the journalist || spencer reid

|| epilogue

|| epilogue

A week later, Tate was still helping Spencer around the apartment. Today that meant a dozen donuts that she'd gotten from someplace right down the street. Their coffee was shitty, however, so she ended up having to make her own.

As Spencer sat down at the table, she realized his bag of belongings from the hospital still kept its same place from the previous night. "God, can we finally unpack this?"

"Wait," Spencer said, standing up from the table too fast and wincing, but still trying to grab to stop Tate's movements.

"I'll let you keep the bag for some weird keepsake or whatever, but I want this thing out of sight, alright?" she said with an airy laugh as she dumped the bag out on the table.

Then, a little jewelry box slid across the wood. Spencer grabbed it rapidly, hoping he was quick enough that Tate didn't see it. But Tate sees all.

"What's that? Why were you carrying that thing around?" she asked.

"Um, nothing. It's nothing," he quickly lied. "Hey, I think your coffee's ready. Do you wanna-?"

"Stop. Turn back around." Spencer halted his pursuit towards the coffee maker and did what she said, turning back to face her as she slowly moved towards him. Tate's fingers laced around his clenched hand as she asked, "Can I see it?"

He watched her carefully take the velvety red box in her hand and open it. Tate's breath hitched at the sight and she closed it once again.

"My mom sent it," he explained quietly. "Along with the Grand Canyon... JJ was right. She's waiting to see a ring on your finger. Her ring."

Tate didn't respond, instead moving towards the coffee maker and filling her Grand Canyon cup nearly to the brim, her other hand still clutching onto the soft fabric of the jewelry box.

"You look scared. Please, don't be scared," Spencer said, coming up behind her and looping his arms around her waist, setting his chin on her shoulder. "Tell me what you're thinking."

Tate set down her coffee mug and held the box out in front of them both again. She slowly opened it and stared down at his mother's ring. "You were carrying it around," she said.

"Part of me... Part of me wanted to show it to you. So we could laugh about it or even... talk about it. In some distant future, that is. But I was scared... well, of this."

Tate sighed and turned around in his grasp so her back was pressed against the counter. "And what do you think this is?" she asked genuinely.

"I think you're freaked out. Whether it's still about commitment or about labels. I don't know. But I can see you trying to hide it from me, in your eyes... It's fear."

"Spence, I think this job has taught me something. Real fear. Seeing one of my friends hurt or in trouble. You last week. JJ a few months ago. All of us have had actual near death experiences, some which felt more real than others, but it's almost part of the job description. Comparatively, this is... a breath of fresh air."

Spencer's eyes lit up. "Really?"

Tate bit her lip and looked down at the ring, brushing her fingers over the edges of the stone. She then shut the box and slipped it into Spencer's shirt pocket, tapping the place where she left it. "Keep carrying it around, okay?"

He laughed lightly and kissed her once. "Okay."

Tate smiled into the subsequent kiss and looped her arms up around his shoulders. She pulled back slightly to say, "Do you ever think about how all of this started with me as just... the journalist?"

Spencer chuckled again and murmured against her lips, "I love you."

"I know... I love you, too."

|| author's note

hope you enjoyed reading 'the journalist'! love you forever <333