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radiant-reid · 2 years

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The Public Eye

Summary: Spencer gets closer to a famous actress, discovering they're incredibly similar and she really likes him

reader is the famous actress that reid kisses in the pool instead of lila archer with s/8 spence, and the team teases him ofc but he thinks nothing of it, but later in an interview she says he’s the best kiss she’s ever had and penelope (bc who else would be up to date on pop culture hotch? LMAO) is ecstatic and shows it to him

A/n: I went for season 8 Spencer because he deserved some of the happiness the CM writers refused to give him,but this isn't a direct rewriting of the plot in 1x18 Also, there is a part two coming

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: stalking | being held at gun point | discussion about the dark side of Hollywood (disordered eating, racism, sexism)

Word Count: 8.6k how ? idk and i'm sorry

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When the first few murders happened in LA, Y/n was slightly concerned. Of course, crime had never been uncommon in the city, but the people being viciously killed were her fellow celebrities, people she'd brushed shoulders with at the Oscars or Golden Globes. Usually, she only heard about burglaries in their neighborhoods.

The terror sunk in when the notes started coming in. The threatening content caused enough grave concern for her manager to be dragging her to the police station. She was worried for her safety, but there wasn't any way she would get a reputation of being noncommital.

When the police detective introduced her to the BAU of the FBI, she didn't understand what part of her situation warranted that level of seriousness.

The team immediately recognized it had to be the same person. Especially when the note came right after the latest victim was found. They didn't wait to go and talk to the actress and her slightly irritating manager, Stephen.

Spencer didn't know much about pop culture or celebrities. Obviously, he figured they had to be attractive and appeal to the golden ratio. His expectations were exceeded an impossible level when he met Y/n L/n. So beautiful, in fact, that Spencer was considering watching some of the movies and TV shows she was in. If it wasn't unprofessional.

"It's only letters." Y/n tried to plead with the six agents and the high-ranking members of the LAPD. She turned to look at her manager, eyes begging him to side with her. Being put in protective custody wasn't something she could afford to do. "Seriously, I've had crazy fans before. Remember the guy that broke into my place and cooked me dinner." She reminded him and the police detective who had handled the case back then.

Spencer frowned at the anecdote, amazed it was something she could casually deal with. He'd seen it in other stalker cases, but somehow it hadn't occurred to him that famous people weren't always adored.

"Situations like this almost always turn violent if you don't comply to these demands," Spencer informed her of a part of their profile, reading over the note. "Especially since this person has already killed."

Y/n turned to him, frowning as she looked around the room like she was asking if Spencer was serious. She was dumbfounded, both by what he was saying, and his lack of bedside manner.

Her manager looked at her sternly. "This is just as serious as I told you it was, Cariño."

It wasn't easy news to process, but her initial reaction was stubbornness, giving everyone the allusion she was just like any other pretentious celebrity. "I'm not just going to bail on my commitments because of some creep." She firmly stated.

Morgan was looking increasingly irritated, picking up a headshot to show her. "Do you know who this is?" He asked her.

There was no confusion on her features, just annoyance, but at the photo, not the situation. "Of course, she's doing this. In the last week, she's done two interviews where all she did was drag my name." She told them, most definitely still irritated about it. "Girls supporting girls has not caught on in Hollywood." She scoffed, meeting JJ and Blake's eyes in the hope they'd relate.

Spencer knew what Morgan was about to do, and he wanted to stop him from sliding the photo to her because he could see a flicker of another emotion in her eyes. "She turned up dead this morning." He informed her.

Her eyes widened when she looked at the photo, jaw falling open. The color was draining from her face when she looked at the brutal wounds. It was, for lack of a better term, a bloodbath. The unsub's most vicious kill.

Guilty, she looked between Hotch and the police chief. "I-I didn't. I swear-" She stammered out, assuming that's what they were insinuating.

Alex placed a hand on her shoulder. "We don't think that you did." She assured the younger girl, who finally looked like she could breathe again after hearing that.

"What am I meant to do?" Y/n asked, her eyes shifting to Hotch, who she could see was in authority.

"She needs to go to set today," Stephen informed Hotch like her life was worth less than his paycheck. She nodded anyway despite how scared she looked.

Hotch sighed, glancing at the police chief as he came up with a plan. He could see how persistent the two of them were. "Make sure they clear all the nonessential personal from the set, and Morgan and Reid will go with you." He instructed her manager before looking at the two younger male agents, who nodded. They caught the underlying meaning of studying her victimology. "Ms. L/n, we're going to have to comb through everything about your life. There will be officers around you all the time. It's likely you know who this person is."

Her face paled again, and she had an urge to be sick. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure if I can be of any help. I meet so many people each day." They always profiled before having suspects anyway.

While Y/n was handing all her information over, Hotch rounded up the team to go over their job. Spencer and Morgan, obviously, were going with her, Rossi to the latest crime scene, JJ was dealing with the media circus, Blake to the ME, and Hotch was running point from the precinct.

"Did you really have to show her the gruesome photos?" Spencer asked Morgan on the short walk to the SUV while the paparazzi clamored around them. The sun was almost too hot and the atmosphere too muggy for Spencer to be in a suit.

Slightly, he frowned, eyeing Spencer with suspicion, like he was trying to find out what he was thinking. "You're sweet on her." He spoke after a moment, with a teasing tone.

