The highest amount an FBI agent can be paid is $118,957 per annum, which is just over $9913 PCM. The basic rent for a one bed apartment in the DC area is $1550 PCM. Bills are an average of $90 PCM. Food $200. Which would leave $8073, completely ignoring all those other expensive one runs up during the course of the month. The problem with a pre-existing condition like schizophrenia is that health insurance won't cover it. A paranoid schizophrenic in long term residency care costs $37, 329 per annum. Which levels out to just over $3,783 PCM, not including, medication, laundry, phone, or food costs. That could mean ranging from between $4,800 to $5,679 PCM depending on how the patient is doing. It is not a steady bill but varies wildly from month to month. Which would leave our highest paid FBI agent $2394 PCM as disposable income.
Spencer Reid was not Grade 15 Step 10. As an SSA Spencer was Grade 3, being a BAU agent, good at his job and reasonably close to promotion made him Step 8. And so paid $21,894 per annum. Which leaves him with $-5690 disposable income PCM. Before tax.
Spencer Reid didn't gamble, that was too cliché Spencer likes to do his own thing, he enjoyed the maths of it and fun but not the risk. No matter how much he cheated he still wasn't in control, the house always wins. No Spencer Reid supplemented his income in other, more reliable ways.
When he was 10 years old and his father left and high school was turning out to be horrible he hid in his local library and read. It took him three months to read out the small library but only one thing really stuck with him. The 1930s.
It gave him an income idea, a rather successful one. His mom never noticed what he was doing in the basement, and his customers weren't concerned about the prepubescent boy serving them. When he got to college his underage clientèle were willing to pay more. And when he moved to Virginia, he had honed his technique and was making a safe profit of $9000 PCM, and that was when he was being lazy.
When Gideon ran off, Spencer snapped up the opportunity, back then as a just a SA he earned only $20,169 per annum, so his deficit was a lot more to make up. The cabin was perfect for his little side business.
Spencer's Own Moonshine, was the most popular of his products, it was left to mature in barrels for a few months, something that most moonshiners didn't bother with. The younger and newer clients preferred Moonsugar, Spencer always geeked out at the name and saddened that he didn't have the time for computer games any more, it contained a lot more sugar than was strictly necessary.
Spencer was clever with his business, he knew how to evade the law, and the tiredness from being up all night he passed off as nightmares. Moonshine is illegal but he needed the money and enjoyed the science of it all. His customers also made for good profiling practice.
He was having a pleasant time humming to himself adding some nutmeg to finish off the apple brandy, which he could make $120 per gallon, untaxed, when he heard a vehicle. Reid never sold on the premisses. He didn't want to risk his operation, whether from the law finding it or recipe thieves.
He ran over to a window and pulled out his sniper rifle, you can never be too careful, he had to protect his livelihood, his mom. But he relaxed when he saw it was only Hotch and not rivals.
Shit it was Hotch. Hotch who would arrest him, who would destroy all his work. He didn't blame Hotch, but he was a lawman, a suit through and through, he would never understand. Claim there was another way, breaking the law wasn't the answer. Well Spencer wasn't hurting anyone and he would do anything for his baby.
With a last loving look at his distilling equipment he stumbled outside, crocodile tears already rolling down his cheeks.
Spencer was stilled amazed by how his team and those they interacted with seemed to accept this persona. Surely seeing as he was a trained FBI agent that would suggest some level of competence. But it didn't matter, he often used the underestimations of him to his advantage, and now would be one such time.
Spencer stumbled in Hotch's shocked arms, "Reid, what are you doing here?"
"Gideon left me all alone, it hurts so much, why does no one love me?" Oops that might have been laying it on a little thick, but Hotch seemed to buy it. He could tell the other man was uncomfortable, good.
Hotch stepped back, unsure of what to do or say. Spencer again fell into his arms, holding him tight and sobbing into his chest. Hotch had no choice but to stand there with Reid in his arms patting his back gently and making soothing noises.
It took a while but Reid seemed to calm down. When they stepped apart Reid look bashful and yet determined. He surged forward to Hotch and jumped up. He wrapped his legs around Hotch's waist and kissed his lips.
From experience he knew Hotch wouldn't be able to hold his position for long, so he shimmed down on to his knees and pulled Hotch's fly down. "Please Hotch, please" he begged, again not subtle but Spencer really didn't have the time.
Hotch being a decent guy, removed Spencer's hands and knelt to be at eye level. "Reid, you're not thinking right, you don't really want this, and I won't take advantage of you like that. I had come here to see what was going on with Gideon's cabin, it's been years since he left and." he paused, "Spencer you're a good friend and I know how much Gideon hurt you but doing this won't help." With that he jumped into his car and drove away.
The next day at work Hotch was a little distant and clearly unsure of himself, but it was worth it Spencer had made $1019 last night. And there was no way Hotch would be going back to the cabin.