so i read @reidbyers’s ask postabout librarians and spencer and while reading it, this sentence caught my attention: “sometimes he takes so many books out that a lot of the time people come in looking for a certain book and they have to be like sorry…spencer took that one and 21 more.” and it gave me an idea/insp for a small little one shot, so thanks @wheresthewater and @reidbyers for unknowingly giving me this idea! also i’m so sorry if this feels rushed!
While studying to get your doctorate in Psychology, you were fortunate enough to have every book you need for all of your classes at your fingertips, whether having your parents supply them for you or finding links to it online. While writing a paper, you noticed the assignment had some references from your very early Intro to Psych book. You realized quickly that you were going to need to go to the library; you had since given that book to a nice underclassman.
You didn’t mind, but occasionally, a book you wanted to check out would be gone and they always said the same thing.
“Sorry honey, it looks like Spencer has that book out at the moment.”
“Well it looks like Dr. Reid has that book.”
“Yup. Spencer again.”
It seemed like every time you needed a book from the library, Dr. Spencer Reid would check it out before you. The three main, kind elderly librarians found it amusing every time you mentioned a book he had checked out. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think they were conspiring against you.
Sighing, you grabbed your shoulder bag and keys and made your way out of your brick brownstone apartment building. “If this Spencer has my book this time, I might just scream…” You muttered to yourself as you walked down the street. Luckily the library was only a few blocks from your place. You could smell the air and could tell it was going to rain. You picked up your pace.
Walking in the large building, you smelled the books and smiled.
“Well hi, baby, what’re you looking for?” Came from Franny, your favorite librarian, knowing your routine by now.
“Hi Franny,” you grinned at her. “Do you have this book?” You handed her a crumbled piece of paper with the title of the book on it.
“Hmm,” Franny entered the title in her desktop and smiled knowingly. “I’m sorry hone–”
“Let me guess,” you rolled your eyes.
“Spencer has it,” you both said in unison. One cheerfully, and one tired. You guess who’s who.
“God, I’d love to give this Spencer a piece of my mind,” you shook your head. “He consistently checks out every book I want and I actually need this one!” You exclaimed.
“What for?” Franny asked.
“It’s my final. Our professor decided against a test final and just gave us a paper final. It counts for over half our grade and I know if I use the material in this book, I know I’ll ace that final…you see, I’m gonna make a callback reference to our intro to psycho book that’s gonna tie up my entire paper in a cute little bow.” You rambled, a bad habit you’ve gained whenever you become desperate for something. “I’m sorry,” you said. “You probably didn’t need to hear this, Franny.” You shook your head. “I’ll just check back tomorrow,” you turned and left quickly.
If you looked back, you’d seen Franny pursing her lips, pick up the phone, and dial a number. “Hi Spencer. It’s Franny. I’m sorry to bother you but I have a need for a book you checked out.”
You chewed on your lip as you walked into the library for the third day in a row. You weren’t expecting the book to be there today or any other day, but you had to at least check. Especially since your paper was due in three days. You inhaled as the familiar smell reached you again, a smile on your face, placating you for the time being. Today at the desk, was Esther, a particularly nosy woman.
“Hi Esther, any luck today?” You asked, already knowing the answer.
“Actually, maybe!” She answered you. “Spencer is coming by today to drop off some books and pick some up, so maybe your book will be in the bunch!” She offered.
You raised your eyebrow. “With my luck, probably not. But I finally get to meet this allusive Spencer.” You took a seat at the bench next to the main desk where the librarians worked and pulled out your laptop. It was a normal seat for you whenever you wanted to spend time at the library.
“Do you want some lemon bars, sweetie?” Esther, the known cook of the three main librarians, placed two lemon bars next to you.
“Thank you, Esther,” you grinned thankfully at her.
Deep into your studies, you didn’t noticed that an hour had gone past or that the other two librarians, Franny and Dorothy snuck in.
“Is he comin’?” Dorothy, with her deep southern accent, asked.
“Yes, Dorothy. He told me he’d be here at 4:15 and that boy never lies to me,” Esther replied, rolling her eyes.
