When you were eight years old, you kept a list of your so-called enemies in your journal. The girl who pushed you every day on the playground, the boy who told you your parents didn't really love you if they sent the nanny to collect you from school everyday, the girl who called you names and copied your homework. An overall innocent list, one that would make you smile if you discovered it now. Your current list, were you to write one now that you're twenty five and far tougher than your childhood self, would look markedly different.
These days, that perhaps coveted number one spot goes to your corrupt and now former boss, Special Supervisory Agent in Chief Gavin Williams. You don't think you'll ever be able to forgive the sheer number of cases that were ruined because he tampered with evidence for money or even just for fun. You're still made uncomfortable by the unprofessional and downright sexist attitudes he upheld within the unit. And you'll never forget him assaulting and leaving your closest friend, your partner, for dead, after she confronted him about inconsistencies in several past cases. Of course, he got what was coming to him after that. Arrested, a prison sentence he'll never see the end of, his reputation forever tarnished. And of course, the fuss you kicked up about the atmosphere he maintained in the office led to a few more agents being demoted, reprimanded, and replaced. Your last name, the one you share with the director of the FBI, might have helped with that. But else what is nepotism for, if not cleaning up an office full of men who are willing to look the other way and treat their female counterparts like shit?
After the intense experience with Gavin Williams, perhaps to continue with a list of enemies seems pointless and maybe superficial; the rest of one's enemies cannot live up to the horror of a corrupt and murdering sociopath. Nethertheless, if the list were to continue, there's at least one more person on it. And that person is stuck-up boy genius, Spencer Reid.
"... Are you even listening to what I'm saying? You know it's actually really important about the case and you're, you're doing what exactly?" his stupid little voice brings you out of your daydreams. You hadn't been listening, mostly because you already knew everything he'd been lecturing on. What were Gideon and Hotch thinking, assigning you and Reid to drive over an hour away to interview a suspect together. The two of you openly did not get along with each other, and baby genius was not the most useful partner on a case - unless you wanted him to talk a suspect to death.
"Reid, I'm driving, of course I'm not listening to your shit. Besides, I also paid attention to the briefing. This guy is slightly lower down on our suspect list but high enough to deserve a visit. Can we have quiet time now, baby genius?" you sigh, and then reach over the the radio and turn the classic rock station up painfully loud. Reid makes a noise at you calling him 'baby genius' - he doesn't like this or any of the other nicknames you give him. This attempt at getting you and Reid to bond or make nice with each other clearly wasn't going to work.
"But don't you think we should talk about the case? I mean you're new to working with our team, and you're the same age as me, so you clearly don't have that much experience in the field either. I just think that I would feel more reassured if you actually paid attention to something outside of your silly little daydreams so that if this guy Hank Roberts is actually the killer then you'll actually be of some use." Reid rambled, almost shouting to be heard over the radio. Properly annoyed by his statement, you promptly clicked it off and pulled the car off to the side of the long winding country road you'd been driving down. Roberts really did live in the middle of nowhere.
"Excuse me? just because I'm not some stuck-up genius, doesn't mean that I'm bad at my job. I was top of my class at the academy and I've solved multiple cases by myself, Mr. I-can-barely-use-a-gun. Get over yourself!" you retort, almost self consciously; people often accuse you of being lesser, as if your only reason for your quick rise to the top is purely because of your father. While being related to the FBI's director probably didn't hurt, you truly are good at your job, and every insinuation that you aren't feels like a knife in the chest.
"I actually have used a gun in the field before, Y/L/N. Why don't you keep driving so we can actually get to the suspects house before sundown, or are you completely incompetent?"
"Go fuck yourself, Spencer Reid."
You start driving again, perhaps with a little case of road rage, driving faster than you should be. Out the corner of your eye, you see Reid looking a little nervous. Good. The last half hour of the drive goes by quietly, the soft sound of whatever station Reid set the radio to the only noise outside of the rumbling of the engine. You're glad for it; talking or even just listening to Reid is exhausting for you.
Once you arrive at the suspect's house, the only house for miles, you and Reid maintain an air of professionalism, one you just can't seem to hold onto when the two of you or the team are alone. He knocks on the door, and a man in dirty clothes opens it, looking aggravated that someone has interrupted whatever it was he had been doing.
"Hello, Mr. Roberts. I'm Agent YL/N and this is Dr. Reid from the FBI, might we come in for a moment? There's been a number of young women go missing in the area and we're canvassing the county for anyone who might have seen anything." you smile politely, hoping he doesn't slam the door in your faces.