He tried to stop his eyes from bulging. "N-no, I'm not." His attempt to sound firm was futile. "A serial killer is stalking her. I just... feel bad for her, that's all."

"Mmhmm," Morgan commented, completely skeptical. "All I'm saying is she's pretty."

It was an understatement, and Spencer wasn't about to ruin his career, but if it was in a different universe, he'd be jealous of the fact she'd be interested in Morgan. Trying not to think about the hypothetical, he got in the passenger seat.

Morgan drove, getting directions from Y/n. He tried to engage her in some form of conversation and drag her attention away from her phone. "So, you like LA?"

She half scoffed, half chuckled, still scrolling on her screen. "Does anyone?"

He shrugged at that. "I saw your last movie. It was good." He complimented, causing her to look up at him.

"Thank you," Y/n replied, the second time Spencer had seen her genuine, even enthusiastic. "It was the first all-star, A list cast movie I've ever done. I remember being nervous the entire week before the first day." Spencer was taking in everything she was saying, profiling but also admiring.

"Your performance was incredible." The smile she gave Morgan was, as well. Spencer wished he'd seen it if it meant he got to see her smile like that. "You won an Oscar, right?"

She grinned even wider at that. "Best supporting actress and the movie won best picture." She replied, not in a boasting tone Spencer had expected from a celebrity. "I really wasn't sure what to say when I got up on stage because I definitely didn't think I'd win." Y/n continued, blushing when she replied she'd been rambling like she was scared of showing them her true personality. "It's in my bedroom if you wanna come see it." She offered, flashing him a flirty wink.

Morgan's reaction was what Spencer expected. The smirk Morgan was trying to hide was an expression he made at bars. "Who's your favorite person you've worked with?" He asked her, diverting the conversation to keep his professionalism.

She had already turned off her phone, gaze fixed on Morgan through the mirror. "Emma Watson." She answered without hesitation. "And, she knew who I was, so that was like a 'wow, I made it' moment. Blake Lively and Ryan Reynolds are also fun, but I've only seen them at parties. Just as funny as they are on Instagram and Twitter." She realized she was doing it again, truthfully expressing herself, and stopped, getting out of the car once Morgan had parked without another word.

Two FBI agents acting as an entourage was not how she expected to arrive at set, but she didn't let it deter her from acting naturally. Her public, bubbly persona was something she wore like a shield. They trailed after her while she greeted everyone. Sociable, Spencer acknowledged, talking to everyone from the people putting food out on the buffet table to the producers.

Y/n turned back to them, clearly in her element. "You guys can have anything you want to eat or drink." She offered, spinning away from them when someone called her name.

It was a guy Spencer didn't recognize. Probably a celebrity since he wasn't wearing a shirt, muscles rivaling Morgan's. Spencer knew it was illogical, but it made him insecure. His brain went back to studying her victimology like he was meant to be doing.

The guy, who Morgan identified as her co-star, wrapped his arms around Y/n and lifted her up as he hugged her. "Brought some bodyguards today, princess?" He asked, reaching out to shake Morgan's hand with Y/n tucked under his other arm.

Spencer noticed her stiffen, but it was slight enough no one else did. "Yeah, something like that." She replied, pleading with the agents to not reveal her secret. They didn't even have a chance to before Y/n was being called to hair and make-up.

"I'll check her trailer, and you go with her," Morgan instructed, already stepping away like he knew Spencer would protest.

"What? Can't I go to the trailer?" Spencer challenged, feeling increasingly uncomfortable about being left alone with at least a hundred people on the film set. Profiling her trailer would be much less challenging, providing him with fewer possibilities to look like an idiot. Morgan turned to shake his head, already walking off. "Please, man?"

Spencer didn't get an answer before Morgan was gone, and he followed the direction Y/n went. He found her sitting in a swivel chair with her name on the back, dressed in a white robe.

"Hi." She waved when he came in, nodding at the seat next to her in a silent invitation to sit down. "Riley, this is Spencer. Spencer, Riley." Y/n introduced them. Spencer hadn't realized she knew his first name, but it sounded nice coming from her.

She shut her eyes when Riley put what Spencer thought was a pen on her eyelid. Intently, he watched as she drew perfect straight lines. She could sense he was looking at her, confirming her theory when she opened her eyes.

"You can ask me anything you need to in front of her," Y/n assured him with a smile. She could feel the nerves coming off him, noticing he was out of his comfort zone.

Spencer nodded, all of the questions he'd thought of asking her slipping out of his head. "D-did you know the beauty industry is valued at $527.4 billion a year?" He immediately blushed, already feeling like an idiot.

It wasn't exactly the question she was expecting. She could sense Riley chuckling at him warmly, but Y/n wouldn't have hesitated to kick her out if it was malicious.

"I didn't, but this set probably contributes half of that," Y/n answered, unknowingly reassuring him. "You're some kind of a genius, aren't you?"

Spencer could not contain the blush on his cheeks, hoping they'd think it was the weather. "I, uh, have a Ph.D. W-well, three." Apparently, it wasn't the answer Y/n or Riley had expected, from the way their eyes widened.

"Beauty and brains," Riley remarked to the actress, but Spencer caught it. His blushing only intensified when Y/n shot him a wink.