“You sure this is gonna work?” Franny asked, pushing her gray curls aside. “What if they don’t like each other?”
“Fran, those two couldn’t be a better match. My Henry (God rest his soul) told me I had a knack for seeing lovers,” Esther nodded.
“That’s cuz you were always putting your nose in places it shouldn’t be –” Franny began to rebut but was interrupted by Dorothy.
“Shhh, he’s coming!”
Sure enough, walking to the desk was Dr. Spencer Reid of the BAU. Trademark cardigan, scarf, and shoulder bag on. “Hi ladies, is something special going on? It’s rare to see you all here at the same time. Although I get the library’s newsletter sent to me every month and I didn’t see any events happening today to warrant you all here at the same time today.” He began to ramble.
“Oh Spencer, don’t you worry about us,” Franny waved him off.
At the mention of the familiar name, your head popped up.
“I see you’re returning some books. May I check them in for you? Y/N here has been needing one you might have for quite some time now,” Dorothy grabbed the books from Spencer’s hand and slid them over to Esther. “Now leave us old ladies be to check these back in.” She shooed him away.
“So you’re the famous Spencer Reid,” you said as you saw him approach the bench next to you. “I’m not sure if its a pleasure to meet you or not,” you crossed your arms over your chest.
“Excuse me?” Spencer was taken aback. He saw you and blinked. You were beautiful. His mouth went dry, his heart stuttered, he felt a wave of adrenaline rush through him.
You couldn’t help yourself. No matter how good looking he turned out to be, you thought to yourself. The rage built. “Every time I want to check out a book from here, you always have it, every single time! And sometimes you keep the books for months on end!” You huffed.
“Statistically, that’s impossible. There’s no possible way that every single time you need a book, I somehow have it,” Spencer challenged. Your voice sounded beautiful to his ears. He wanted to hear more of it. At least when it wasn’t filled with anger.
“Ladies?” You asked the librarians, without turning your back from Spencer.
“Every single time.” Came their replies.
“…” Spencer had no reply to the three snarky librarians.
“Hmm,” you smirked at Spencer.
“I’m sorry,” Spencer said sincerely. “I didn’t know. If I did, I would’ve eagerly give you the books you needed.” I’d give you anything you want or need, his thoughts said, catching him off guard.
“Oh.” Your heart stuttered. He’s so sweet. And handsome. And obviously he reads since he consistently checks books out from here. And you weren’t expecting this response from him. You were fully expecting him to be this alpha male with a bunch of bravado. “W-well, thank you.”
“What book did you need so urgently that Franny called me?” Spencer couldn’t help but ask, the profiler in him begging to do so. The man in him, curious to hear more from her.
You told him the title. “I need it for my final paper. I-I’m getting my doctorate in psychology and I need it for one of my classes.”
“Spencer has three PhDs,” Esther added, boasting.
“Esther, hush,” Franny smacked her shoulder. “Let the kids do it by themselves,” she whispered to her.
“Three?” You were impressed. “Wow. You’d have to be kind of a genius to have three PhDs.” You said non nonchalantly.
“Well, certifiably, I am a genius. I have an IQ of 185 and can read 20,000 words per minute and have an eidetic memory, but I don’t necessarily like to call myself a genius,” Spencer bashfully said.
“Whoa…” You breathed. “But you’re totally one. A wonderful, brilliant genius,” the statement accidentally slipped out of your mouth and you blushed.
Spencer laughed, blushing as well. “Thank you.”
You and Spencer engaged in small talk during the time the librarians were checking in more books. In the back of your mind, you were wondering why they were taking so long. They never take this long. But in your Spencer filled haze, you didn’t care. You smiled at each other, both of you taking in the beauty of each other’s smiles. You quickly moved your stuff aside for him to take a seat next to you on the bench. He quickly glanced at your laptop and instantly read part of your paper. The topic quickly jumped to psychology which jumped into talking about people’s minds, which, thanks to Spencer, jumped to odd facts. You were amazing by this man and all he had to offer. He had given you some extra facts to put into your paper.
Meanwhile, the librarians were smiling at the two of you, silently cheering you both on. The women had never seen Spencer smile as large as he did with you and you had never opened up so quickly to another person. It took even Esther a few months before you even gave her a smile.
