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The voice at the front of the bullpen droned on and on, talking about proper workplace behavior or some other equally dull HR protocol. You could recite the guidelines in your sleep by now and you were struggling to focus on the presentation.
It was nearing the end of your second day as the BAU’s communication liaison- not that you had met the team yet. Strauss had brought you on board with little heads-up and, of course, the team was away yesterday being the badass crime fighters that they are. You felt a twang of something like jealousy. Sure, you were a part of the team, or at least you were hypothetically going to be, but you wondered if you would really fit in. You were an agent, of course, but you wouldn’t be in the field like they would. Either way, you would hopefully meet your new teammates tomorrow. Fingers crossed that it all went well.
For now, you were trying, and failing, to concentrate on the multiple speakers at the front of the room. Luckily, you had found a spot close to the back, well hidden from view. Another man started speaking, and you observed him for a moment before leaning over to the person sitting beside you. “He looks like he hasn’t smiled in a hundred years.”
The man next to you looked startled, glancing up from the paper he had been writing rapidly on. He blinked for a second, looking between you and the speaker before letting out a soft laugh. “At least a hundred and one.”
You snorted, covering your mouth with your hand quickly and blushing. The man beside you smiled before turning back to his paper. You studied his profile, noting the unruly hair that fell in front of his eyes despite the fact that he kept attempting to push it back. His glasses slid down his nose as he wrote furiously. Doodling? You peered closer- definitely not doodles. The writing looked like it either had to be hieroglyphics or an insanely complicated math problem.
The man looked back up at you and you realized how absolutely nosy you must look. “Sorry,” you murmured. “I was distracted by the hieroglyphics.”
He perked up at that, smiling brightly. “Actually, it’s the Callan-Symanzik equation. It’s a first-principles equation with numerous applications, one of which allows us to estimate the mass and size of the proton and the neutron. It’s quite fascinating-”
“Reid.” The man from before, the one with the smileless face, shot a glare at him and he closed his mouth sheepishly.
“Sorry,” he- Reid, you supposed- muttered out the side of his mouth. You nudged his foot with yours, smiling at him when he made eye contact with you.
The two of you sat in comfortable silence as you tried to listen to the speakers at the front of the room. One of them began to talk about sexual harassment in the workplace and you heard rustling coming for a few seats away. You turned slightly to study the two people who were whispering in hushed tones, one of them elbowing the other.
You leaned over towards Reid, whispering, “I bet those two are the reason we have to have sexual harassment presentations.”
He followed your gaze to the two people before laughing quietly. “You have no idea how right you are.”
“And that guy,” you jerked your head toward an older Italian man sitting next to Mister No-Laughs. “He looks like he’s the reason we have fraternization rules in the first place. I bet he’s on like his seventh wife.”
Reid’s eyes widened at that. “You’ve gotta be a pro-” His sentence was cut off by the presentation at the front of the room ending, everyone standing up to leave. You turned towards him, wanting to keep talking, only to be approached by Chief Strauss. She motioned for you to follow her and you smiled apologetically at Reid before walking away from him.
He stared at your receding figure, trying to calculate who you were and exactly what you were doing there, but he came up blank.
Strauss ushered you into her office, briefly explaining to you that you were going to meet the team before everyone left for the night. You hadn’t realized they had even come back from their last case, but you were excited to finally get to meet them.
She led you to a small conference room, knocking on the door before opening it immediately. You stepped through the doorway behind her, mouth dropping open when you spotted Reid. Then you looked around at the rest of the people in the room. Mister No-Laughs. The Italian with seven wives. The blonde woman and muscular man who had been elbowing each other. Shit.
You locked eyes with Reid, your face turning red as he grinned at you.
“Everyone,” Strauss announced, “this is Y/N. She’s going to be your new communication liaison. She comes highly qualified and recommended. Use her. I’ll let you all make your introductions.” With that brief statement, she nodded at you before exiting the room.
