I was writing a thing and I started going trough my WIPs and found this, so I finished it and TA-DA! I am also fairly certain this is a fulfilled prompt, so this is for the ones requesting Darcy/Spencer :) Here you go:
Darcy Lewis/Spencer Reid; Darcy Lewis & Derek Morgan
“So I know a lot more about serial killers from the eighties than I ever thought I would.” Darcy said, finally managing to interrupt the man – man? He was really skinny, and with one of those faces that could be both thirty and fifteen at the same time, – his shoulders tensing at the interruption. He spun quickly on his heel, looking just as confused as she felt.
“You’re not Derek.” He stated, his brows furrowing in thought. He reminded her of Jane when she’d come out of her ‘groove’ and had to deal with the shock of the real world, not just the hypothetical one. His eyes were really pretty though, and his glasses made them seem just that little bit bigger. She fell a little bit in love, really – not that she’d ever admit to it. Just a little bit.
“No shit.” Darcy huffed, and then remembered why she’d even come to the messy and almost deserted conference room when his eyes locked on the cup of tea in her hand. “Derek did tell me where to find you though, and that you prefer chamomile tea to the coffee here.”
“I prefer anything to the coffee here,” He reached out to grab the cup she offered, and mumbled a thank you. She grinned smugly when he tasted it, his eyes widening in surprise.
“Good, huh?” Darcy bounced on the balls of her toes, unreasonably pleased with herself. He nodded, already going in for his third sip and not at all interested in speaking, even though he’d proven himself more than capable of the fact – really, she wasn’t kidding; she knew a lot about serial killers from the eighties. “I’m the only one Bruce trust with his tea, so I’ve sort of become a master of it.”
He looked up at that, head tilting to the side like a puppy as he thought it over. It always stumped people, the reminder that with the Hulk and Bruce, alter ego didn’t even begin to cover it.
“It is delicious,” He said, smiling softly, “Reminds me of my mother reading books to me after dinner.”
“My father preferred cinnamon tea, so he stuffed me with that. He said that you can’t be drinking tea meant for sleeping when we’re reading Tolkien,” Darcy grinned again, rolling her eyes at her father even though he was miles away. “It’s disrespectful, apparently.”
“I agree with him,” Spencer said, placing the cup on the table to their left, managing to find space for it between the case files and police reports Garcia and Jarvis had managed to dig up. “But you have to be careful; too much cinnamon is dangerous.”
“I solemnly swear to watch out for cinnamon – the silent killer.” Darcy promised, finally giving into the smile she was holding back. “I’m Darcy, by the way.”
“Spencer,” He – Spencer – said, shaking her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
awwwww look how CUTE they are