Work Text:
Hitting a white golf ball into the paper cup on its side shouldn't have been as difficult as it was.
Seriously.
Line up the shot.
Position the club.
Hit the ball with the head of the club.
Follow through with the swing.
Watch as the ball rolled towards the cup and then, as if in an act of defiance, it curved to the side and missed the target completely.
Spencer hadn't been this lousy with making a shot since his first year at the Bureau.
He growled as he stalked over, picked up the ball, and went back to his starting point. Of the forty-three times he putted this afternoon, the ball only rolled in to the cup twice, which translated to a four point six five percent success rate.
In layman's terms, Spencer sucked. Given his track record with other sports, he wondered why he was so surprised.
Maybe because he actually bought into Aaron's babbled explanation about how his degrees in math and physics would come in handy on the golf course. Spencer went so far as to measure the floor of his BAU office with the carpenter's level he kept in his desk to determine if the carpeting was uneven.
It was perfectly flat. The thought of rationalizing that the curvature of the Earth and the Earth's rotation played a part in his ineptitude was simply pathetic.
No. It was simply his own shortcomings. Doctorates Six, Sports Zero.
And what was supposed to be a break from reviewing cases going to trial ended up being more frustrating than actually doing the work.
Spencer sighed, put the ball on the ground again, and mentally called up the pages from Golf for Dummies on how to line up a putt. It was late-afternoon on a Saturday and the BAU was deserted except for him; otherwise, he wouldn't have taken a break to try to hit a golf ball into a paper cup in his office.
Line up. Practice swing. Swing. Follow-through.
Spencer glared at the white ball that had rolled to the left again. Two for forty-four. Four point five four five percent success rate. Of the forty-two failed attempts, the ball curved left seventy-one point four two percent. It didn't matter how he adjusted his stance or angled the club. The damn thing kept curving left. He glared at the ball before using the club to roll it back into position.
"Er, sir?"
The new voice startled Spencer, causing him to step back. He almost hid the golf club behind his right leg because he was embarrassed about being caught playing in his office. Then, he chastised himself.
If Gideon could play chess during business hours and no one gave him grief about it, Spencer Reid could certainly practice putting in the privacy of his office during non-work hours.
And it wasn't as if his visitor—Aaron Hotchner—was going to run off and tell people he caught the unit chief playing golf.
Spencer took in Aaron's attire: burgundy, short-sleeved polo shirt and nicely fitted blue jeans. Aaron dressed left today, Spencer couldn't help but notice. The look definitely made Spencer's Top Five of Aaron Hotchner's ensembles.
But nothing could really beat Aaron's debauched, post-orgasmic look at the apartment those weeks ago.
"Aaron," he greeted and then leaned on the club as if it were a cane. Spencer forced himself not to be embarrassed, even though the last person he wanted to catch him attempting to play golf had done so.
Spencer had a plan on how to use golf as an excuse to spend off-duty hours with the man. It was no secret that he advised JJ on Fantasy Football, shot hoops with Morgan, went to Doctor Who conventions with Garcia (always dressed as the Third Doctor), and attended Orioles games with Elle. He tried his best to make a personal connection with every member of his team as well as every person under his command.
Golf was (finally) the legitimate "in" with the newest member of the BAU, although it had taken almost a year to pry that information out of the man. Aaron was private as the rest of them—especially about what he did in his off-hours—although he did a little bragging about his younger brother attending Georgetown on a full-ride scholarship and how Sean Hotchner scored a 169 on the LSAT. Aaron had helped his brother with law school applications as well. Still, golf was the first extra-curricular activity amongst his team that was uniquely Aaron's.
It was also the first time anyone had every reasoned that Spencer's advanced degrees in mathematics and physics would help him play better.
Spencer's plan had been to practice enough so that he wouldn't be an embarrassment when he finally got on the course with Aaron. While he was taking a pass on Jamaica, Spencer figured the second week that they had off and Aaron was back in the country could possibly be spent together on the driving range or golf course. Hopefully, Aaron would make another overture and they would go a bit further than they had on Aaron's couch. He was serious when he stated that Aaron wasn't the only one with fantasies.
However, Aaron was the Master of Mixed Signals. One moment, it seemed that Aaron wanted to pursue a more intimate relationship with Spencer. The next? It was more of a mentor-student vibe. After that? A strict and painfully formal professional relationship. Then, it was back to the flirty, witty banter. Because of those signals, Spencer had held off his pursuit.
He felt that Aaron should initiate the continuation, because otherwise, Spencer felt that the man might feel coerced into a physical relationship. Spencer also was a good judge of character and usually didn't allow his infatuation to interfere with his personal assessment of someone. Aaron was definitely not the type of person who would use this relationship as a way to gain a foothold within the power structure of the FBI (which made him all the more appealing). All Aaron had to do was report Spencer's behavior to Strauss and Strauss would reward him for it. Spencer had been around the Bureau long enough to see that scenario play out more than once.
When Spencer brought Aaron on board, he believed that the person on his team who would have the most issues would have been Morgan. He thought Morgan would feel threatened by the Hot Shot who shot up the ranks in Seattle's field office. He thought Morgan would butt heads with the newest Must-Protect-The-Herd Alpha Male agent.
Instead, the two seemed to hit it off almost immediately. There was a healthy rivalry between them built on mutual respect. They gave each other hell sometimes, but it was never malicious. Aaron took his place at the bottom of the pecking order. He never once put himself above the Team in order to prove his worth. Never once threw Morgan (or Elle or anyone) under the bus in order to further his career.
