InsaneJournal

Title: Lose the Pants
Characters: Dr. Spencer Reid, Elle Greenaway
Pairings: Reid/Elle
Rating: PG-13, for fade-to-black sensuality.
Summary: "He pauses, looking down at his pants. What's so wrong with gray trousers?"
Word Count: ~640
Prompt(s): "lose the pants"
Disclaimer: Criminal Minds, the characters and situations, and other related things belong to Jeff Davis and CBS, which is to say: not me.
A/N: ...I blame this on "P911" and all of its great Reid/Elle moments. For timing, it's right after "In Plain Sight," in my mind. Also: I wrote het? This is so odd for me.

Elle Greenaway, Spencer has decided, is a truly singular woman. He's seen other girls wield guns like her before. She's good, but that's not what makes her special. One of the girls in his group of trainees was actually a more accurate shot than Elle is; her name was Elaine, she'd studied criminal justice and international relations at U-Mass and Mount Holyoke, and, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake everything about her that was so singularly Alaskan. Once, over a round of Friday night drinks, she interrupted a round of "Quiz Reid on Star Trek Until Everyone's Shit-Faced" to postulate that what the crew of the USS Enterprise needed to do was skin the Tribbles and turn them into coats. "That," she said, resting her head on his shoulder, her words slurring and her face slowly turning red. "That is how you can clear an infestation out right fuckin' quick." She's in Counterterrorism now and, every now and then, she'll pass Spencer in the halls and ask if the serial killers are treating him well. Only now, several years after the fact, does he realize how often she tried to flirt with him. What makes Elle special isn't even that she's a strong, independent woman, Spencer muses, playing with a rubber band instead of finishing his report for Hotch. If interpreted properly, it could be said that Spencer's life has been defined by a series of strong, independent women -- and, well... Gideon. There was Mom first, who set several precedents for her successors; Professor Chilson, who oversaw Spencer's Chemistry Doctorate at CalTech and took him around to all the important lectures and conventions, introducing him to everyone as her "little genius," even though he was nine-and-a-half inches taller; JJ, who became his older sister as soon as she noticed how he'd handled his first day ("badly," as a matter of strength of concepts, really did not cover it)... And now there's Elle. Elle, the effusive, street-smart Brooklyn girl with the uncompromising ethics. Elle, the new addition to the team. Elle, who laughs brightly as, out of nowhere, a pair of black leather pants lands right on Spencer's report. He looks up at her, brow furrowed, to see that she is wearing an outfit that Spencer's sure Hotch would tell her to change immediately. Surely, there has to be some dress code that her skirt's length is in violation of, and he's positive that her shirt is showcasing everything... and thensome. "Come on, birthday boy," she says with a laugh. "Lose the pants, we're going out." "But, I..." He pauses, looking down at his pants. What's so wrong with gray trousers? "...What do you mean?" "It's your birthday," she retorts, smirking and crossing to his desk. "We're going out to celebrate." "...Is Hotch coming?" "Reid, this isn't a 'the team' we. It's a 'me and you' we. Besides, would you really want to go to a club with Hotch?" Now that he thinks about it, no. Having never been to a club, Spencer has no functional frame of reference, but, at the same time, he knows what happens at clubs and, while he can't honestly see himself in one, he has a harder time picturing Hotch there. Her face contorted like an imp's, she snaps to bring him out of his own head. "Lose the pants," she says again, pointing at Spencer's gray slacks and shoving the leather pants in his direction. She uses that phrase once more before the night is out and, when she does, Spencer is much more willing to acquiesce: this time, he's in Elle's home and she's just shoved him onto her bed.