He tried to focus on the investigation, asking her questions about what she did each day so he could feed the information back to Penelope, who was digging through her life. He struggled to differentiate between her public eye character traits and her authentic personality.

"Spence, can I do your hair?" She asked him while she was having her hair done. His eyebrows furrowed together as he watched her snap the hair straightener together in her hands.

"And ruin those beautiful curls?" Riley commented, effortlessly twirling strands of Y/n's hair into perfect ringlets. Hearing people talk about him like that made him blush while his ego grew slightly.

Y/n was still grinning hopefully at him. He couldn't turn that down. "Uh, yeah, o-okay." Spencer agreed.

He turned around while Y/n adjusted her position, letting her clamp strands of his hair between the hot irons. It didn't take her very long to have his hair all straightened, running the end of a comb through it, so he had a middle part.

"Hey, pass me your phone." She requested, holding her hand out for Spencer to place his phone in.

Without thinking, he gave it to her, unlocked. There were secrets on the phone, but he was willing to do just about anything she asked. Y/n took a photo of his hair from the back. Before turning the camera around to hold it in front of his face. Using it as a mirror to show him the front view of his hair, she grinned as she looked into the lens, snapping a picture. Spencer always objected when Penelope tried to get him in her selfies, but he was sure he wouldn't be deleting the one she just took.

Y/n's fingers were still in his hair, gentle as she adjusted it. Spencer knew he shouldn't, but he liked being around her. Even if he was really just a bodyguard trying to figure out as much as he could about her because she was being obsessively stalked.

"I think it looks great." She told him when he spun back around to face her.

"Okay, you're done," Riley informed her, fluffing out her curls at the end.

Y/n looked at herself done up in the mirror for a moment. "Thank you. It looks amazing." She replied, flashing her friend an award-winning. Her phone buzzed on the dressing room table, and she picked it up to glance over the message. "No time to rest around here." She joked, getting up from her seat. Spencer followed, and they farewelled Riley before the tent.

Spencer insisted on walking her towards the wardrobe tent. Although the set was essential personnel only, it was still bustling with people. "If you, uh, n-need anything, I'll be... around." He assured her, awkwardly fiddling with his fingers.

"Thank you." Y/n sincerely replied, squeezing him on the arm before disappearing.

Spencer walked back across the set in search of Morgan. He found him stepping out of Y/n's trailer, his phone to his ear.

"Hey, baby girl, I'll call you back real quick," Morgan said as soon as his eyes locked on Spencer, or more specifically, his new hairdo. He walked to Spencer with a teasing smirk, shaking his head gently. "Pretty boy." He singsonged, clearly amused. "What happened to you?"

Spencer rolled his eyes, dodging Morgan's hand when it came to messy it. "She wanted to straighten it." He answered, trying to casually shrug it off. It only made Morgan chuckle. "It was for victimology!" He defended far too loudly, drawing the attention of some passersby.

"Garcia's collating information, so we'll have a file on her life when we get back," Morgan informed him, ignoring his reasoning. "So we're just sitting around here until she's done." His glance wasn't on Spencer. Instead, he was waving to three girls who were clearly talking about him as they walked past.

Figuring he'd make the most of her previous offer, Spencer went to the food tent. Thinking about the fact she had a stalker, he made sure he picked a bag of sealed chips. He and Morgan watched while they shot her scenes, one of which was Y/n kissing the guy she'd hugged when they first got there. Spencer could see how her hand slightly clenched like Y/n wasn't thrilled about the plot. Which was most likely why she insisted on retaking it twice with accompanying profuse apologies.

Once Y/n's scene was over, she made her way to Spencer and Morgan, talking to a few people along the way before pulling a seat over to sit next to them.

Casting a brief look around, she reached across to take some from the packet. "Thanks." She said, gently smiling at him. Spencer mirrored her smile, tipping the packet closer so she could have more if she wanted, while he purposefully ignored Morgan suspiciously eyeing the interaction.

Spencer was thankful he didn't have to give her an awkward reply when a young blonde came up to them. Someone Y/n closely knew, judging by how she jumped up to hug the girl.

"Ally!" She greeted her, turning back to Morgan and Spencer. "This is Spencer and Derek from the FBI. This is my PA." She informed them.

"Oh, about the stalker." Ally realized, eyeing Morgan up and down with a smirk. So she was close enough to Y/n to know what she was trying to keep secret. "Someone dropped these off at your trailer, maybe your on-screen, maybe off-screen romantic interest." She suggested with a smirk.

Faking enthusiasm, she took the teddy bear and box of fudge. Her excitement turned genuine when she read the label. "All the way from England! My favorite!" She cheered.

Morgan and Spencer shared a frantic look, springing up before she could do anything else. "Don't," Spencer said, shaking his head while Morgan took the box and bear out of her hands.

"Really?" Y/n exclaimed, looking irritated once again. Ally put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down. Morgan was already on the phone with Hotch, getting the rest of the team there.

Only 15 minutes later, Y/n was in her trailer, with Morgan, Spencer, the police detective, Hotch, and Blake, desperately trying to calm herself down. Spencer noticed the odd looks they gave him at seeing his hair.

"We can's get a hold of Stephen at the moment, but Rossi's going to go see him once he's finished helping Garcia," Hotch filled them in. "And JJ's... busy." Understatement of the century.

