three doors down, part two
part 2, the wine
story summary: In which Spencer’s terrible cooking skills almost burns down a building, but also gives him a chance to get to know the girl who lives three doors down.
part 1
word count: 1,586
When Spencer finally entered the apartment building that night, he was more tired than ever. Yet, despite his eyes involuntarily closing shut every now and then, he knew that he would not be able to sleep tonight. The case was far from solved, and Spencer had a habit of pulling all-nighters to get to the bottom of them.
“Long day?” A voice said from behind him. Spencer's lack of sleep, along with the stress of the case, made him jump at the sudden noise, but the soft giggle made him relax once more. “If only you knew, Y/n,” Spencer smiled, turning around to meet her eyes.
“I was planning on offering you some leftovers, but I bet you’re dying for some sleep,” She said, leaning against her front door. Her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, small strands of hair falling across her face. “Actually, that sounds perfect, I wasn’t planning on sleeping,”
She looked as if she was planning on questioning his unhealthy habits, but ultimately she decided against it. “Welcome in,” She smiled, opening the door behind her.
Her apartment was warmly decorated, books and plants covering every windowsill and every table. She told him to leave his bag in the hallway, and Spencer carefully hung it up on the empty hook along with his suit jacket. “I hope you like Indian food,” She spoke, watching him as he sat down at one of the mismatched bar stools at the kitchen island. “It sounds perfect,”
He loosened his tie, feeling as if it was suddenly choking him. Spencer watched the familiar scene of Y/n dancing around in the kitchen in front of him, placing a plate of curry in the microwave before hauling herself onto the kitchen counter. “So, what’s up? Did you catch any bad guys today?” Y/n wondered, Her legs dangling off the counter.
“Unfortunately not,” Spencer sighed, loosening his tie a little more as he spoke. “But we’re close, I probably would’ve worked all night if my boss hadn’t forced me to go home,”
Y/n let out a comforting laugh, “I’m sure you’ll figure it out, if I remember correctly, you’re a nerd of sorts,” She hopped off the counter, grabbed the plate from the microwave before placing it in front of Spencer, taking a seat next to him.
“In a cool way though,” Spencer joked, taking a bite of the food in front of him. “And you are, what? A Masterchef?”
“Well yeah, I thought we had already established that,” Y/n responded, a wide grin on her face as she spoke, “But I guess you needed something to remind you,”
Spencer chuckled at her words, taking a couple more bites of her food, “Did you know that the name curry was coined by British colonisers because of a misunderstanding?”
“No, I did not,” Y/n giggled, “you really are a nerd,”
“Shut up,” Spencer laughed, Y/n smiling as she watched him take a second bite of the food. There was something so endearing about the way he looked just then. His wrinkly shirt, matched with his loose tie, and his curly hair was messy as he tiredly took another bite of the food. “What?” Spencer mumbled through the food in his mouth.
“Nothing,” Y/n laughed, her face turning red. She was yet unaware of Spencer's exact profession, and that every single reaction she had would be carefully analysed by the man next to her, but despite Spencer's tiredness, he did not fail to notice her red cheeks. He didn’t press her any further, only letting out a small laugh.
“How come you aren’t planning on sleeping?” Y/n asked, hoping her question wouldn’t be all too personal.
Spencer took a final bite of the food in front of him before turning towards Y/n. “Well,” He began, “It’s just a bad habit I have. Whenever I’m forced to go home even though we haven’t solved a case, I can’t help but stay up all night trying to figure it out,”
“It’s like when you have a song on your mind, and you know the lyrics deep down, but for some reason, you can’t think of it. It’s impossible to think of anything else and it just drives you crazy knowing that you can figure it out if you try hard enough,” he continued, “I mean, I have all of the evidence right in front of me, and I should know who did it by now, but-”
His words came to a halt, “Am I rambling?” He sighed. “A little,” Y/n giggled, “keep going,”
She rested her head in her hands, an endearing look in her eyes as she waited for him to continue talking. “I don’t know, I always feel like I know the answer, but for some reason, I can’t find it. It drives me crazy knowing that this guy is just wandering around out there, and my boss wants me to go to bed?”
