Reid

It was Spencer Reid's day off. He stood in his living room, looking at the practically empty room. If he were profiling himself from this room he would say that he barely lived there, and he would be right. What should he do with his free time? His only friends had either long ago lost touch with him or worked with him. He knew he couldn't call his friends from work. He saw them every day; he couldn't expect them to spend time with him after hours. The only thing in the room that showed he lived there was the bookcase, which took up three of the walls. He scanned the titles, knowing he'd already read every one of them, and that if he picked one to read it would only entertain him for an hour at most, since he could read about a hundred times as fast as anyone else he knew.

He turned and went back into his bedroom. His desk took up one corner, and again it was the only thing in the room that showed someone lived in it. It was piled with folders, papers, and newspaper articles. They were all work-related of course. He glanced longingly at the unfinished paperwork, dying to engage his mind by working on it. However, he'd promised JJ that he wouldn't do anything work-related on his day off. Quickly, he counted the minutes until he could work again, and then wished he hadn't. 1227 minutes were left until he had to leave for work the next morning.

He knew his coworkers liked to escape from the horrific things they saw every day at the Behavioral Analysis Unit (BAU) of the FBI, which worked to stop serial killers, rapists, and kidnappers. He had seen so many things he wished he hadn't and knew so many names of people he couldn't save. His coworkers escaped from work to forget about them. He just worked harder. They each had different ways to cope. Hotchner and JJ had their families. Prentiss had her many hobbies. Garcia had her computers, and Morgan had his women. He, however, had none of those things. His only family was his mother, who was currently living in an assisted-living facility in Las Vegas, far away from him in Quantico, Virginia. He couldn't work with computers at all. He had no desire to learn because he felt disloyal to his books every time he was forced to use one. He had no hobbies, other than reading. Activities such as collecting things, book groups, and online gaming bored him. Other activities like sports terrified him. And as for women, he hadn't had a date in what seemed like years. He didn't go out of his way to meet women and therefore only saw women at work, who were either undesirable or off-limits. He told himself that he was too busy and his work too morbid to have a woman in his life, and this argument seemed valid to him most of the time, when he was at work. It was days like this that made him question his bachelorhood.

He went into the kitchen and opened the fridge, but it was mostly empty. His diet mostly consisted of take-out delivered to the office or nothing at all when he was focused on a case. He closed the door in resignation, and tried to imagine what it would be like to have a girlfriend living with him. The rooms would have personality, the fridge would have food in it, the kitchen might actually be used, and of course if a woman were living with him she'd be sleeping with him… His cheeks burned at the thought, even though it was his own. However he couldn't help but think about how nice it would be…except he would never be home. He realized with some disappointment that even if it came to pass, that situation would never last. Women, curiously, desired the presence of their significant other. His line of work wouldn't allow it. Look at Rossi and Hotchner for example. Rossi had been married three times and divorced three times and now had given up all together. Hotchner's wife had left him because she felt neglected. The most logical solution was Morgan's strategy. He never committed to women; he just spent the night with one woman and then moved on to another. Somehow, though, he couldn't see himself doing this. He sighed and looked at his watch. Two minutes used up depressing himself. At least that was two minutes he wasn't completely bored.

Suddenly, his cell phone buzzed in his pocket. Heart racing, he pulled it out quickly and punched the button as he pressed it eagerly to his ear.

"Reid," he barked, hoping he sounded calm and appropriately annoyed at being bothered on his day off. He could never get his tone quite right.

"Hey Spence," said JJ, sounding both tense and a little excited. "We have a case. I need you to come in right away. Bring your go-bag. And…I'm sorry to bother you on your day off." Reid snapped his phone closed, the good-bye implied. True BAU agents didn't waste time on pleasantries. Reid smiled as he grabbed his keys and go-bag, which were waiting by the door. Time to go home, he thought.