Chapter Text
Supervisory Special Agent Doctor Spencer Reid, possessor of three PhD's, an IQ of 187, and an eidetic memory, was undeniably a massive dork.
His tie was perpetually crooked, his sweater vest collection unnecessarily vast, and his hair in a permanent state of rebellion.
He didn't shake hands with strangers, he didn't have a good track record with kids or animals, with a few notable exceptions, and he was more likely to spout statistics than socially acceptable small talk.
His idea of a good time was to read ten books over the course of a day from the safety of his own couch and in perfect solitude.
In essence, he was a 60 year-old genius stuffed unceremoniously into the uncoordinated vessel of a lanky 20-something. Not, according to his admittedly limited understanding of human attraction, precisely a "catch."
So why on God's green earth did Aaron Hotchner keep looking at him like that?
Spencer didn't generally think of himself as being prone to conceit, and while the threatening specter of schizophrenia always lurked in the back of his mind, he was fairly certain he wasn't actually delusional. He wasn't drunk, high, or under the influence of any other kind of substance.
Having thus eliminated all relevant possibilities, in the style of the great consulting detective, Spencer conceded that despite its improbability, the truth was that he was actually being checked out by his boss. His straight-laced, stern, stoic boss. (He resisted the urge to roll his eyes when he noticed the unwieldy alliteration occurring in his head, as he was aware that rolling one's eyes at nothing might be considered odd.)
This phenomenon wasn't entirely new, either. The first time he'd noticed it, he was certain he was reading too far into a casual glance. He'd be the first to admit that his current understanding of social cues had been hard won, rather than innate as most peoples' seemed to be, and he still misread facial expressions occasionally. Not usually this badly, but it had been a long case and he hadn't slept for most of it, so he chalked it up to sleep deprivation and ignored it. After all, there was simply no way that Hotch was actually looking at him from across the jet with appreciation or fondness or any of the other adjectives that Spencer would normally associate with that expression. He had shrugged mentally and drawn his knees up into his seat, hoping to catch a nap before the jet landed.
The next time he noticed it, it was a miracle he noticed anything at all, let alone the slight upward tick of his boss's mouth. They'd hit the ground running on a serial murder case in South Carolina, and Spencer had dived headfirst into a geographical profile the minute they reached the local police station. When he felt the marker being tugged out of his hand, it took him a minute to come up for air, and when he did, nothing quite made sense for another minute. He was standing in front of his map, pushpins everywhere and a second marker over his ear, and his first marker was in the hand of a gently amused Aaron Hotchner. Hotch's other hand held a cardboard cup of coffee from somewhere other than the station's horrible coffee pot, and Spencer wondered if the place he'd gotten it was within walking distance, because he'd kill (hm, maybe not the best mental phrasing) for a decent coffee. He blinked himself back into the present and raised a pointed eyebrow at the marker in Hotch's hand. "Did you need that particular marker for something?"
Hotch shook his head. "Only to get your attention. You've been working all afternoon and you need a break."
Spencer was mildly shocked to note that he did, in fact, feel like he needed a break, and he wondered idly how Hotch had known this was a good time to interrupt his work. "Thanks. Might go get some coffee, if wherever you got that is nearby?"
"It is, but why don't you finish your first cup before you go hunting for more? I'd like you to stay close to the station in case we get new information that you can add to the geographical profile."
"First cup? I haven't had any here yet!" Spencer protested.
Hotch looked pointedly at the cup in his hand, and then back to Spencer with a tilt of his eyebrows.
"Oh. Oh! That's for me?"
"Yes, Reid. Can't have your brain slowing down on this one, even if it does mean providing you with ungodly amounts of caffeine and sugar."
Spencer grinned and reached for the cup with both hands, taking a drink and sighing happily. It was perfect, though that was to be expected. Everyone on the team could order food and beverages for each other at pretty much any establishment with great accuracy, since they'd been working together for so long.
"Bless you, Hotch. You are an angel among men."
Hotch snorted a little. "Are you channeling Garcia right now? You might need this even more than I thought."
"Sometimes I think she has the right idea, always calling us bizarre terms of endearment. Helps remind us that there are still nice things in the world, even when we're knee-deep in murder and depravity. Don't worry though, I won't be adopting the practice or channeling Garcia in any other ways. I couldn't pull off the heels," he joked.