Spencer let out a deep breath. He wasn’t quite sure why he was telling Y/n all of this, there was something so trusting about her, something so calming about her. “Do you know how admirable that is? Wanting to do everything in your power to help someone else,” She began, “But don’t you think that the reason why you can’t crack this one, is that you haven’t slept in like forty hours?”
Spencer let out a small chuckle, “You know, I’ve been awake for longer,” He said, almost bragging about his horrible habits, “one time, I didn’t sleep for three days,”
“I am so absurdly concerned, but also a little impressed,” Y/n giggled, “Just so I know. Is there absolutely zero chance that I can convince you to go to bed?”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?” Spencer grinned, “If you wanted me to leave you could’ve just asked,” he stood up from his seat watching as Y/n playfully rolled her eyes, grabbing his arm as to keep him from leaving. “Never,” She smiled up at him, a firm grip around his arm.
She watched as he sat back down, smiling. “I don’t want you sitting all by yourself sulking about this case all night, like a sad puppy,” Y/n teased.
“Sulking? A sad puppy?” Spencer placed a hand across his chest, pretending to be hurt by her remarks, “Ouch,”
The two shared a moment of comfortable silence, each of them with a relaxed smile on their face. Soon Y/n found herself rising from her seat, “Wine?” She asked, and despite Spencer’s polite “No you really don’t have to,” the bottle was quickly opened, a glass placed in front of him as she poured. “Wine it is then,” He chuckled, earning a smile from Y/n before she poured herself a glass.
“What’s your favourite book?” Spencer asked, seemingly out of nowhere.
“My favourite book?” Y/n questioned, earning a nod of approval from Spencer, “You can’t ask me that, that’s mean,”
“I am mean,” Spencer scoffed, “What’s your favourite book?” He pressed, watching as Y/n suppressed a smile.
“I don’t have one,” She said, “I like most books, but for different reasons. Some have a terrible plot but have amazing writing, and some have an amazing plot but terrible writing,” She took another sip of her wine, as she watched Spencer think about her words.
Spencer couldn’t help but agree, though he had never quite thought of it like that. He was a fan of the classics, either that or he read non-fiction, and neither of those categories was especially notorious for lousy writing.
He watched as she swallowed her wine, placing the glass back on the table. “I suppose you’re right,” Spencer said.
“Wow,” she gasped, “Dr Reid, did you just say I was right?” She continued, “say that again please,”
Spencer smiled at the title, not expecting her simply addressing him by his title, something he heard multiple times every day, to have such an effect on him. “Y/n, you are right,” He repeated, a warm smile on his face.
He couldn’t decide if maybe it was the wine in his system, or if it could be contributed to something else, but everything within him wanted to stay here with her forever. He wanted to move a little closer, if only to see her smile more up close. Spencer felt like he’d do anything to stay in her presence.
“You have a wine moustache,” Y/n giggled, causing Spencer to lick his lips in hopes of getting rid of the red stain. “Did I get it?” He asked, Y/n only laughing at the red line still resting above his lip. “Wait,” She said, leaving her seat and grabbing a napkin.
She walked back up to him, only stopping once she was standing inches from him. He couldn’t help but smile as she reached the napkin to his face, a smile on her face as her cheeks flushed red. His eyes met hers, looking up at her as she wiped the stain off his face. She lingered for another second or two before taking a seat back down, Spencer clearing his throat.
There was something within him that wished she would’ve stayed standing in front of him for a little longer, gazing into his eyes. An even bigger part of him wished that he would’ve kissed her, but it all seemed much too soon. “There you go,” She said, folding the napkin in front of her as a shy smile made its way to her lips. “No wine moustache?” He asked.
“No wine moustache,”
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