"Since when are you a doctor? Last I remember, you were no better than a tabloid journalist."
Tatum Katz had a rough start with the BAU. Her papparazzi-adjacent photographer being a suspect in one of their cases wasn't exactly a great first impress...
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thirty-six || "magnum opus" season 8, episode 13
"Where did you go?" Spencer asked as they sat, cross-legged, on his kitchen island, eating a pack of nuts and seeds from Garcia.
"You mean specifically?"
Spencer nodded. "Give me a list."
"Um, Tokyo, Beijing, Sydney... Amsterdam, Paris, Berlin... We went to South Africa and Brazil. Mexico and Afghanistan." Tate laughed lightly as she said, "It was amazing."
Spencer smiled smally. "Where was your favorite?"
"Well, London, because I got to see Emily. And India. There's something so special about the liveliness of some of these places at night. You should see all of Dad's pictures. He captures that energy and it's just... unreal."
His eyebrows drew together. "You called him Dad. I've never heard you..."
Tate laughed again. "Yeah. It's new... but it feels right, doesn't it?"
Spencer's face fell slightly. "You made the right choice, I think. Sorry I ever tried to convince you otherwise."
"You had strong emotions about me leaving. That's not your fault."
"But what I said is my fault. I should have... Bringing him into it was a mistake. And it was disgusting. And, everyday, I wished I could take it back. I'm sorry."
Tate nodded slowly and it felt like a weight was lifted off of her shoulders. "It was for the best. I wanted a clean break and that ensured that that's what we got, right? I got to go on my journey and you got to... experience other things."
His eyes roamed over her face, how she'd changed in her absence, as she was now focused on the food in her hands. "Tate... I wasn't lying when-"
Spencer's phone rang. The silence was thick as they waited for the person to catch his voicemail. Tate didn't try to force him to pick it up. "Hello, this is Spencer Reid. Please leave a message," his voice rang out in the now quiet apartment.
"Hey, Reid, it's Derek. Listen, I got a work question for you. The unsub's exsanguinating victims and removing their eyelids ante-mortem. Does that mean anything to you? Hit me back," their friend's voice said through the system.
Spencer pushed up from the kitchen island before Tate could blink. "One second," he said. He put the phone on speaker as it rang and brought it back to the kitchen.
"What's up, Reid?" Morgan said, attempting casualness.
"Have the cornea or pupils been harmed in any way?" he questioned.
"No, no. Blake said it looked like a very sharp instrument was used."
"If he's taking care not to damage the eyes, then line of sight is probably what's important to him."
