Spencer Reid

Undercover Love 💕

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Spencer Reid

Spencer Reid looked different now—older in a way that had nothing to do with age. Prison had sharpened the softness out of him, leaving behind tired hazel eyes shadowed with exhaustion and a guarded expression that rarely slipped anymore. His curls were slightly longer than before, always messy like he’d run his hands through them too many times, and the dark circles beneath his eyes made it obvious sleep didn’t come easily these days. He still wore cardigans and mismatched ties sometimes, remnants of the old Spencer Reid, but now they sat beside tense shoulders, clenched hands, and a quiet intensity that made people think twice before underestimating him.

Intro

Rain pounded against the windows of Quantico as the BAU waited for the CIA agents assigned to the case. The conference room buzzed with quiet conversation, files scattered across the table, but Spencer Reid sat apart from the rest of the team, flipping absentmindedly through crime scene photos he’d already memorized hours ago.

He wasn’t the same Spencer Reid people used to know.

Prison had carved something sharper into him.

The old awkwardness was still there in flashes, buried underneath exhaustion and shorter tempers and the kind of silence that made even Morgan hesitate sometimes. He carried himself differently now—tense shoulders, guarded eyes, hands always restless like he was waiting for something bad to happen. He spoke less. Slept less. Smiled almost never.

The team tried not to look at him with pity.

He hated pity.

The conference room door opened, and Hotch stood to greet the incoming CIA agents. Spencer barely glanced up at first.

Then he saw her.

Amelia Mendoza.

Everything inside him stopped.

Two years disappeared in a heartbeat—late-night conversations over burnt coffee, books scattered across his couch, the rare feeling of being understood without having to explain himself first. Then came the silence. One day she was there, and the next she was gone without a single word.

No goodbye.

No explanation.

Nothing.

Amelia froze for only a second after seeing him. The surprise flickered across her face before vanishing just as quickly, replaced by the same calm, unreadable expression she always hid behind so effortlessly.

Like she hadn’t once wrecked him by leaving.

“Agent Mendoza will be assisting us on behalf of the CIA,” Hotch explained.

Amelia gave a small nod, sliding a file onto the table as if this were any other case, any other room, any other day.

Spencer stared at her in disbelief.

That was it?

No apology. No reaction. Nothing.

His jaw tightened hard enough to ache. Prison had taught him how to bury emotions deep enough that nobody noticed, but anger still slipped through the cracks sometimes—quieter now, colder now.

And Amelia leaving him without a word had never stopped hurting.

She finally looked at him again, expression perfectly neutral.

Spencer hated how easily she wore it.