A strange choking sound fought its way out of Hotch's throat, but all he said was, "One Garcia is enough, thanks. I'll leave you to it, I just wanted to check in. We're at something of a standstill right now."
Spencer nodded, mind already drifting back to the map in front of them. He refocused for just long enough to thank Hotch for the coffee.
"You're welcome, Reid. Here, take this back too," said Hotch, offering the marker.
Spencer smiled vaguely in what he hoped was a sufficient response, scooping the marker out of Hotch's hand with barely a glance.
With that glance, however, he couldn't help seeing the look on his boss's face. Hotch's lips were quirked up just slightly, and his eyes were warm and maybe even a little soft. Spencer didn't know what had brought it on, so he ignored it and sank into his work again.
Moments like these continued, frequently enough for Spencer to notice but apparently never overt enough for anyone else to comment. There wasn't truly anything *to* notice, in the sense that Hotch's behavior never strayed from consummate professionalism, but when you work with a man every day for years, any deviation from the norm becomes magnified. At least, that's how it seemed to Spencer.
He trusted himself enough to know that he wasn't looking for things that weren't there - after all, it had never even occurred to him that Hotch might look at him as anything more than a colleague. Sure, the team was its own strange little family unit, but family doesn't always imply closeness. If he had taken the time to think about it, he might have supposed that Hotch probably thought of Reid like a teacher might think of a well-behaved student - with a sense of responsibility, distant pride in Reid's achievements, fond wishes, etc. And while Spencer had always admired and respected Hotch, all his considerable brain power had never been directed toward any thoughts or -god forbid- fantasies of anything more than a solid working relationship.
He might have managed to dismiss the growing notion that his boss was looking at him differently if it hadn't been confirmed for him by, of all people, Will LaMontagne, Jr.
Will had managed to wrangle the BAU an invite from the MPD to work a case involving a series of assaults that, on the surface, had no common denominators beyond the manner in which the violence was inflicted. He'd sent the file to Hotch after a hard-fought battle with his captain, who was uninclined to invite the feds anywhere near his case but finally admitted to needing some kind of edge, as the violence was escalating and the latest victim's chances of recovery were uncertain.
Because the case was local, the team met at the precinct instead of at the BAU, and Hotch ceded control of the case presentation to Will, with digital assistance from Garcia, who had emerged from her lair to be an onsite resource.
As Will concluded the briefing, Hotch quickly picked the reins back up and delegated.
"Morgan and Prentiss, interview the latest victim. Rossi and I will visit the scene. Reid, I want you and Garcia working on geography and victimology. The MPD has done an admirable job and we can use a lot of what they've put together, but there are some indicators they may not have thought to consider. JJ knows a lot of the local LEOs and will stay here to liaise, so she'll be available if you need an extra set of eyes. Let's get to it.”
Everyone nodded and stood, except for Garcia who was already up to her elbows in financial records. Spencer had barely opened his mouth to ask where the nearest map was when Hotch beat him to the punch.
"Reid, Detective LaMontagne already got your maps set up, so you can dive straight in. Just remember to come up for air, and stay at least partially aware so that you can work with Garcia."
Coming from anyone else, that remark might have rankled, but from Hotch it carried only a tinge of exasperated fondness, so Reid just gave a mock two-fingered salute and followed Will and JJ out the door.
"Hey, don't take it personally, Spence, you know he didn't mean anything by it. You do tend to zone out," JJ teased gently as they parted ways to begin their assigned tasks.
"I know, and I don't. Take it personally, that is. Thanks for setting this up, Will. I wish someone would do this at every precinct we visit. Perks of working with my best friend's boyfriend, I guess," Spencer said wistfully with a vague wave at JJ's back.
Will raised an eyebrow, turning to look at Spencer as they entered the empty office that had been set aside for his maps and tools.
"I can't take the credit on that one, and neither can Jen. Hotch was the one who sent me the list of what you needed. You sayin' he doesn't normally do that?"
"Mm? No, I usually end up requesting supplies from whichever LEO looks the least annoyed with our presence," Spencer said absently, examining the map and consulting the list of locations that was written in Will's neat hand on the whiteboard.
"Huh. He was pretty specific about what you'd need, so I just figured it was a list he sent ahead to save y'all time on every case. Glad to do it, any time we save here can go to finding the bastards. If you need anything else, just holler."
