Spencer Reid | Oneshots

Bedtime Stories on the Jet ☁️ (PG)

Summary: You and Spencer share the jet couch.

Rating: PG (13+)

Content Warnings: None!

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One would think that, because the BAU is willing to spend thousands of dollars on each jet trip, they would at least be kind enough to keep it at a livable temperature. But no, every trip, without fail, we would navigate a freezing runway just to climb into an equally freezing jet.

But I had a secret. Hidden in the giant tote bag that everyone made fun of me for carrying, was the softest, warmest blanket that money could buy.

However, as I entered the cabin, I thought about the one thing that couldn't be bought: the warmth of a friend... Not to mention the extra adrenaline and body heat that could result when that friend happened to be a very cute boy.

Spencer had claimed the couch quickly, unceremoniously collapsing on it without a care in the world. All he had with him was a book that I'd seen him reading more than once. Although it was clearly strange, since he doesn't need to reread anything, I never asked him about it. It seemed like the kind of thing that was too personal for coworkers, and despite my dreams, that's all I'd ever confirmed that we were.

Despite all of that, I couldn't stop myself from doing what I was about to do.

"Scoot over, Dr. Reid."

The boy looked up at me with a playful curiosity at my somewhat unusual use of the honorific. The joy that little smirk gave me already had my body temperature rising.

"What's in it for me?"

He was a clever boy. He knew how much I loved cuddling on the couch instead of curling up in a single seat. But I was cleverer.

I started to pull the blanket from my tote with an equally playful smirk as I chimed, "You aren't the only one who can pull magical fabrics from your sleeve."

"To be fair, you're pulling it from a bag, which is significantly less impressive," he corrected, smiling once again at the way I rolled my eyes. Nonetheless, he sat up to make room for me.

I slid into the seat with a familiarity that was comforting. I continued to pull at the blanket and threw each freed inch sloppily over him. He tried to keep up with the pile forming on his lap, but eventually gave up.

"Wow. Can you even fit anything else in there?" he squeaked.

Instead of giving him a serous response, I took the end of the blanket and tossed it over his head. Resigned, Spencer didn't even try to move it.

Instead, that goofy boy lifted his book in front of him and pretended like he could keep reading it.

"You're so ridiculous," I said through a smile.

"What? I can see it," he retorted.

"Shut up."

He did not. In fact, Spencer cleared his throat before holding the book higher with one hand and casually flipping the page.

"Purity in body and heart may please some. As for me, I make no boast. For, as you know, no master of a household has all of his utensils made of gold. Some are wood, and yet they are of use."

He sounded so proud. I didn't even bother to check; I was sure that he had been right. I pulled the blanket down to reveal his face with no rush at all. The big goofy grin on his face nearly stopped my heart.

"To be fair, you have an eidetic memory, which is..."

"It's just as impressive, actually," he finished.