Y/n brushed it off, knowing his schedule. "He's in a meeting, negotiating a New York Fashion Week contract for me." She told the group. "Can we read it now?" She questioned, looking at the letter still in Spencer's hand. It was in the fudge box, which was on the way to the lab for analysis.

Delicately opening the letter, Spencer read it. Then decided the extensive content was too violent to speak allowed. The silence tensioned the mood of the room as everyone's suspense grew.

"Blake." Spencer handed the letter, waiting for her reaction.

There were pictures, too. Of Y/n in the police precinct with the BAU. Even more troubling, photographs of Morgan and Spencer at set, labeling them as a threat.

She confirmed she was thinking the same thing with a direct nod, handing the letter over to Hotch. "The stalker's a woman." Even just from the number of adjectives.

Y/n clamped a hand over her mouth, the tears threatening to spill. It was all too real when she realized the stalker had been on set and potentially in her trailer. The thought made her sick to her stomach.

"Can I just read it? Please?" Y/n questioned, her emotions swaying between mad and sad.

"You don't want to do that." Spencer tenderly said, sitting down next to her on the couch. If he could have hugged her, he would. Hell, he would have done anything to make her smile.

With a frantic look, she turned to the agent she was closest to. "I can't put my life on hold until you catch whoever's doing this!" She vented, bouncing her knee up and down.

"Ms. L/n, I can assure you, we have our profile, and we will find this woman," Hotch assured her, restating the facts before dividing the team. "Reid, take her home. The rest of us will give the profile and run it against your acquaintances."

She opened her mouth to argue about the one scene she had left to shoot but stopped herself. After all, they were trying to protect her. It didn't mean she had to like it. "Okay, and thank you." She mumbled out.

The rest of them left the trailer, Hotch waiting back to slip Spencer a file on her. "Are you sure you don't want Morgan to do this?" Spencer asked, trying to keep his voice low while Y/n grabbed her things. "He'll actually be able to defend her."

"She needs someone she feels comfortable with who we know isn't involved, and from what I can see, that's you," Hotch told him, glancing at Y/n, who looked like fragile glass about to shatter.

Spencer frowned at the underlying message of the Unit Chief. "You think it's someone close to her?" He asked, worried about the effect it would have on her if one of the few people she seemed to be herself with was the stalker.

"We can't rule it out." Hotch reminded him.

"71% of stalking victims are stalked by someone they know and 27% by a stranger." Spencer justified his point before backpedaling. "But she's in the public eye, so I'm not sure the statistics can be interpreted the same way."

Hotch looked over Spencer's shoulder to see Y/n was almost ready. "They'll be officers outside. It's the safest place for her to be." He assured Spencer, leaving with the rest of the team when Y/n finished packing her things.

"So, you didn't want to be the one babysitting me?" She joked when they reached her car. A dark grey, two-door, convertible Ferrari with a red interior.

"I-it's not, uh, l-like that." He awkwardly defended himself, eliciting a giggle from Y/n, who clearly wasn't offended. "I can drive if you want." He suggested, hoping she'd turn him down.

Y/n softly stroked the door of the car. "Not my special Quicksilver." She joked, unlocking the car and getting in.

"You named your car?" Spencer asked, frowning slightly as he fumbled around to take his bag off and get in.

"Of course," Y/n replied like it was blatantly obvious. "Plus, it would be nice for me to do something myself." She said playfully, grinning at the other bag Spencer was holding. Hers. He was slightly apprehensive, not about her driving but because he knew how fast a car like that could potentially go.

She was a good driver, even in Los Angeles traffic. The 25-minute drive gave him enough time to read over her file Hotch had slipped him. But it was slightly uncomfortable with her being there.

"That's my entire life, isn't it?" Y/n asked, glancing over at him while she drove.

"Sorry. I just, uh, I have to." He cringed at the part of his job he hated, dealing with living victims.

Taking a left, she drove up a driveway Spencer wouldn't have known was there. "I just feel it should be thicker to summerize 27 years."

"The font size is small," Spencer explained, making her laugh even though it wasn't his intention. "I read really fast too."

"How fast?" She asked, unsure if he was serious.

Spencer wasn't sure he was ready to admit it, but she already knew how many PhDs he had. "20 000 words per minute."

She frowned to figure out if he was serious. "I don't know if I could read that many words in an hour."

"If you could, you'd be reading at 1.6x the lower end of the average 200 words per minute rate of an adult." Spencer rambled, about to say something else, when he stopped once the trees cleared. The house was impressive, but behind it, he could see the whole city in the distance. "Wow."

"Cool, right?" Y/n asked, parking the car near the garage. She wasn't deterred by the police cars there.

Stunned, Spencer nodded. The house was incredible as well. Luxurious, but not in an old-money rich type of way. It was minimalistic and modern. There were floor-to-ceiling windows along the entire bottom floor, and he could see the grand staircase in the entryway from outside.

He scrambled to get out of the car after her. "Your house is amazing." He complimented, following her to the front door.

"Thank you," Y/n replied, holding a key card up to the door panel like it was a hotel room. She opened the door and entered.

Inside, he could see all the way across the ground floor to the impressive view. The furniture didn't show much of a personality, all lavish and, Spencer was sure, expensive. He'd been in Rossi's mansion, but this was something else. The whole house was open-planned, with lots of squeaky clean glass. Technological too, by the complicated-looking control panels and automatic lights.

