Title: Acquired Taste
Authour: prettychemistry
Rating: T
Pairing: Reid/Prentiss
Disclaimer: No ownership of them... sadly.
Timeline: late Season 2
Note: This was my first attempt at SR/EP, from about a year ago.

***

Spencer Reid hadn't liked Emily Prentiss very much when she'd first come to the team. In fact, he'd said some - there was no other word for it - bitchy things to her, especially when he'd felt stressed out, because for fuck's sake it was not fair that they treated her like she knew what she was doing when he'd been a profiler for over three years and it had taken at least two not to be looked at like a child - and it was too easy. Emily needed him to like her. He was the youngest, the one everybody protected, and if he came right out and hated her... she would not be shunned, but she would never be family.

 

But he didn't hate her. Reluctantly, he even liked some things about her. She was stable and solid, had no apparent tortured past or hidden evil agenda, which, in their line of work, at least put her on the right side. Also, she was fucking persistent.

 

She lay in wait by the coffee, like a lion staking out the watering hole - the zebras have to go there eventually, it's their lifeline. (In safari metaphors, Spencer was nearly always a zebra.)

 

"Reid? ... Can I call you Spencer?"

 

Spencer shrugged, trying to ignore her.

 

"Spencer then. I know we're not friends, and that you have no obligation to like me, and probably don't, but... I'm going to keep trying. I like you, and I'd like to be your friend, but ... I'll settle for neutrality, and could you just please stop looking at me like that?"

 

Reid hadn't realized until then that he'd been staring at her, eyebrow raised, through her entire speech. He made his expression even again. "Sorry."

 

"So do you think we could get to know each other better?" Emily asked, and the guarded hope in her eyes was almost heartbreaking.

 

Spencer took a breath, and resolved to try harder with her. "I'll try to be more open-minded, if you want to keep trying to convince me to like you."

 

Prentiss smiled brightly, and he added that to his mental list of things to appreciate about her.

 

~~

 

Also on the list - she could quote Star Trek really well for someone without an eidetic memory. She owned a "Han Shot First" tshirt. She'd admitted it took her years to feel comfortable using chopsticks, and taught him how to use them properly, without judgment. During their Star Wars original trilogy marathon she didn't talk through the good parts or hog the popcorn. Her hand on his knee felt really nice, and she had incredibly shiny hair.

 

And then, as usual, Spencer Reid, genius extraordinaire, did something that was not very smart at all. Out at the bar with JJ, Garcia, Morgan, and Emily, he got a little ... dehydrated. And while he was suffering from dehydration, he happened to exercise a talent common to geeks, nerds, and their kin - he fantasized. Just for a second, in his mind, he was kissing her, pulling her shirt over her head - then he stopped, and decided to have some water instead of another beer.

 

But Spencer Reid did not forget things easily.

 

~~

 

Spencer sat in his lumpy motel bed in Nashville, flipping channels, when she knocked. (He knew it was her, because Morgan never knocked, which had led to some embarrassing moments and some stern lectures about privacy.)

 

"Come in, Emily."

 

She opened the door, entered, closed it. "How'd you know it was me?" Spencer shot her a look. "Right, genius profiler. I shouldn't have asked." Emily came over to the bed and sat down at the foot. "Can we talk?"

 

"We are talking."

 

"You know what I mean, Spencer."

 

Reid smiled. "Yeah, we can talk."

 

Emily took a breath. "You're being weird again."

 

"In what way?"

 

"In the way where you avoid me."

 

Reid sighed. "I know."

 

"What's wrong? Did I say something, or...?"

 

"No, I ... are you attracted to me?"

 

Emily blinked. "Well...yes, but I didn't plan to act on it, if that's what you're worried about. I really want us to be friends, and -"

 

"It never occurred to me to be attracted to you." Spencer admitted. "I never... but once I started thinking about it, I couldn't stop, and... I mean, you're an enormous geek, and you're beautiful, and love magic tricks, and have inhumanly shiny hair, and why wouldn't I be attracted to you? I just thought I wouldn't be."

She blinked again. "So what are you saying? What should we do?"

 

Spencer shifted closer, fingertips just lightly brushing the ends of her hair. "I could kiss you," he said academically, as though explaining a card trick. "Or-"

 

"No, no 'or', I think kissing me is an excellent plan," Emily breathed, and they both leaned in and tentatively kissed. That was all it took.

 

~~

 

A pause. Then -

 

"Your boxers have equations on them."

 

"Is that a problem?"

 

"No. Just ... saying."

 

Spencer arched an eyebrow, and Emily burst out laughing.

 

The genius grinned. "You know you're jealous," he argued, as he nudged her, compliant in her mirth, onto her back, working her pants open. “You have boring, sexy underwear.”

 

As he traced along the edge of the white lace with his tongue, she stopped laughing.

***