The Chariot (Spencer x Reader)

SIXTEEN

warning: nsfw

"I have a surprise for you," Spencer said between bites of his lunch. He had come to join me at my desk while I finished up paperwork for the case. Hotch had given everyone the rest of the day off, but with as slow as I was at filling out the redundant FBI forms, I was the last person still here actively working on them.

"Ooo what is it?" In contrast with him, I loved surprises. Rather, I loved the big reveal but dreaded the anticipation.

"Well, if I told you, it wouldn't be much of a surprise, would it?" He grinned with the knowledge that I begged to know. "I'll pick you up at 7pm."

"What's the dress code for this surprise?" If he wouldn't tell me what he had planned, he could at least give me a hint about what to wear. With that same devilish grin, he shook his head no. He wouldn't even give that up.

I drove him home, my mind running through every possible thing he could have planned tonight. Once I got home, I made a beeline to my bedroom and flopped on my bed, not even bothering to change or shower off the traveling.

My sleep schedule would take weeks to recover from the nap I took. It was such a deep sleep that I woke up in the same position with indentations of the crumpled comforter on the side of my face.

I was too excited to see Spencer tonight to procrastinate getting ready. I wanted every second I could get so that I'd look my absolute best. Fresh out of the shower, I stood in front of my closet with a towel wrapped around me. Many minutes of thought and deliberation led me to pick out a silky blue crop top and black high waisted pants, along with my black vans. Cute, a little revealing, and nice, but not too nice.

I put on a little bit of brown eyeshadow and a small winged liner. It was just enough so that you could tell I was wearing it, but not as much as I normally put on for a date. Fuck. Was this a date? Two people who very obviously liked each other going out alone at night? We had been out together many times before, but they were always with the team or right after work, so it didn't really count. I smiled at myself in the bathroom mirror as I finished my makeup. This was a date.

A knock at my door snapped me out my daydreams. The nervousness in the pit of my stomach became all too apparent when I walked to answer it. I took a deep breath and twisted the doorknob.

"Hey, y/n. You ready?" Spencer was wearing a slightly relaxed version of his normal work attire – a light purple button down with a gray sweater vest over top.

"Yeah, let me just grab my purse."

He took the keys from my hand and insisted I let him drive my car, "so it's a true surprise," he had said. I didn't put up too much of a fight because I knew I would lose regardless. At least I could control the music, right?

Within 30 minutes, we pulled up outside of this big stone building between the capitol and the monument. "What museum is this?"

"The National Gallery of Art. C'mon, let's go." We got out of the car and he led me down the sidewalk and up the broad front steps to the building.

Why would he bring me here? I know I had artwork covering every free square inch of my walls, but that was mostly just a coping mechanism. My parents and grandparents had collected it over the years and being the only one left in the family still alive, I inherited all of it. It reminded me of them without actually having to see their faces.

"Wait, Spence I think it's closed," I stopped right before the front doors. A sign to the left of the doors clearly said 'FRI 10am-5pm.'

"I know," he pulled open the door and we walked inside anyways.