Spencer Reid: Oneshots

A Rose By Any Other Name

Summary: Valentine's Day is not easy for 2 types of people—single people and florists. Reader is both, sadly.

Valentine's Day sucked. An entire 24 hours devoted to reminding you of how alone you are.

It sucks even more when you're a florist.

"Y/N! A new order just came in!"

"On it," you called out, quickly taking the phone and scribbling down the wildly intricate arrangement request. "Pick up or delivery?"

Of course it was delivery. Lazy bastard.

"Alright! See you in a few hours, sir!" The perkiness in your voice vanished when you hung up. "Can I get someone to start delivering? We can't waste any time!"

A young employee jogged over to you. "Uhm this man wants to return his bouquet."

"Return? It's only 11 in the morning—" You noticed the engagement ring in his palm, very much not on someone's hand. "Hello, sir. Just this?"

He nodded, avoiding any kind of eye contact.

"Store policy, we keep 20%. I'll refund the rest now."

"Thanks," he muttered, shuffling out of the store.

You had little patience for people on Valentine's Day, but people like him did remind you that the day isn't entirely sunshine and rainbows. Thanks, dude.

"Uh Y/N, someone knocked over the rose vase."

And back to reality. "I don't get paid enough for this," you grumbled, heading onto the floor of the store to clean up. You crouched down, grabbing a dustpan and scooping up the shards of glass.

A tap on your shoulder.

"For the love of God! What else can go wrong?! What do you want—" You froze, a little boy standing behind you with a single rose in hand, tears pooling in his eyes. "Oh, sweetie...no, no! I—I wasn't yelling at you, I—"

Tears streamed down his cheeks, icing the cake on your already terrible day.

"Hey, hey. Shhh, pretty rose! Huh?"

A larger pair of shoes entered your field of view, and you looked up, a man standing above you both. "Is something wrong?"

You jumped up. "No! All is well. I'm just looking for this guy's parents."

"I'm his godfather." He picked up the boy, gently bouncing him. "Did something happen?"

His piercing gaze in addition to the crying toddler in his arms caused you to drop to the ground, face buried in your hands. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! It's all my fault."

The man's gaze softened. "Hey, Henry. Go look at some more pretty flowers for mom and dad, okay?" He knelt down to your level. "Are you alright, Miss?"

You were choking on your own tears. "This is a very stressful day for me."

"Right. Florist. Makes sense." He looked around, helping you up. "Maybe you should get some air."

"Yeah, yeah," you whispered, allowing him to lead you outside the store. You inhaled the gentle breeze that was rather customary to this time of year in DC. "I yelled at your godson because I thought he was one of my employees. I'm sorry."

He chuckled. "We've all done something that's accidentally caused a kid to cry, right?"

"I guess so." You sighed. "I don't know why I'm crying. I'm so overwhelmed."

The man checked his watch. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Oh no! I couldn't ask that of you."

His eyes brought you an odd sense of comfort. "I'm asking you, not the other way around."

"I—I guess I could use some help with deliveries. There's so many and only so many of us in the store making the arrangements."

"Give me the addresses and some bouquets, and I'm on it." He grinned.

You smiled slightly. "What's your name?"

"Spencer. Spencer Reid."

"Y/N L/N."

You both stood up, Spencer holding open the door. "Give me as many as can fit in my car."

"Hey! Maggie! Can you please get me all of the deliveries!"

You helped Spencer load a very large portion of the deliveries into his car—and managed to get the toddler to forgive you with a chocolate bribery. "Thanks again, Mr. Reid."

"Spencer, please," he said, a small smile on his face. "I'm happy to."

"Good luck then," you whispered, the two of you looking at each other for a bit longer than needed for a quick exchange.

"Y/N! The line's too long to fit inside! Help!" An employee called from the doorway.

You grimaced. "I should go."

"Yeah," he murmured. "I—I'll see you—she's gone."

It was 5 in the evening before you finally closed up shop, and you could confidently say that there was never a moment where the store was not at maximum occupancy.

"Hey, Y/N," one of your employees asked sheepishly. "Can I go early? My partner has something special planned and—"

You smiled. "Go. I got it."

One by one, each employee filed out of the store, off to some romantic date of sorts. You might have detested the day, but it was sweet to see them all so happy and giggly.

You wiped down the counter, swept up the flower petals strewn across the floor, and headed to the back to take inventory.

The bell rang, indicating the door opening.

"We're closed!" You groaned, walking back to the front. "Please go away—Oh my god, Spencer?"

"Hey," he panted. "I thought I missed you."

Your eyes roamed to the bouquet of flowers in his hand. "Uh no...did someone not accept their order?"

"Huh—" He remembered what he was holding. "Right! No uhm, I just figured that uh even the florist deserves flowers on Valentine's Day, right?"

You tried to bite back your smile, to no avail. "Spencer Reid, did you give money to an enemy florist just to surprise me?"

His cheeks flushed. "Oh my god, I gave business to a rival! I'm so sorry—"

You laughed. "I'm kidding. I love it, thank you." You took the bouquet from him. "They're beautiful."

"So are you."

You looked at your feet, cheeks burning. "You too. That was weird. Sorry."

"Y/N, will you be my Valentine?"

"I'd love to." You looked around. "Now please, let's get out of here. If I smell another rose, I'll cry."

Spencer chuckled. "Don't buy you roses. Noted for future reference."

"Future, huh?"

His hand intertwined with yours. "If all goes well."

"I hope so," you replied, squeezing his hand.

Maybe Valentine's Day wasn't so bad.

happy valentine's day to all u lonely ppl!!