CLANDESTINE : Spencer Reid

36

The month of January is unending. The profilers are gone by the time I return to work which leaves me with lots of time to race through UCR and NCVS data. Unfortunately, Caro thinks this gives her license to text me during the workday, whenever she can. I don't understand how she is an early childhood educator and manages to text while working, but she finds a way.

It's all Stéphane's fault. He's agreed to take Mylène as a date to the wedding if he cannot find a date by Valentine's Day. Now the pressure on me and Bastien is too acquiesce to her demands. Bastien tells me he's ignoring Stéphane. I am not so forceful. On the ride up the elevator one morning, I'm on the phone with him, dodging calls from Caro.

"Look at it from her perspective," Stéphane says. "She's marrying into a very traditional family. Her mother isn't going to be at the wedding, her bisexual brother is threatening to bring two men as dates to piss off Cletus, and Cletus' parents already are angry that she's not moving to Texas to become his stay-at-home wife. The least we can do as the older siblings is respect her wishes, even if we think they are silly."

"I think it's a ploy," I wish Stéphane could see me rolling my eyes. "I think she wants her kids to have cousins and is trying to get us to make a move on it."

"Would it kill you to be nice to your sister on her wedding day?" Stéphane asks.

"If she intends on following through on her threat of pairing me up with Cletus' best man, maybe."

Stéphane scoffs into the phone.

"You know, if you complain about having to bring a date, she's going to think you're really mad about the date of the wedding itself," Stéphane points out. "Listen, I'm walking her down the aisle and Bastien's doing the father-daughter dance with her. All you have to do is say a little speech about how much you love her and bring a date."

"I'm not going to argue with you at this hour," I tell him. The elevator doors ding open. "I'll call you later."

It's just my luck that when I hang up, a minute late to work, everyone is here. I didn't know their flight had landed last night. Morgan sits at his spot in the bullpen, the desk across from mine, and he waves at me.

"I didn't realize that when we left, you decided to slack off," he grins.

I glower at him, sitting down at my desk. The spot across from me is empty. Reid's not here. His coat isn't here either, which is odd since it's practically a blizzard outside. I boot up my computer and flick through the calendar on my desk. With a pen, I point toward Reid's chair.

"Sick?" I ask.

"He's running late," JJ says down the row. "Something about his apartment?"

"At least I'll get some work done," I manage.

"Maybe not. I hear my good looks are distracting," Morgan laughs.

I flip him my middle finger as I start to log in. Two-factor authentication. Booting up the computer. A new year, same login difficulties, same coworkers, same everything. The desk opposite me is empty though, which is new.

We haven't spoken since New Year's Eve. It feels strange that I've actually been thinking about that. Reid and I don't communicate outside of work. He doesn't have my phone number, even. Actually, I'm only tangentially aware that he has a work phone, even though he is technophobic.

The two-factor authentication times out. I try not to groan.

Thirty minutes into the work day, Reid comes in to join us. He struggles into the bullpen, carrying two big duffle bags by his side, neither of which are his go bag. His big heavy rain boots don't seem to help. Finally, he gets to his desk and starts to throw the things down.