"You can put our stuff anywhere." She told him, watching the way he awkwardly stood there. Her statement contrasted the cleanliness of the mansion, where there was nothing was out of place.

Out of place himself, Spencer put his satchel and her bag on a chair at the kitchen island. It was like the rest of the house, with marble countertops and shiny floors.

Her attention was turned across the room when she heard paws against the floor. Spencer followed her gaze. "Buddy, hi!" She greeted the massive Saint Bernard, bending down to pat him. The dog nuzzled into her palm as she scratched around his head. She spun back to look at Spencer. "I promise I'm not a crazy dog-mom." She assured him.

"Dog mom?" Spencer questioned what he assumed to be a pop culture reference.

Upon speaking, the dog's attention was drawn to Spencer. He let out a low bark, suspicious of the new guest. "Hey, none of that," Y/n commanded. "This is a friend." Even though she was telling a dog that, Spencer smiled. "His name is Judge." She told Spencer. Suspiciously, Judge walked over to sniff the new guest, causing Spencer to step back. "Not a dog person?" She asked with a smile.

"Uh, I guess, but he's kind of big." Spencer froze as the dog sniffed him.

Y/n stoked his red-brown coat near his back while she spoke. "172 pounds." She informed him, grinning at her pet. Spencer reached down to pat his ears. "Someone abandoned him when he was just a little puppy. I've had him for 5 years now, and he has not stopped growing. He's kind of lazy, but Ally takes him out walking most mornings." She continued while they both petted the dog. Then her attention was elsewhere. "Do you want something to eat?" She offered. "I keep the good snacks by the pool."

Spencer followed her outside, looking around at the furniture before going past the big glass doors. The view of the city was even better out there. With trees lining the property, it almost felt like they were the only people in Bel Air.

There was an outdoor kitchen on the left side, with two bathrooms and a pool shed. Like a puppy, Spencer followed Y/n and Judge along side the pool's edge towards the kitchen.

She opened the mini-fridge to reveal drinks, jello, and ice cream in the freezer and a drawer to reveal chips, pretzels, cookies, and candy. "Gummy bears?" She suggested, giving him a packet.

"Can I have jello?" Spencer requested, causing her to grin at the fact he was relaxing a little. Before she could hand it to him, his phone started ringing. He checked the screen to see it was Hotch. "Sorry, I've got to take this." He apologized, stepping away so she couldn't hear the conversation. "Yeah, Hotch." He answered.

"Reid, her manager, Stephen, he's dead." Hotch filled him in. "Don't tell her yet."

Spencer frowned, spinning back to the happy-ish actress. "You want me to lie?" He returned.

"No, just don't tell her." Technically, a lie by omission. "The unsub is picking targets closer to her. Morgan, JJ, and Blake are on their way over to you. Make sure she's safe and don't do anything reckless." Spencer realized that was probably why he was sent there instead of Morgan.

"Hotch, this place has seven bedrooms and twelve bathrooms, and it's over 13000 square feet. She could easily already be here." Spencer whispered quietly, looking up at the second floor and realizing how easy it would be to be there without her knowing.

Although Spencer couldn't hear it, Hotch was concerned about the same thing. "Be prepared to talk her down then."

"Alright, bye." Spencer farewelled once Y/n walked over, plastering a smile back on his face.

"Sit," Y/n instructed, handing him the jello before sitting on the edge of the pool with her feet in the warm water. Spencer sat next to her, crossing his legs. "Did something happen?" She asked.

He gulped, well versed in hiding his lies. "No, I'm sorry." She drew her lips together, taking a handful of gummy bears. "Before, when Morgan asked if you liked Los Angeles, you didn't really answer."

"Are you looking for an answer now?" Y/n asked, waiting for a nod from him. "I like that." Her head turned to look at the sky glowing pink as the sunset.

"You're good at deflecting, too," Spencer observed, carefully eyeing her.

Instead of being mad, she smiled. "Thanks." She replied although she knew that wasn't the reply she wanted. "Do you ever feel like you're meant to adore your job? Just because everyone wants it." Her voice was quieter when she was being truthful.

Spencer knew how to reply to that. "Every second Wednesday of the month, they bring people in the academy or college students into the FBI to show them around. And they walk around our floor with dreams of being part of the team or the Bureau." He described, thinking back to last week. He realized he needed to open up if he wanted her to do the same thing. "I just lie when they ask me if this is the job I want to do."

"I've wanted to do this since I was 6," Y/n admitted.

"When you got played Dorothy in your elementary school's production of The Wizard of Oz?" Spencer cut her off to ask.

She turned to him with raised eyebrows. "You really know everything about me, don't you?"

"It was on the front page of your hometown's newspaper," Spencer informed her, thinking back to the contents of the manilla folder.

"My mom was so proud," Y/n said, smiling at the memory. The moment she decided, on stage with the spotlight on her. "I was so thrilled, just to be in the paper. Not the second time, though." She shook her head.

Spencer knew what she was talking about, 15-year-old Y/n on stage with jealous high school seniors while she had the lead. "You moved just after that." He recalled.

"Jet-set right into stardom." She dryly added. "I love this job, and I know I'm so fortunate." She prefaced while Spencer ate his jello, handing off her every word. It was nice, for once, to have someone to talk honestly to. "I was only 16 when I moved here, which is every 16-year-olds dream. And my mom was with me for a while, but this wasn't her home."