Spencer tossed a quick thanks over his shoulder before letting himself sink into his work, although thanks to Hotch's warning he remembered to set a timer on his phone that would remind him to check in with Garcia every half hour.
The case came together rather quickly under their combined efforts, with Morgan and Prentiss gaining a few pertinent details from the latest victim and Hotch and Rossi capturing some behavioral implications from the crime scene that the MPD hadn't known to look for. Reid and JJ assimilated the information into a set of parameters that Garcia applied along with a healthy measure of technological wizardry to narrow down the identity of their UnSub. The team was able to leave the apprehension of the suspect to the MPD, and they found sufficient evidence to make the man's arrest stick, including his notes on his next intended victim.
Everyone was in high spirits by the end of the case, since its tidy conclusion and short distance from home would see them back in their own beds by the end of the night. Will was grateful for their assistance and delighted to have JJ home, and his offer to buy them drinks was quickly accepted by all but Hotch, who begged off to get home in time to put Jack to bed, and Garcia, who had prior plans. Spencer considered declining, but he had spent enough time with Will to know that the man wouldn't choose an obnoxious club, so he agreed without protest. Morgan and Prentiss were shocked and pleased, Rossi was already halfway out the door, and JJ had known Spencer would come probably before he had even decided. Hotch looked surprised, which is to say that his eyebrows furrowed almost imperceptibly, but only said, "Well done, everyone. Have a good night and stay safe."
Rossi could be faintly heard yelling, "Thanks, Dad!" from outside the precinct as Hotch left. Everyone laughed as they headed to their cars. JJ had ridden with Spencer, in the hopes that she could go home with Will at the end of the day, and she caught his elbow before he could climb into his car.
"Why don't you ride with us? You can stay over and see Henry in the morning, and you can pick your car up from here tomorrow when Will goes to work. That way you can drink without worrying about driving," she offered.
Spencer agreed readily, grabbing his go-bag from the backseat before following them to Will's car and hopping into the front passenger seat. JJ always let him have the front seat because, as she put it, "most backseats aren't made for legs like that."
As they pulled out of the parking lot, Will interrupted Spencer's silent planning for tomorrow's adventures with Henry.
"Why did Hotch look sad when Spencer said he was comin' to the bar?"
JJ and Spencer both frowned at him.
"What are you talking about?" JJ asked, leaning forward between the front seats.
"You didn't see? He looked like somebody just told him he wouldn't get to say goodnight to Jack or something," Will elaborated, glancing briefly at JJ before reaching back to gently push her by her forehead into her seat. "Seat belt please, cher."
JJ stuck her tongue out but complied.
Spencer, still frowning, said, "It probably didn't have anything to do with my agreeing to go out. If anything, I'd think he'd want me to go out, he thinks I don't take enough time away from work."
"You don't," chorused Will and JJ.
"Maybe it was just coincidental timing, then. It looked like a reaction to me, but y'all know him better than I do," Will admitted with a shrug.
That seemed to be enough of an answer for JJ, who started telling Will something she'd heard from one of his coworkers at the precinct. Spencer listened with half attention, dedicating the other half to replaying the interaction with Hotch in his head. But he hadn't been focused on Hotch at the time, so he couldn't recall the man's expression with any clarity.
He did his best to put it out of his mind as they parked in front of the bar Will had suggested. It was a nice enough place, old enough to be established but new enough to be clean and modern. Will had chosen well, as the bar held appeal for each member of the team for various reasons. JJ and Emily would clean up at the dartboard, Morgan had his eye on an old-fashioned jukebox in the corner, and Rossi was already chatting with the pretty bartender. And Spencer was hopeful that he could talk Will into a game of pool. They were surprisingly evenly matched, since Spencer had a doctorate in physics and Will had fond memories of the bars in New Orleans.
They'd discovered their mutual skill rather by accident when JJ had challenged them both one night and then quickly conceded when she realized how outmatched she was on both sides. Each man had been excited at finding a worthy opponent, and JJ had spent the rest of the night watching them play and plying them with beer in order to increase the comedic value of the event. By the end of the night, they were both drunk, and they bonded the next morning over their hangovers. JJ had just cackled from the kitchen where she was making them breakfast out of pity and declared herself the ultimate winner, which neither man could argue. They'd lost track of who was winning last night anyway.
This would be the first time the rest of the team had seen him play, since everyone assumed he had terrible hand-eye coordination and never asked him to play. And since Will rarely joined them on nights out, Spencer never bothered to play anyone else.
