Criminal Minds Oneshots

1,371 Miles (S.R)

A/N: Old Tumblr Req, unedited.

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Please pick up, please pick up

You thought to yourself while wrapping the phone cord around your finger. The ringer had been going for four rounds, and you knew there were only two left before the call would go to voicemail.

Normally you would never call Spencer during work. He was always the one to call you, and always at night in his hotel room, or in the privacy of the jet bathroom. He didn't want his coworkers to meddle in his relationship just yet, and you never wanted to distract him from his job.

That was the beautiful thing about your relationship. You and Spencer were two separate individuals. He was at work most of the time, and you owned a small bakery franchise that you could easily delegate from home. You had a mutual understand of eachothers personal time, and schedules. You were never really upset that his job took so much time from him. He was being a hero, saving lives, taking down bad guys, you could never be mad at that. You accepted that he would not be around as much as a "normal" boyfriend would, and for the past year and a half, that has worked out fine. When you were apart, you were just you, but when you were together, you were one.

Today marked the fifth day he had been in Texas, and it started out like any other normal day would. You visited your bakery on 18th street and did some paperwork in the office. You had a meeting with you financial advisor to get approved for a new building to expand your bakery into a coffee shop. You stopped by Spencers favorite used book store and picked up a few titles you thought he might like. Finally you returned home, and turned on the tv for some background noise while you began to meal prep your dinner.

"A museum in Richardson, Texas has been infultrated by the Red River Cult. They are currently in a standoff with local law enforcement and the FBI, we have probable belief that there is an FBI agent being held hostage inside, we do not know what the cause of conflict is."

You dropped the plate you were holding and practically hurdled over the couch to turn the tv up. On the tv was a drone shot of the art museum, with nearly 100 police vehicles in front of it. The images were being recorded live. The Red River Cult was one of the most well known cults in the modern day. They had been disappearing and relocating for over two years, kidnapping children in their wake.

Spencer had told you all about it.

Because the Bau had been called in to help track down the cult after three more children went missing.

Spencer.

You felt your breathing hitch when the reporter came on next.

"Shots have been fired, however it is unknown where the shots came from."

You dove for the landline on your coffee table and dialed Spencers number.

Please pick up, please pick up

"Hey this is Dr. Spencer Reid, please leave a message and I'll get back to you soon."

Shit.

Tears were threatening to fall when you remembered the list of numbers taped to your fridge.

Running to the kitchen you tore the piece of paper off and began scanning down the list of combined numbers you left for each other just in case anything happened.

Doctors, his moms treatment center, your bakeries...Penelope Garcia.

He always told you if there was an emergency to call Penelope Garcia if you couldn't reach him, then she would.

You remembered that she was the computer person for their team. You had no idea what you were going to say, but you had to know if Spencer was okay, so with a shaky hand you dialed her number.

With one ring the line picked up. "Wit and Wisdom at your service, speak."

"Um is this Penelope?" You asked with a shaky breath.

"Yes, who is this?" She countered.

"My name is y/n, I was watching the news and, and they said an FBI agent was inside the museum and um, I'm sorry to call I'm sure you're busy-" you stuttered. Taking a deep breath you hurried out. "I can't reach Spencer and I need to make sure hes okay." You finished.

"Spencer? as in Spencer Reid?" She asked.

"Y-yes." You mumbled.

The next thing you heard was a gasp and frantic typing.

"YOU'RE HIS SECRET CONTACT!" She explained.

"I'm sorry?" you said, confused.

"I can run any of the agents contact numbers, and I noticed he makes a lot of calls to this contact, but wouldn't tell me who it was and to answer your question, he's okay, and I can transfer you over on one condition." She explained.

"Okay?" You agreed.

"Are you his girlfriend?" She asked in a serious tone.

You smiled. "Yes, I am."

The last thing you heard was a "Squeeeee" and the line disconnected and began to ring again.

"Garcia?" You heard his voice speak into the phone.

You let out the air you had been holding in relief.

"No, it's me." You said. "I saw the news and I panicked when you didn't pick up  my call."

"y/n?" He said, shocked. "I'm sorry baby, we've been trying to delegate with the leader, no one on our team is inside."

Relieved, you continued.

"I'm sorry for calling Garcia, It just felt like I couldn't breathe and I had to know you were okay." You said.

"It's okay, I understand. I'll be home soon okay baby?" He said, accentuating your pet name. "I'll call you when we leave."

"Okay, I love you."

"I love you too." He replied. Before the line disconnected you heard a deep laugh and someone say "who was that, pretty boy?"

When the line went dead you smiled to yourself and turned off the tv.

By the sound of it your little secret was out, and he might never hear the end of it. Yet, you were excited because you knew eventually you would get to meet his friends since they knew you existed now.

You set the phone back on the coffee table and got up to finish making your dinner.

———–

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Your cellphone was buzzing on the table. You saw Spencers contact photo and quickly picked up.

"Hi love." You said happily into the speaker.

"Hey baby, are you busy tomorrow?" He asked.

'Hmmm, no, why?"

'Well the team would like to meet you and we're getting back in tomorrow morning, so I thought we could all go out to dinner tomorrow night." Spencer explained.

The biggest grin broke out on your face. "Yes of course, that sounds like fun."

"Good. We're about to board the jet. I'll let everyone know."

"Okay, how far away are you?" You asked.

It had become a routine between you two to always know how many miles apart you were from each other, something about the numbers just made the distance feel more flexible. You preferred miles over hours that way you wouldn't have to think about how long you would have to wait for him to come home.

"Exactly 1,371 miles." He replied.

"Okay, I will see you in 1,371 miles." You said to him with a giggle.

"1,371." He agreed.