That wasn't exactly in her file. "You were here alone?"

"Sort of. I mean, you're never alone in LA." She answered, trying not to make it seem sad. "I loved it, and I still do, but I was kind of... groomed for this."

This was very clearly her. Not filtered for the public eye. "I know." He informed her, having noted the behavior. She frowned, not knowing how that was possible. "You flirted with Morgan when you spoke personally." He explained, Y/n cringing as he said it. "I know what it's like. I was 12 when I finished high school, and I left Las Vegas to come here and go to Cal Tech. I was 22 when I joined the BAU, and that's all I've done."

"What did you want to be as a kid?" She asked, trying to keep the conversation light.

"A magician," Spencer replied, beaming.

It was adorable. Without a doubt, Spencer had the prettiest smile Y/n had ever seen, and she couldn't help verbalizing it. "There's a lucky girl somewhere in DC." When his eyes snapped onto hers, she realized she might have said the wrong thing. "Or guy."

Spencer chuckled, shaking her head when he realized what she was saying. "No, there's not."

"There should be. You're a good listener." She absentmindedly commented, causing him to blush bright red nonetheless.

"It's more about listening to what's not being said," Spencer spoke. "The nonverbal communication. Like how there's something else you don't like about Hollywood."

How he could know, she wasn't sure. When she nodded to the food in front of them, it clicked in Spencer's brain; how she looked around at set before eating his food and the hidden fridge. "You've always got to look perfect." She mumbled. "I eat what I want, but Stephen is always pushing clean eating, even when I was 16, so it's easier if he doesn't know." Spencer hid his detectable reaction, and while it was sad he was dead, it didn't make him a good person.

"Why does he call you Cariño?" Spencer asked one of the things he still couldn't figure out while consciously using the incorrect verb.

She smiled slightly, showing their good bond. "It means-"

"Darling. It's Spanish." Spencer cut her off before she could continue. He worried she would take it the wrong way, but she laughed softly at him.

Y/n went on to explain it. "His real name's Esteban, but it's much harder to make it in LA with a name like that." Another thing that made her bitter towards the city. "So, what do you actually know about me? Or were we just hanging out today?"

Profiling people while they were there wasn't something Spencer liked, but he was confident in what he knew about her. Just because of their similarities. "I think that most people would assume you're extrinsically motivated, but they would be wrong. You've always been driven, which I know from how dedicated you were this morning about going to the set. I'd say you were a perfectionist" Y/n chuckled at her own stubbornness, but she could tell he knew what he was talking about. "People see it as self-importance because you're a celebrity, but you're extremely careful about your public image because you've never really felt like you belong." It made her slightly uncomfortable, feeling stripped from her carefully constructed qualities. "Private, too. No one knows just how much you donate to charity, and even your dog is a rescue. Your team manages most of your social media, and you try not to look at articles about yourself." Those were less of her dark secrets and more of her morals, something she wasn't ashamed he knew. "You don't trust too many people, although you appear warm towards everyone, again, because you're desperate for them to like you." There was the same uncomfortable feeling in her stomach, and she bit her lip as she tried not to cry. Spencer didn't notice enough to stop himself from continuing. "But I think you're lonely. When you're finished with award ceremonies, parties, or on set, you come back here, and you just feel empty." Spencer understood. He knew from the nights out with the team and trailing home to an empty apartment while everyone else had families. Y/n's heart was pounding, and her eyes were stinging as she bit back tears. "Of course, you don't need anyone because you've learned to be alone, but you overcompensate with a big house and a need to please. The praise is addicting to you. Once you started getting it, you needed more each time to feel good about yourself like a drug addiction."

When the tears streamed down her cheeks, Spencer wished he'd stopped the psychoanalysis before it got too personal. He felt guilt-ridden about it, unsure of what he would do if someone profiled him so thoroughly.

There was so much honestly Y/n didn't know what to do, trying not to sob out loud. He didn't say anything she hadn't thought before but hearing it aloud hurt.

By the time he realized what he'd done, she was already wiping up the tears. "S-sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"No." Y/n placed a hand on his arm, smiling gently. "It's okay." He didn't look like he believed her. "Seriously, Spencer. I asked what you knew, and I'm impressed. You're good at your job."

Spencer was still worried about what he'd done, even more so when Y/n got up. "Where are you going?"

"Just to get changed." She replied, with a genuine smile, assuring him nothing was wrong. He waited when she left, looking at the darkening sky as the stars appeared while he thought. What he had said was just what he wished he could say to himself in a mirror.

He didn't even notice she'd walked out of the house until there was a splash in the pool. "Y/n, what are you doing?" He asked when she popped her head up.

She floated on the surface, cheekily grinning at him. "Swimming, duh." The heating made the pool perfectly warm, and it made her feel like there everything was normal.

"We need to go inside," Spencer told her. "It's getting dark, and the unsub could be out here." Halfway through his talking, she put her head under the water. "Y/n? Seriously, come on." He begged, looking around at the dark hillside. "Get out, please."

"Why? This is fun." She replied, running a hand over her wet hair. "Come in."

Spencer quickly shook his head. "No." He firmly replied. "I'm meant to be protecting you."

"So, you've got to be close to me, and I'm in here." Y/n reasoned with flawed logic.