True to Spencer's predictions, everyone split off to their own pursuits. Spencer headed for the bar to get drinks for himself and Will, who staked out a booth with a good view of the pool tables so they could call dibs when the current game ended.
The two men chatted comfortably while they waited, making room for Rossi and Morgan when they ambled over. JJ and Emily were just sitting down when a pool table emptied out, and JJ stood right back up to let Will out of the booth. Spencer came back from getting a round at the bar in time to hear Emily say, "Jayje, are you gonna play? I thought you didn't like pool."
JJ laughed. "I don't hate it, I just know better than to play with anyone who could kick my ass in their sleep."
Spencer deposited the drinks on the table and wiped his hands on a napkin before turning to Will and grinning. "Ready to go to war, LaMontagne?"
Will looked at him with a straight face and a twinkle in his eye as he deadpanned, "Ready to *win* the war, Doctor."
As they headed for the table, Spencer heard everyone but JJ expressing surprise.
"Is Reid about to get his ass kicked? I'm not sure I want to watch the carnage," joked Emily.
Morgan chuckled in agreement. "Yeah, sorry Pretty Boy, but my money's on Will for this one. Wanna bet on it, Rossi?"
The oldest man at the table snorted. "I didn't get rich by making stupid bets, Morgan. No thank you."
Morgan turned to Emily and JJ. "Ladies? Care to make a wager?"
Emily shook her head, hands raised, and JJ just smirked.
"No thanks, I've seen this movie before." She leaned back in her seat, fully aware that the others would misinterpret her words. She hated that everyone, her included, constantly underestimated Spence despite the fact that he proved himself time and time again. Will had helped her see it to an extent, and had actually been the one to suggest that he'd make an excellent godfather for Henry. Looking back, she hated that she hadn't considered it herself, but at the time she'd still believed he didn't handle children well. Will had pointed out that Spencer was the kind of man who would undoubtedly drop everything to help any child of JJ's, and what else could you want in a godfather? Put that way, it made perfect sense, and she'd never had cause to regret her decision. JJ knew with perfect certainty that if anything were to happen to her and Will, Spencer would give Henry the love and care he needed to thrive. Garcia would help, of course, in her capacity as godmother. But she and Will had written in their wills that Henry should go to Spencer if they were unable to care for him. Spence had cried when they had asked him, and wholeheartedly accepted. Garcia had confessed to JJ that Spencer had a bank account where he kept money for Henry, to be used for his college fund or to support him if it should become necessary.
She was drawn out of her thoughts by an expletive in French drifting over from the pool table, followed by an exclamation of triumph from Spencer. The noises caught the attention of the others as well, and they all got up to find the cause. Will was grumbling around a bottle of beer as Spence lined up a shot that looked improbable at best, and Morgan made a noise of derision that quickly turned into shock as Spence neatly sunk a ball. Will hooked an arm around JJ's shoulders and shook his head. "His head's in it today, I ain't gonna win this one. Best outta three, though!" he said, raising his voice at the end.
Spencer looked up at him and grinned with a look in his eyes that reminded Morgan rather forcefully of a perfectly good MP3 player ruined because it would only play a recording of Reid screaming. "What, you wanna lose twice? I guess we can do that."
JJ and Will laughed, and the others looked on in surprise.
"When did you learn to shoot pool, Pretty Boy?" demanded Morgan.
Spencer rolled his eyes as he bent down to study an angle. "When I was 13 in college and too young to drink with my friends when we went to bars."
"You mean to tell me you've been able to do that since before I met you? Why'd you hide that? It's badass, man!" Morgan declared.
Spencer snorted a little. "I didn't hide it. You just never asked, and until Will I didn't have anyone to play with." He sighed as he yielded the table to Will, whose chances appeared dismal.
JJ's phone rang, and everyone tensed. The tension only increased when she answered it with, "Hotch?" She put a finger over her ear to hear her boss over the din of the bar.
"No, we're still here, why?" A brief pause, and then she looked relieved and smiled. "Of course it does! I'll text you the address. See you soon."
She sent a quick message and slid her phone back into her pocket and then looked up at the team.
"No case," she assured them, and everyone relaxed. "Hotch changed his mind, apparently, and wanted to know if we were still here. He's on his way."
Four pairs of eyebrows shot up at that, and Rossi said, "Really? I thought he was itching to get home to Jack."