Mister No-Laughs shook your hand, and you almost felt yourself wither up and die as you felt Reid’s eyes on you. “Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief. You can call me Hotch.” Great. He was your boss. You could almost taste your foot in your mouth.
The Italian with seven wives was next. “David Rossi.”
The blonde woman practically bounced over to you, hugging you gleefully. “Penelope Garcia.” Damn it, she was lovely. Now you felt bad for what you had said.
Her partner in crime was next, arching an eyebrow at you. “Derek Morgan.”
The last two women, Emily and JJ, introduced themselves. Thankfully you hadn’t made any stupid remarks about them to Reid. Four out of six though- not a great look.
The rest of the team turned to Reid, looking at him expectantly. “We’ve kind of already met,” he said with a laugh. “I’m Spencer Reid. And I’m a little surprised you’re the communication liaison. You’d make a pretty great profiler.”
Your cheeks were burning as JJ asked him what he meant by that. You were about to get completely thrown under the bus by this ridiculously smart, stupidly handsome man- not to mention, your new teammate.
“She’s pretty perceptive,” Spencer teased. “Although you got the number of Rossi’s wives wrong.”
Emily snorted at that as Rossi turned to look at you. “Am I really that obvious?”
“What was your guess?” Penelope giggled. Everyone was staring at you, amused expressions on all of their faces. You were in too deep now. Time to just roll with it.
“Um…. seven?” You shrugged at them sheepishly. “I was being hyperbolic though! Unless you really do have seven ex-wives, in which case I am totally not judging. Well… maybe a little.”
Even Hotch chuckled at that, and you grinned broadly. It couldn’t be all bad if you could make the man who looked like he hadn’t smiled in a hundred and one years laugh. Maybe you would fit in here after all.
The team exchanged a few more welcomes, expressing their excitement at you joining the team, before beginning to leave to go home. It had gotten late, and you said goodnight to everyone as they left. Your first full day with them would be tomorrow and you were more eager than ever. If this was going to be your team, you were so into it.
You felt a hand tap you on the shoulder as you went to leave. When you spun around, you found yourself face to face with Spencer. Alarmingly face to face, only a few inches between the two of you, though neither of you made any move to back up.
Spencer stared at you, seemingly forgetting what it was he wanted to say. You broke the silence, smirking at him. “Thanks for throwing me under the bus there, Spencer.”
His face turned red at your words and he stammered for a moment. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, it was just-”
“Relax,” you laid a hand on his arm, and he seemed to flush even more at the contact. “It was funny. No harm done. My fault for shit-talking to a random stranger the second day of a new job anyway.”
“You were pretty spot-on,” Spencer admitted.
You grinned at that, shrugging modestly. “I didn’t get a chance to profile you, though. Pity.”
He raised an eyebrow at you, fidgeting with the strap of his messenger bag. “And if you did?”
You took that as a challenge, leaning back against the table and crossing your arms as you studied him. He shifted under your gaze, his awkward smile wildly endearing.
“Hm,” you hummed. “Well, you’re quite obviously a genius. Probably have a million degrees. I wouldn’t be surprised if you were some kind of doctor. Probably not medical though, I’d imagine the sight of blood makes you squeamish, although years on the job have gotten you relatively used to it. You have at least three books in that bag of yours, so you’re a prolific reader. You’ve already read those multiple times judging by how worn they look. Also, you fidget when you’re nervous and your nose twitches when you’re thinking really hard.”
You stopped your rambling, finally looking up to make eye contact with Spencer. “How’d I do?”
He blinked at you, eyes wide as he ran a hand through his already messy hair. “You scare me.”
You laughed at that, beaming at him. He smiled back at you and you noted how his hands fidgeted with the hem of his cardigan. God, he was cute. This was going to be dangerous.
You leaned closer to him, watching his cheeks redden again before whispering into his ear, “I’m really looking forward to getting to know you, Spencer Reid.”