"Oh, um, I haven't seen anything, I don't really go out much I guess." He stumbles over the words, in a way that seems to you as if he is hiding something. The man keeps looking over his shoulder into the house, blocking the entrance with his body. "So uh I guess you can write me off your list," he mutters, and promptly closes the door in your faces.
As you start to walk away, you start to feel it in your stomach. That gut feeling that this guy was more than he seems gets larger and larger. As you get back to the car, you stop outside, while Reid gets in.
"Get in the car, Y/L/N, what are you doing?"
"I think he killed those girls, and I think he has our current missing girl in his house right now," you say, frozen to that spot, "and i think he's realised we're on to him and now he's about to kill her too."
You start to think about your options. The team are too far away, over an hour from your location at the closest police station. There's no way they'd be there in time. Reid might be able to talk his way out of a paper bag, but he probably isn't the most helpful if this ends with this guy fighting back - and the profile suggests he would fight back. There's no good here, just shitty options, and you find yourself wishing that Hotch and Gideon had sent you out with literally anyone else.
"It's not safe for us to try and take the UNSUB on ourselves, Y/L/N. I know you're thinking about it. But there's only two of us," Spencer lectured once again, "And-"
"Shut up Reid, are you really willing to let the girl in there die?"
"Y/L/N stop being overly emotional, we don't even have proof that Marcy Evans is in there."
"Okay so I'll get proof then." you respond with an air of finality, moving back towards the house and pulling your gun out of its holster, keeping it low. You sneak towards the back of the house, peering carefully through the windows as you do so.
The first three windows give you nothing, and have you questioning whether that feeling you had in your stomach, the one that convinced you that this was the UNSUB, was just you overreacting, like Reid had implied. But then at the fourth window, you see her. Marcy Evans, huddled in a ball on the floor. You couldn't tell if she was alive, but you could see a door to your right and Roberts with his back to it. Turning around to see where Reid was, you were surprised to see him making his way towards your location.
"If only Morgan were here to break down this door, I don't think either of us have that kind of strength," you murmur to Reid and he nods, slowly assessing the situation.
"Is the door locked? Or do you think you could shoot the lock open and then get us in without Marcy getting caught in the crossfire?" Reid whispered in your ear, and you realise how close he is to you right now. You can smell his cologne, and a small part of your mind is surprised that he even wears any at all.
"She's not moving, I can't tell if we're too late already."
"You're wrong. I can see her breathing." Reid says, and in any other instance you'd have rolled your eyes at his need to be right in any situation.
"Try the door, and if it doesn't open, I'll shoot it open." you say, breathing slowly to steady yourself. This was it, perhaps the most intense moment you'd experienced with the BAU and you were stuck with Spencer Reid of all people.
His hand shook as he tried the door knob, which by some stroke of luck had been left unlocked. The two of you moved quickly into the house, Reid checking to see how severe Marcy's injuries were and you with a gun pointed right at Roberts. He began to raise his gun at you, ready to shoot, but you were quicker. One bullet straight into his shoulder, causing him to drop the gun. You kick it away, pulling out your cellphone to call for backup and an ambulance. Making eye contact with Reid, he subtly shook his head; Marcy probably wouldn't make it considering how long it would take for ambulances and the team to arrive.
"Hotch didn't sound too pleased on the phone. I think he'd have rather us called it in rather than take down Roberts by ourselves." you sigh, knowing that the situation had been risky at best and that the two of you were incredibly lucky that the UNSUB had gone down quickly.
The team eventually arrived with paramedics, who instantly took Marcy away in an ambulance, and began treating Roberts's bullet wound. You and Reid went outside with Hotch, away from the chaos of the crime scene.
"We need to talk about what went down here, Agents. You might have saved Marcy Evan's life, but you not only broke protocol but acted recklessly doing so. One of you should have called us to inform us of the situation earlier, instead of barging into the house. You are aware of how lucky you are that this went down clean? This very easily could have gone wrong. Who's idea even was this ludicrous plan?" Hotch scolded you as if you were children, as if you weren't aware of the risks.
Before you could even defend your actions, Reid piped up, sounding like the suck up he was. "It was Y/L/N's idea, Hotch. She was determined to get in there even before we had confirmed proof Marcy was in there, and basically forced me to follow along with her plan."
As you glared at Reid and his version of events, he wandered off towards Gideon, where he'd be protected as the man's favourite. You turn towards Hotch as he stares you down with that disapproving look of his, and all you could think was how badly you wanted to fight Spencer Reid.