From then on, you and Spencer had a standing date at the library. In your bench. Occasionally Spencer would check out a book you’d randomly mentioned before just to rile you up. He was never able to live down the encounter that caused you to meet. While studying one night, Spencer rushed into the library and planted a kiss on your lips, changing your relationship with that. While he made the first move in your relationship, you made the first move in the bedroom. He was scared of his inexperience and you talked him through it. He proved to be a quick learner and with him reading smut novels for experiences and ideas in the bed, you were never ever unsatisfied.
You both adopted a dog, which you named Esther because of the dog’s keen sense of smell. Esther found it hilarious and promptly kissed you both on the cheek. “About time you named something after me! I’d better get a baby named after me!” She cackled.
The team noticed he was always happier and sometimes would walk in with his hair and ties ruffled. Luke could’ve sworn he saw a hickie on Spencer’s neck during a case. When he asked the boy genius about it, he immediately blushed at the memory.
“I want to try something,” you said shyly one night.
“What?” Spencer smiled, holding you in his lap. He furrowed his brow at your shyness. You’d gotten over that long before.
“I know you have sensory issues, but…I just want you to feel. Don’t think, but feel,” you told him as you wrapped your arms around him.
“I don–” He was cut off by you kissing his neck. He laughed, “Y/N, I have no problem with you kissing my — oh.” He felt a wet vacuum on his neck. He could feel your tongue working on his neck, the feeling new to him. It caused a stirring in his body. The same stirring he got when he was aroused. He couldn’t help himself as he grabbed your face and kissed you.
“Spence, I wasn’t done!” You exclaimed.
Spencer quickly removed your shirt. “And I’m just getting started,” he smiled.
Time passed quickly, yet slowly in your relationship. You were both so happy together. You didn’t know if you could be happier. He had come to your graduation, where you first met the team. They were suspicious and thought he relapsed so they followed him to you. The team loved you instantly. You quickly became a part of the family. JJ and Derek often called you and Spencer to baby sit. You kept your standing date at the library, even though you had no need of studying anymore. The three librarians always happy to see you both.
One day you went to the library to see all of them there. That never happened. Unless, like Spencer said the day you met, there was an event. And you knew there wasn’t. “What’re you ladies doing here?” You asked cheerfully.
“Oh no reason, darlin’,” Dorothy told you, looking like the cat who swallowed the canary. Actually, they all looked like that.
To your surprise, Spencer proposed to you. In that library. On that bench. The squeals from the ladies were deafening. You swore they cheered even louder than Spencer’s team at your wedding. They each made long toasts, the guests confused at first. Esther’s was full of details you both hadn’t known she knew. “Nosy old bat,” Franny had said. Esther had the entire room cackle with laughter. Dorothy’s speech was filled with many, many southern phrasings and accounts of key moments of your relationship which she was witness to. She was always the one you came to during struggles in your relationship. And Franny’s was filled with wisdom, love, and hope. She was the one who orchestrated your first meeting.
No one was surprised, however, when you became pregnant immediately after your wedding; the both of you eager to start a family. Everyone was surprised when your water broke in that fateful library. On your bench. While Spencer panicked and called, in order, the team, then the ambulance. Luckily the three ladies had all enrolled in midwifery quickly after your first meeting and helped you deliver your first child, Diana Dorothy, in that library. On your bench.
You were happy to inform Esther, a year after giving birth to your first son, that his first word was ‘Esther’. “This is better than having a baby named after me!” She hooted.
Unfortunately, with the times, the three ladies eventually passed. Esther first, Dorothy quickly after, then Franny held on long enough to see the birth of your third child, a girl you’d decided to call Francis Esther. In each of the ladies’ will, there was one statement that remained the same. “Give the library bench to Drs. Spencer and Y/N Reid. It has always been theirs.”
That bench sat in the library of your home with Spencer, underneath a beautiful window where you’d told your children stories of the three ladies who were responsible for everything they knew.
“Y/n/n.. Y/n/n…” Mitch whispered and nudged you awake. “Hey, hey… it’s me.” You flinched backwards in your bed, your legs struggling to get you upright fast enough under your sheets. You were clearly having a nightmare about the attack. Mitch wanted to leave even less.