"Apparently he's with Jessica tonight since Hotch wasn't sure when he'd be home, and she put Jack to bed early because they're going to the zoo tomorrow," JJ explained, looking as though she shared their surprise but didn't have an explanation.
Will was the only person who looked thoughtful rather than confused, but he didn't say anything, choosing instead to take his shot. The *thunk* of the cue hitting the ball drew everyone's attention again, and they were all back to drinking and spectating by the time Hotch arrived. He had changed before coming over, apparently, which made him rather bizarrely the least dressed-up member of the group. He raised a hand in greeting and sank into the booth next to Prentiss, looking a little awkward.
"What, you missed me already, Aaron?" drawled a slightly inebriated Rossi. Hotch smiled, barely. "Yes, Dave, an hour without your company was simply too much to bear." The joke signaled to the team that this unusual occurrence was not a herald of bad news, and everyone relaxed a little further. Morgan leaned forward in his seat.
"Not that we're not glad to have you, but what changed your mind? I would have thought you'd be happy for a night away from the riffraff, here," he said, gesturing to Rossi with a grin.
Hotch just shrugged. "I had an empty evening ahead of me and figured I might as well come witness the drunken antics in person." His delivery was so dry that even Will laughed in spite of his unfamiliarity with Hotch's sense of humor.
Will stood and rolled his shoulders before draining his beer and slapping Spencer on the back, noting how Hotch's eyes tracked the contact closely. "Alright Doctor, I'm countin' Hotch's arrival as an omen that my luck is changing. Let's see what you got."
Spencer stood, putting his hands on his lower back and pushing until there was a small pop.
"Prepare for defeat, LaMontagne. Again."
The two men headed back to the pool table, racking up with the practiced ease of shared experience.
Hotch watched with curiosity. "I didn't know Reid played pool."
"Yeah, neither did we. Almost embarrassed myself, trying to bet on Will," said Morgan.
"I take it they've played before?" Hotch asked JJ.
"Oh, yeah. At least once a month, more when they have time. It's been good for both of them," she added, looking over in time to watch Will flick a bottle cap at Spence right as he made his shot. Spence scowled as he looked up, but it was plain to see that he was laughing behind the glare.
“Are we cheating this round? Cause I'm pretty sure JJ would help me distract you, if that's how we're gonna play,” Spencer threatened with mock seriousness.
Will raised his hands in submission, winking in JJ's direction. “She's already distracting me just by bein' here. If we were playin' fair, you'd have somebody here distracting you, too,” he pointed out. He grinned as Spencer's eyes flicked over to the table, barely resting on Hotch before coming back to Will.
“Just because you're too distracted by a pretty girl to focus doesn't mean I would be, LaMontagne. Take your shot.”
“Aw, I think you're pretty too, Spence!” JJ hollered from the table, batting her eyelashes in his direction when he turned to mock-scowl at her.
The team watched the banter in fascination. They caught glimpses of Reid's snark occasionally, but they rarely saw him employ it so comfortably. It was a good look on him; he seemed more comfortable in his own skin, moving around the pool table with confidence and little of his usual absentminded clumsiness. Hotch wasn't entirely surprised, since he'd known since the Dowd case that Reid could use his physicality with efficiency and decisiveness when called for, but he'd never seen it in a relaxed setting.
Balls thunked into pockets and clicked off cues as the game continued, better matched than the first game but still distinctly in Spencer's favor. When Spencer finally declared victory, Will just laughed and slung an arm over his shoulders. “Defeated again. Well played, Doctor. I need another drink and I owe you one, let's head to the bar. Anybody else want anything?” he asked the table at large. He clocked Hotch's eyes on the arm around Spencer and tried not to grin. He might not know Hotchner as well as everyone else, but that just meant that he didn't have any preconceived notions that clouded his perception. Jen and Spencer might not realize it, but Will was growing more convinced that Spence had an admirer in the older man, and he suspected that Spence might not be averse to the idea.
Will and Spencer headed to the bar for the next round, and Emily turned to Hotch. “Glad you came out, Hotch?”
Hotch gave a small smile and saluted her with his beer. “I reserve the right to change my opinion if Dave gets into trouble, but so far it's been nice. I appreciate the invitation.”
“You know you're always welcome to come out with us, man,” said Morgan earnestly. “You and Reid both here is kind of like a Christmas miracle,” he joked.
