Author's Note: (Unbeta'd.) Here are Sam's and Bobby's phone calls to Reid.
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Reid's cell rang just as he was getting ready to leave the office that evening. He picked it up. "Dr. Spencer Reid."
"Hey man, what's going on?"
"Sam? Hey. I'm just finishing up at the office. What are you guys up to?"
"Well we're between jobs after finishing that one in L.A., so Dean's heading out to a bar right now. I told him I would stay here and look for our next gig."
"I haven't found anything lately, if that's why you called. We've been lacking lately."
Reid took a seat at his desk when Sam said nothing more. He could tell his old friend had called for a reason, but he wasn't sure what it was. He frowned when a thought occurred to him. "Did Dean put you up to this? He asked you to call because he couldn't get anything out of me earlier?"
"What? No! I was actually kind of calling to apologize for his call earlier. I told him not to bother you about it, but you know Dean. He's stubborn."
He couldn't argue with that.
"Anyway, I uh...well, I was just calling to check in. Haven't talked to you in a while. Plus I had to make sure Dean didn't say way too much over the phone this morning. If you need revenge or anything, I've probably got a good story or two for you to tell Bobby."
Reid laughed at that. "Ever the faithful little brother..."
Sam laughed too.
They sat in a comfortable silence for a long moment. Reid waved goodbye to JJ as she left for the evening. Hotch passed by, reminding him to leave soon and get some sleep. Reid nodded.
Then the team was gone for the night and Reid was alone at his desk. "Hey, Sam? Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure. What's up?"
"How do you know if a girl is right for you?"
"Is this about Lila?"
He felt self-conscious now. "Maybe."
"You really liked her, didn't you? You want to tell me about it?"
Reid sighed, considering it. He knew Sam would be a good sounding-board. He had helped Reid out of a lot of problems over the years. Maybe it would be good to talk.
"Well, Gideon and I were in L.A. for a conference..."
He told Sam the whole story—well, the whole story minus the pool incident.
"So now," Reid continued, "I can't really do anything, because I'm here and she's there. And I have a serious job here, but she's working there. L.A.'s across the country from Virginia, too. It's not like we'll ever get to see each other."
"But you really liked her, right? And she liked you?"
"Yeah. I think so..."
"So what do you want to do?"
"I don't know. I just...it doesn't feel logical for us to try to...I mean, not with me here and her there."
"Well maybe that's your answer."
"I should let her go then?"
"Not at all, Spencer. If you ever think you've found the girl for you, you had better chase after her. You don't get many chances for something like that."
Reid had been too afraid to mention Jess. But somehow he knew Sam was referring to her now.
"What I'm trying to say is that, maybe for the moment, you should do nothing. She's in L.A. and you're in Virginia. Maybe that means something, maybe not. But if either of you ever ends up moving..."
Reid considered that. "Maybe."
"If you keep thinking about her though, or if you think she might be the one, I say go for it. Like I told you, that kind of chance doesn't come around very often."
He swallowed. "But how will I know if she's the one? Mom's always told me that when I'm ready, the right kind of girl would come along and we would notice each other."
"Well, do you feel ready, Spencer?"
"I don't know," he said honestly.
"Sometimes you've just got to decide to be ready. With Jess, I certainly didn't feel ready. But I decided that I wanted to be. So I chose to be. Then, well, it just happened."
"But how do I know if it's the right girl?"
"I can't really tell you that. It's something you'll have to figure out on your own."
Reid didn't know what to say.
"Listen, Spencer, I'm not saying you should marry the first girl who's ever shown you any attention, but—"
"Wow," he interrupted sarcastically, "thanks for that advice."
Sam chuckled. "Sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I meant I don't think you should jump at every girl who shows you a bit of attention—like Dean does—but that if you get to know a girl, and you really like her, it's okay to try to get to know her better. And if that leads to a more serious relationship, well then, as long as you're happy, go for it."
Reid sighed to himself. "Okay. I'll think about it." He still didn't know what he would do.
"I can't make the decision for you, Spencer. Just trust your gut. You have good instincts."
"Okay, I'll try. Thanks for calling, Sam."
"Anytime. Call if you want to talk more later."
When Dean walked into the motel that night, he saw Sam sitting at the table, messing with his laptop. "How did the talk with Spencer go?" he asked with a grin. "You get anything out of him?"
Sam shrugged casually. "Not really. I told you it wouldn't work."
He wouldn't tell the truth—that Spencer had told him everything. Dean may have put him up to the phone call, but he had been planning to check in with Spencer on his own anyway. And Dean may have been his brother—the one person he hated lying to the most—but Spencer was like his brother in many ways, and in the Winchester family, brothers were to be protected. Sam knew Spencer wouldn't have taken Dean's ribbing very well if Dean knew the whole story.
His brother shook his head, almost pityingly. "Then you didn't ask the right questions. I knew I should have been here when you made the call. I could have given you prompts."
Sam rolled his eyes at that.
Reid dialed the familiar number the next morning to call Bobby. He had found a case on JJ's desk that needed some investigating.
Bobby answered with a gruff, "Yeah."
"I think there's a werewolf in Arizona. Problem is, the lunar cycle just ended, so it'll be a month until the next killings."
"I'll send Dodge over. He might be able to find the trail. If not, he'll know when to go back."
Reid gave Bobby all of the information that he had on the case, though it wasn't much.
"Thanks, kid. Anything else?"
"No. That was the only one today."
"Then what's this I hear about you dating an actress?"
Reid rolled his eyes. "Did Dean call you?"
Bobby chuckled. "Don't worry, I took the story with a grain of salt."
"There really isn't any story, Bobby. I just had a case where I was protecting an actress, and some paparazzi took a picture of us together. That's all."
"Okay. Fine. I was just curious."
"Well there's nothing to be curious about it. So you can just forget whatever Dean said."
"Okay, kid. Cool your jets. Just had to ask."
Reid smiled to himself. "Actually, you'd be better off asking who broke the sawed-off you used to have hanging over your front door when I was a kid."
"What are you talking about?"
"Dean, being thirteen and as dumb as a block of wood, decided to have a little target-practice while you and Mr. Winchester were out hunting."
"That was the gun your father made for me," Bobby said, sounding a little angry now.
"I know. Just don't ask me what Dean was shooting at—or why he was using it in your basement."
There was a muffled curse on the other end of the line. Reid smiled.
"I'll call you tomorrow, Bobby."
"Later, Spencer. I've got something to take care of."
Reid hung up, and dialed Dean's number. It was already busy.
"Serves you right," he mumbled, still grinning.
Author's Note:I don't think the conversation between Sam and Reid went quite how I wanted it to, but I wasn't sure how to fix it. Anyway, hope the fic was kinda fun for y'all. I just wanted Sam and Dean see the tabloid about Lila, so I couldn't help but write this.
I gave a hint of info about Reid's father, but some future stories will go further into detail.
Right now I'm working on two big stories for this crossover, The Informant 'verse. In the works, I've almost finished a story about how Dean's deal affects Reid. (It's being edited now, and will be posted soon.) Following on its heels will be a story written of a casefic crossover for both fandoms.
The casefic will fully explain how Reid knows Bobby and the boys, and let you know what all his father has been up to over the years.