"Please, just get out." Spencer requested. He liked seeing her smile, but he didn't want to put her in danger.

There was a smirk on her face before she conceded. "Okay, give me a hand." Spencer reached down to grab her wet hand and pull her out of the pool. She took it, letting him pull her up a little before tugging hard and pulling him in.

When he came to the surface, he was spluttering, attempting to push his hair out of his eyes. "Y/n! I could have drowned." Spencer complained, his voice rising as he swam to the side of the pool.

"I would have saved you," Y/n assured him, floating around with a proud smile.

"Well, I'm wet now, and so is my gun." He grumbled, taking it out and putting it on the edge as he neared the steps.

"No, don't go." She begged, reaching out for his arm. He looked cute soaking wet with his hair pushed back and his shirt tight around his body. "Live a little."

Spencer stopped, turning to look at her wide grin. His frown quickly broke into a grin as he shook his head at her actions. "I'm drenched now, so thanks."

"You're welcome." She softly replied, swimming closer to him. His lips were too captivating for her to think before she acted. Holding his forearm, she pushed her lips onto his, kissing him roughly.

It was far too perfect a kiss for Y/n to care. He started to kiss her back when he tore himself away from her. "This is unprofessional." He insisted, trying to get some space between him and the half-naked actress.

"No one's watching." She guaranteed, pulling him back. One more light kiss convinced him.

Against his better judgment, Spencer cupped her cheek, long fingers reaching around to the back of her neck. His fingers were cold on Y/n's skin, holding her face firmly and spreading out. It was so genuine. The most real kiss she'd maybe ever had. She let him lead it, moving her face to follow his as the kiss deepened. Each time one of them moved away, the other dove back in, addicted to the feeling.

JJ clearing her throat promptly stopped them, and they both pulled away as quickly and as guiltily as possible. Caught red-handed. They scrambled to get out of the pool, Y/n grabbing the towel she'd brought and wrapping it around her wet figure.

Morgan walked past with some guy in handcuffs, dragging him while he was read his rights. He flashed Spencer a smirk, but he knew there was more teasing to come.

"Not our unsub, but he was going to try to sell these," Blake explained, carrying a camera and showing them the photos of their make-out session. If they could blush and cringe more, they would have. JJ was trying and failing at stifling a giggle.

"Are you going to..?" Y/n asked quickly before realizing what she was implying. It wasn't something she wanted Spencer to think when she had enjoyed kissing him. All she wanted was to have one private kiss. "No, I didn't mean it like that." She blurted out.

Blake shook her head. "We won't." It made Y/n breathe out an instant sigh of relief. There was more teasing to do, but the team still had a case to solve. "We think your manager was trying to get him to not sell nude pictures of you before he was killed."

Her heart stopped at hearing that. "Stephen is..?" She couldn't even form the four-letter word that had changed her life. A glance at Spencer proved he was hiding something. "You knew!" She exclaimed, anger taking over her. "We just... and you knew."

"I'm sorry." Spencer quickly rushed out, feeling terrible for what he'd just done. Knowing he'd made her cry twice was a horrible feeling.

With the tears rushing down her cheek, she shook her head. "I'm going to change." She decided, walking away from the agents before she could further embarrass herself.

Spencer looked like he wanted to go after her, big doe eyes growing tearful. "I just fell in." He tried to defend his actions to JJ after Blake went after Morgan.

"It's all here," JJ smirked, clicking through the photos so he could relive it.

"I s-shouldn't have," Spencer said, his brain catching up to what he'd just done.

JJ pulled her lips inward, raising her eyebrows like she was challenging his idea. "How well does she know Allison Cartwright?" She asked, keeping the focus on the investigation.

Spencer's mouth parted in shock, replaying meeting Y/n's friend. "Allison as in Ally who walks Judge and could get into Y/n's house whenever she liked?" He asked, urgency in his voice as he rushed to pick up his gun from the ground.

JJ unholstered her gun, calling Blake quickly with the urgent news. "We think she's in the house." She informed her, waiting for a reply before hanging up. "They're going to lock down the perimeter." She told Spencer. "You go to her room." Their usual don't-split-up rule didn't apply when the house was so big, and Y/n was in immediate danger.

Spencer ran towards the door Y/n went in, dripping wet with his gun at his side. He heard a loud cry coming from one of the rooms, and he quietly pushed the door open.

It must have been her bedroom. With the same view from the big windows as the living room had. It was minimally decorated as well. Stepping into the bedroom, Spencer held his gun up as he scanned the room for danger.

"Spencer!" Y/n cried, coming into view. Ally was holding a gun to her temple and using her as a body shield. She looked as terrified as she sounded, tears on her cheeks as her wide eyes searched Spencer's for a way out.

"Put the gun down, Ally," Spencer commanded, fixing his gaze on her. "You don't want to hurt Y/n. Not when you love her, and you've done so much to help her career."

Ally's fingers hovered over the trigger, definitely showing some sign of hesitance. "I have!" She agreed with his statement. "I love her more than anyone else does. More than you do." Haphazardly, she waved the gun at Spencer, seeing him as a threat.

"Ally, please don't," Y/n begged, unknowingly worsening the situation. With his eyes, Spencer was assuring her it would be okay. She trusted him, but her best friend could still kill her.

"No!" Ally frantically exclaimed. "You kissed him!" Quickly, she was devolving.