“You know it's August, right Morgan?” asked Emily.
“Bite me, Prentiss, there ain't any relevant holidays in August,” Morgan shot back.
“Actually, Morgan, National Clown Week is celebrated in August, so we must be celebrating you,” said Spencer as he and Will slid into the booth and handed out the drinks.
Rossi and Prentiss laughed loudly, while JJ and Hotch just smirked. Morgan raised his eyebrows and grinned. “Pretty Boy's got moves and jokes today, huh? We gotta get you out to the bar more often if this is what happens! Next thing you know, he's gonna be flirting with the bartender like Rossi.”
Rossi scoffed. “Nobody flirts like me, Morgan. I have a very special method that's inimitable and not to be attempted by mere mortals.”
Hotch actually laughed outright at that. “True, don't attempt if you're not looking for three ex-wives.”
Despite the hand held dramatically over his heart, Rossi's eyes were crinkled with laughter. “All that says about me is that at least three women have agreed to marry me! I may not know how to keep 'em, but at least I can catch 'em!”
The ribbing continued, with Rossi and Hotch bickering and Reid and Morgan making faces at each other. The other three just drank and spectated, though Will switched to water in preparation for driving home. Emily and Morgan were the first to leave, as both had plans for the following day, with Rossi following soon after.
“I'd better get going myself if I'm going to let Jack drag me around the zoo tomorrow. Reid, I didn't see your car outside, do you need a ride home?” Hotch asked.
Spencer shook his head. “Thanks, but I'm going home with JJ and Will. Tomorrow is my day with Henry,” he explained.
“It's a great trade. Spence gets time with Henry, and Will and I get to sleep in,” JJ said, looking a little dreamy at the idea of a lie-in. Will stood, offering JJ a hand getting out of her seat.
“Hotch, you said you were goin' to the zoo? Hen's been dying to go ever since Spencer gave him that big ol' picture book about animals. Maybe y'all could meet up there tomorrow, it'd be great for Henry to see Jack again,” Will suggested. JJ looked at him askance, but he just squeezed her hand.
Hotch looked unsure. “Oh, we wouldn't want to intrude on his time with Re- Spencer,” he said doubtfully.
Will kicked Spencer in the foot.
“What? Uh. It wouldn't be an intrusion, if you wanted. Or if Jack wanted, I mean,” Spencer offered belatedly.
“Well, if you're sure... I know Jack would love to see Henry. Why don't I text you tomorrow when I know what time we're leaving?” Hotch asked, finally looking at Spencer.
“Perfect, and that'll give me and Jen some time to relax tomorrow. We'll go get the car,” declared Will. He pulled JJ along by the hand and headed for the door. JJ waved a bewildered goodbye at Hotch over her shoulder.
Hotch turned to face Spencer fully. “I'm sorry Reid, I get the sense that that plan was a surprise to you. We really don't have to if you had other plans for tomorrow. I'm sure you weren't intending to see your boss over the weekend,” he said with an apologetic crease to his forehead.
“No, it sounds great, actually. I'm a little surprised Will suggested it, because I know he was planning to take Henry himself, but I'm happy to do it, and it's always nice to see Jack. I'll just pretend you're not my boss tomorrow,” Spencer joked. His cheeks had a slight tinge of pink to them as he heard his own words and wondered if he was being inappropriate. He hadn't had a great deal to drink, but he felt a little odd and thought maybe he'd had more than he realized.
“Then I guess I'll pretend I'm not your boss too. I'll text you in the morning, then. Ready to go?” Hotch asked, smiling a little as he gestured toward the door.
“Yeah. Okay. I guess I'll talk to you tomorrow, then. Night, Hotch.” Spencer gave a small wave before climbing into the front seat of Will's car.
He turned to Will as they pulled out of the parking lot. “Why'd you suggest that? I thought you and Henry were going to bond over gators like true Louisiana men.”
Will just grinned. “We can do that any time. You go on and have fun tomorrow. Henry really will love to see Jack. And Jen and I never say no to a house to ourselves,” he added with a glance at JJ in the rear view mirror.
JJ smacked his shoulder lightly, but agreed. “It'll be great, Spence. For you and Henry and for Hotch. He's like you, he doesn't take enough time away from the office. Maybe you can bond over the sizes of your paperwork piles. Plus, you're both the only people on the team who have been Halloween costumes, you can swap tips!”