“What’s going on? Why are you dressed?” You asked groggily.
“I heard Stan telling Aiden that he’d be gone for a couple of days so I went and slept in my room after you fell asleep. I was worried he’d come in my room and I wouldn’t be there.”
Mitch held up Joseph Heller’s novel, Catch-22.
“You’re going back to Ghost..”
“Yea and I’ve gotta go now. I told Stan that I’d be down in a minute, I was just stealing one of your books. I’ll only be gone for a day.”
“Be careful.” You looked up at him with emotional eyes, and he nodded.
“I will.” Mitch leaned down and left a lingering, sad kiss on your lips.
“Don’t go.” was what you wanted to say but didn’t. You watched him walk out the door, your book in his hand, and you sunk back into your pillow. It was still dark out. You glanced up at the bookcase on your wall and saw the space where Catch-22 had been. It was the first time that he had left in a month and you were anything but excited to go through the day without him. You decided you wouldn’t.
During his drive from New York to Rhode Island to see his girlfriend. The last news Jughead Jones expected to receive from Betty was for her to tell him that she got a new roommate. A roommate that she couldn’t stop gushing about throughout the entirety of his three hour drive. And it was slowly driving him insane.
“Oh Juggie, you’ll love him. He’s just the sweetest thing.”
“Oh Juggie, I’m sure you guys will get along great.”
“Oh Juggie, Karl does the funniest things.”
Pulling up in front of the Betty’s, and stupid Karl’s,brownstone apartment, Jughead jumped out of his car and ran to Betty’s room ready to confront Karl and show him that there was no way in hell he stood a chance with Betty.
Jughead knocked on the door and within a few seconds, it flew open and there was a blonde mass jumping into his arms and assaulting him with kisses. Ha, take that Karl. “Juggie, I missed you so much.” Betty finally got back on her feet and led him to the couch.
“I missed you too Betts.” Jughead cupped her face and leaned in for another kiss. Before he got any closer, however, Betty pulled away and stood from the couch.
“I almost forgot, you have to meet Karl.”
“Betts, can’t it wait? We were in the middle of–.”
“Karl! Come here and meet Jughead.” The door to Betty’s room swung open and out came an orange furball, strutting like he owned the place. Betty quickly picked him up and settled back on the couch beside Jughead.
“Wait, Karl’s a cat. Your new roommate is a cat?”
“Well, I wasn’t gonna invite another man to live with me if he wasn’t you Jug.”
Huh, a cat. I guess he could live with that
Turns out, Jughead couldn’t live with that. Karl was monopolizing every bit of Betty’s time and space that he figured having Karl be an actual person might’ve been better. That way, Betty wouldn’t be coddling the damn thing so much.
It was during a moment when Betty was asleep and cuddled on the couch with Karl and Jughead was relegated to the floor that he could finally speak to the invader, man to cat. Jughead looked at the orange little devil while the tabby stared back.
“I think my girlfriend loves you more than she loves me.” Jughead reached up to scratch the cat’s head. “I wish I could hate you.” he sighed, “I haven’t seen Betty in a while and you’re kinda getting in the way of some valuable alone time. But… I’m glad she has someone to keep her company while I’ll be a hundred miles away.”
“Just don’t expect that I’ll take a backseat again once she moves to New York in a few months.” Karl licked Jughead’s hand and gave a soft meow.
NEW YORK — Gloria Steinem sits in the ground-floor den of her brownstone apartment with a young Zambian woman visiting America for the first time.
The lives of the two women — one an icon, the other quietly charismatic — could not be more different, though the paths that led them here share common threads.
The 82-year-old activist struggled with a lack of formal education during her itinerant childhood on the road, fled an engagement to the wrong man, admits she’s living the life her mother never could, and is the entrenched face of a powerful feminist movement. Her house guest is 26-year-old Alice Saisha, who struggled to stay in school because of her family’s poverty, at 14 nearly wed a 42-year-old man, is living a life her widowed mother could never have dreamed, and is an emerging face of a powerful feminist movement.