With his eyes, Spencer was instructing Y/n to play into the fantasy. It took her a deep breath before she did. "Ally, it didn't mean anything. They're destroying the camera because I don't want to be reminded of it."

Spencer was trying to dissociate from what she was saying. He knew it was too good to be true. She was nothing less than perfect, and he was a lanky, rambling FBI agent. Behind Y/n, Spencer could see Blake, gun raised as she stepped quietly until the barrel hit the back of Allison's head.

"Let her go and drop the gun." She commanded, and, thankfully, Ally did.

Y/n squealed when she was released, running out of her grip while Spencer moved forward to make the arrest. JJ was there too, comforting her with a hug while she cried about the longest day of her life.

Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion around her as police officers came and went, and people made sure she was alright. JJ sat with her until the team had to leave, offering her comforting words of advice as everything sunk in. In one day, she'd lost her best friend and her manager.

The one person she didn't see was Spencer. When she found out he was leaving, she ran out after him.

"Spencer!" He was standing near the SUV with Morgan and Rossi, both of which were teasing him. Y/n figured someone must have brought him a change of clothes because he was in a new dress shirt and pants.

When he heard her voice, he spun around to face her, Morgan and Rossi giving them some privacy. "Are you okay?" He asked, scanning her face analytically.

"I will be," Y/n answered, smiling slightly. "Because of you." Spencer opened his mouth to tell her it was a team effort, but she stopped him. "Thank you."

Spencer nodded, not sure if he should hug her, shake her hand, or kiss her, which he was desperate to do. "You're welcome." He settled for. "I'm sorry for-"

She cut him off. "Don't be." She handed him the card she was holding, unsure about giving it to him. "If you want to call."

Smiling, Spencer took it, brushing his fingers against hers. He memorized it in case he lost it. "I will. Stay safe, Y/n."

"I will." She farewelled, waving at him before she felt Judge against her feet. "Say goodbye." She ordered the dog. He sat down, holding up his left paw and moving it side to side.

It made Spencer laugh, patting his head. "Keep her safe, Judge." He instructed, looking up at Y/n, who was still smiling.

When he got in the car, it was far too quiet. "What did she give you?" Morgan asked suspiciously.

"Her number," Spencer mumbled, reading over the numbers for the 20th time. He wanted to call, of course, but, then again, she was a beautiful, world-famous actress. How would he ever maintain a relationship with her? Plus, he knew what transference was and how the pool kiss was only because she was confused.

"Spencer Reid, my office, now," Garcia commanded, walking into the bullpen before turning around and expecting him to follow. Spencer did, assuming he wasn't in trouble. Morgan's birthday was soon, so it was probably to plan a party. "When were you in LA?" She asked, secretively shutting the door.

"Um, last week," Spencer replied, unsure where she was going with the line of questioning.

"Which date, genius?" She asked, bringing up a webpage and going to Twitter.

Spencer frowned as he tried to figure out her aim. "Wednesday, February the 18th. You know you're not allowed on Twitter at... work." His voice dropped off at the end of the sentence when he saw the video.

Y/n L/n, the one and only. Being asked some questions on a talk show, but his focus was on how beautiful she looked. Even after everything she went through just a week ago, impressively resilient.

The sound of her voice filled the Batcave when Penelope played the interview.

"So, you've had a lot of on-screen kisses, but everyone's dying to know what the best kiss of your life was." The interviewer prompted, accompanied by a cheer from the audience.

Video Y/n blushed, giving him a confident answer. "Before last week, I'm not sure I would have been able to tell you." She started, charismatic and holding Spencer's attention. "But now I can certainly say it was last Wednesday night."

That was why he was there. A grin took over his face, wanting to pinch himself to make sure it was real. Next to him, Penelope was still in shock, eyes flicking between Spencer and the screen to confirm what she already knew.

"And who was this mystery lover?" The interviewer asked, realizing he would get good publicity over the interview.

She held a soft smile with traces of disappointment. "He never called, so I can't tell you. If I thought he might see this, I'd tell him to hurry up, but I doubt he will be watching."

Penelope decided the video didn't need to go on any longer. She turned it off and spun in her chair to point at him. "You! You kissed the Y/n L/n, and I never knew! And she's talking about it! Everyone is talking about it! And you never called!" She exclaimed, not breathing in between each fact. "Why didn't you call?"

"Transference," Spencer answered. He'd looked at the number hundreds of times, sitting on his bedside table, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Which would have gone away!" She reminded him. "She very clearly liked you. Call her." She demanded, waiting for Spencer to take his phone out and call right then.

"Morgan has photos of the kiss, did he not show you?" Spencer asked, smirking smugly.

Penelope was up and out of her seat quicker than ever. "Derek Morgan!!" She yelled once she left the room. Spencer knew whatever treatment Morgan was about to get wouldn't make up for the week worth of teasing.

With the paused video on the screen and a smile on his face, Spencer was confident about what he was about to do. He dialed in the number he'd be able to recite in his sleep. "Hi, Y/n, it's Spencer." He said once she answered.

"I know." She giggled. "You're the only person who knows the phone number."

That made him smile, determined not to let his brain psych him out. Even though Y/n had a complicated life, and Spencer seemed to make things difficult, their relationship didn't have to be hard.

"Can I take you out on a date?"

Part 2 here

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