Waiting behind the counter, your hands start to get a little sweaty as you periodically check your watch. He should be coming in any time now.

Oh crap, did you hair look good?

You quickly pull out your little compact mirror to check your appearance. You didn't look disgusting... which was an improvement from certain times he came through. Your eyes flicked up at the movement above the mirror.

You quickly shove your mirror away as he walks in. He's a cute dude with long hair that met his ears. He held himself high, which was very attractive. He gives you a little smile that makes your heart skip a beat. His brown eyes were possibly the prettiest brown eyes one could ever have.

"Good morning, (Y/N)!" your cheery friend (with benefits), says as he walks in.

"Good morning, Dr. Reid," you joke as you two peck each other on the lips over the counter.

No, you two are not dating. Yes, it's hard to wrap your head around, but you decide to just go with it.

"I'll get the usual," he says, a dreamy expression on his face. Maybe the boy just woke up, or maybe it was just... whatever.

"Of course," you say in a sing-songy voice as you get his coffee together. "Anything new with you and your FBI job?"

"Yeah, actually," he said. "We had to hunt down an UnSub that imprinted the pattern of the stars in the sky that night on her victims' stomachs. What was interesting about that all was that her dead husband loved the stars, and the tenth anniversary of his death caused her to snap. He preyed on the more attractive women. My fellow agent, Derek Morgan, could test to that."

While many people didn't find that all interesting, you did. You found behavior fascinating, and you wanted to work in behavioral analysis.

"Wow! That's interesting."

"Yeah, definitely is."

Talking about Spencer's job reminded you of something that you have to tell him. Something exciting and not exciting at the same time.

"Uh," you start, slightly nervous, "I've been meaning to tell you this, but I'm actually going back to school to study behavior."

Spencer's face lit up, but his eyes seemed to flood with sadness. "Really? That's great! How'd you choose to study behavior?"

You smile at Spencer. "Ever since you told me about behavior, I've observed a few things about customers that order their coffee. Plus, the stories that you've told me have intrigued me. I think I want to try."

He smiles brightly. "That's incredible, (Y/N)! Does that mean that you're quitting your job?"

You smile a sad smile. "Yeah."

You could've sworn that you saw a small glint of disappointment in Spencer's eye as you hand him his coffee.

"Well," he says, checking his watch. "I guess this is goodbye."

You look at him, your smile gone. "It is."

You both connect your lips from across the counter. This kiss is full of nothing of sadness, nothing sweet or passionate. It whispered to you two a silent goodbye rather than a decree of love for each other.

You two pull away from each other and maintain eye contact. You both know that even though you're keeping it together, your hearts are slowly breaking.

Spencer grabs his coffee and pulls it away from your hand. His eyes look downward as he walks away with his coffee. You turn away and pretend to make some coffee or gather some scones. You turn your head back, in hopes that he would still be there. He wasn't.

And just like that, Spencer Reid was gone.

With quite a few years of college and behavioral experience under your belt, you finally get the opportunity to work at your dream place: the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. You've been working so hard for this, and to hear that you got hired was thrilling. You threw a party in celebration, and some of your friends from college attended, but mostly family of yours was invited.

You nervously inhale as you wait in the elevator to start your first day. You've studied behavior for seven years now. What could go wrong?

The doors of the elevator slide open, and you're greeted by two glass doors, with the Behavior Analysis Unit emblem on one of them. Your sweaty palms grab onto the cold handle and open the doors of your new job.

Standing there is your boss, the Unit Chief, Aaron Hotchner. Dear Lord, he got even more intimidating since he interviewed you. He walks you through a few things, talking about the unit and whatnot. Then, he leads you to your desk.

It's pristine and neat: just as you imagined it to be. You do have someone across from you, but you don't know who it is. Thanking him, you sit down and take a breath. You have a little bag of things that you brought to already decorate the scene of your spotless desk. You add a picture of your family, a jar of your favorite mints, some pens and pencils, and some books.

You look at the desk across from you that's got books arranged in every which way. Some books are stacked and piled high. Other books are lined up neatly. There's a single picture frame among the sea on books, but you can't see what the picture is. On that desk is a phone, a phone that all of the desks seem to have. Everyone's also got a computer, just like you. You fix your hair a little bit and look up at the door.

Deja vu hits you like a ton of bricks.