start working, or until Hotch came in and gave you one of his disapproving looks. Making the coffee only took three, and doing the puzzle never took more than nine, and somehow the excess of eight minutes was always too short. Mostly, though, that extra twenty minutes before work was never enough. Until you’d burned your esophagus one too many times trying to get ahead, and for your own good Spencer had to implement a rule against competitions. There were also days where you’d compete to see who would finish first Spencer and the crossword, or you and the coffee. And days where the puzzle was forgotten entirely in favor of conversation. There were days he finished the puzzle before you even finished your coffee. You learned that his homemade coffee is better than anything, and stopped letting him buy your coffee in lieu of making them himself. Since then, he’s shaved his time down to five minutes and thirty seven seconds. Still, he offered to pay for that cup of coffee.Īnd a routine was somehow born from that. He did it in six minutes and forty-two seconds. ![]() If he couldn’t do it in seven and a half, he was to buy you a cup of coffee. So, the next morning you strolled up with the Times and challenged him to complete it. It seemed outlandish to you, but you’d only met him a few days prior and hadn’t yet learned not to question that kind of thing. It started because you didn’t believe him when he said he finished the Sunday puzzle – objectively, the hardest of the week – in roughly seven minutes. With your specially-made coffee in hand, you’d time Spencer while he worked, just to keep him honest about how fast he could really solve the puzzles. Even though Spencer had subscriptions to every newspaper around town, you still brought one in, and while he was in the kitchenette making his top secret coffee, you waited for him at his desk. ![]() You and Spencer would always arrive at the office twenty minutes early. Of course he was going to do that it was your routine since forever. I’ll bring the paper, you make the coffee,” you joked, bumping the side of his arm. Because then you wouldn’t need him to do it. In fact, for that exact reason, he didn’t want to tell you. You’ve asked him for his secret and he refused to tell you, mostly because he didn’t mind making it for you. Spencer always made the best coffee in the world. You picked up your almost finished cup of coffee and took a slow sip, savoring the last remaining bits. He might not have beat his record, but at least this morning wasn’t a total waste. I know.” Shaking your head, you hopped off the top of his desk, removing the stopwatch dangling from around your neck on a lanyard and placing it neatly inside his cup of highlighters. You already knew what he was going to say. Reading his mind, you added, “You know, I keep telling you to just use a pencil so you don’t have those bothersome ink issues.” He blames it on the fact that he ran out of ink halfway through writing the word jeremiad, and wasted fifteen seconds in searching for a new one. He sighed and dejectedly tossed his pen back onto his desk. You knew he’d been so looking forward to beating his already fast time. “I’m so sorry, my love,” you rubbed your thumb along the tense muscle between his neck and shoulder. He was pretty sure he beat his record, until you half-winced and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Time!” Spencer filled in the last empty space of his crossword puzzle and with the brightest of smiles, shot his head up from the newspaper in excitement. ![]() this is my fantasy world and i make up the situations, and that means i get all my fav characters in one fic even if they never even met in the show.Ĭategory: fluff! so much fluff. it’s not until the addition of a new, handsome employee, that spencer has to challenge what that really means to him.Ī/n: you might be confused why the characters don’t match up to the show’s timeline… that is because i do not respect canon. Summary: you and spencer have always had a relationship that some refer to as ‘work spouses’.
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