Gideon, on the other hand …. One of Spencer's biggest faults was allowing the man to come back when he did, to clear him for duty and put him back out in the grind. Strauss had called for the man's resignation during that vindictive, post-bombing IA inquiry. Spencer chose loyalty over logic, championing for Gideon's absolution of wrongdoing and for his reinstatement in the Bureau.
At first, Spencer had dismissed Gideon's hostility towards Hotch as PTSD. Sure, Gideon rode the young agent hard, but Gideon did that to everyone until they proved themselves to him. After that, Gideon doled out tempered praise when the agent did a good job. But Hotch didn't respond like the others. Hotch didn't seek Gideon's advice on how to be a better agent, to be a better profiler. Hotch was the first agent who didn't pester Gideon with, "So why did the Footpath Killer stutter?"
Spencer had talked to Gideon several times before he finally addressed the issue with Hotch directly. Gideon seemed surprised that his behavior was being interpreted that way, that he had a vendetta against Hotch, and Spencer had somewhat accepted the response. When Hotch had explained his take on the situation, Spencer's heart sunk.
Hotch believed he deserved the rough treatment and was unshakable in that belief.
It was frustrating, but Spencer allowed it to continue because he trusted Hotch's judgement. But when the verbal attack came in Tennessee … trying to get the details of exactly what Gideon had said to Hotch had been nearly impossible. It was only after Spencer creatively threatened Morgan, Elle and JJ that they told him; in exchange for the information, he swore that the details would never make it into a report of any type.
Suspending Gideon had been Spencer's only recourse, even if it was just eight months after his mandatory leave from the Bale Bombings. Spencer spent the next two weeks examining every single case and consult that Gideon worked on since coming back from Boston, worried that he had missed things because of his blind spot for Gideon. The flaws he found weren't earth-shattering, but there were enough to cause concern.
During the two weeks he could have spent exploring the possibility of a relationship with Aaron, Spencer shored up those files. The morning of Gideon's return, Spencer spent dealing with Strauss and her desire to oust Gideon outright, to force the elder statesman of the BAU to retire in disgrace. Spencer couldn't in good conscience allow Gideon's contributions to be so summarily dismissed, to have any disgrace associated with them. So he pulled nearly every trick he had learned over the years in order to get a momentary reprieve until he could convince Gideon to retire on his own.
Spencer won. It was at a great cost, but he won. As a magician, letting the audience in on his tricks was inexcusable but he had broken that barrier for Gideon.
It turned out that he hadn't needed to at all.
Because when he walked into the BAU that same morning and saw the lights on in Gideon's office and the blinds opened, he realized Strauss bamboozled him.
And when he asked Gideon, Gideon explained how he talked to Strauss directly, admitting that he "might have been" harsh on a few agents, but he wanted to continue to do his job. He was unashamed to admit he had PTSD and talked about the counseling sessions with the Bureau psychiatrist. Then, Gideon turned that earnest smile upon Spencer and praised Hotch for being one of the best they had in their ranks in a long time.
Being manipulated like that had infuriated Spencer. Finding out that Gideon also had redistributed consults that morning according to Gideon's assessment had been galling. How else had Aaron ended up with the cold case Chicago file about the two murdered teenagers? Spencer took it out on his agents, but Aaron had been the only one who had the guts to call him on it. Aaron. Proud and brave Aaron stood in his office, holding out that bag of sweeteners and saying, I thought maybe for the next round that we could try coffee.
Doing his best not to shake. Doing his best to look strong and fearless but failing spectacularly.
Expecting to have the unholy hell beaten out of him but he was okay with that as long as Spencer beat the unholy hell out of him so that the others would be spared.
Babbling about golf. Trying desperately to do something, anything, so that whoever had a meeting afterward was spared Spencer's anger.
That selflessness and bravery made Spencer's heart ache (and his dick harden). He knew right then he was hopelessly smitten with Aaron Hotchner.
Hence, Spencer's attempt at golf. He hoped that if he made the effort for them to spend some private time together, Aaron would finally initiate something, even if it was as simple as an arm around his shoulder.
Now? Well, it was quite clear from the frown on Aaron's face that Spencer playing golf in public was out of the question. Spencer couldn't even make a putt in his office!
Aaron took a step forward, hands at his sides and brow still wrinkled in concentration. His gaze went from the club to the paper cup to the ball that was a foot behind and to the left of the cup.
Why, oh why, hadn't Spencer closed the blinds to his office and shut the door?
He could firmly take control of the conversation by asking Aaron what the man was doing here on his day off. Yet he refrained as he watched Aaron take a few steps closer.
Aaron then stated, "I didn't know you played," but his gaze kept bouncing between the club and the cup.
"I don't," Spencer laughed as he shook his head. "Well, not until about four days ago. While putting is an excellent example of Newton's First Law of Motion, I'm compelled to say that I haven't taken the curvature of the Earth into consideration."
It was a joke—a bad one—and Aaron usually caught on to them faster than the others. He was the one who usually held back a snicker. Today? Well, Aaron wetted his lower lip as he edged even closer. He glanced at the club in Spencer's hand before meeting Spencer's gaze, no humor in his expression at all.
"I don't think it's the curvature," Aaron told him, all serious and intense. "I think it's your club."
"When all else fails, blame the equipment?" he quipped as he offered it up for inspection. Spencer had heard the excuse enough in his lifetime not to be annoyed by the attempt to make him feel better.
"Seriously," Aaron insisted as he reached for the club and Spencer handed it to him. Aaron accepted it and held it so he could scrutinize the putter head and the handle. He then gripped the putter and settled into what Spencer guessed to be his golf stance, although he was hunched over more than what was recommended.
Aaron swung the club a few times before lining up and taking a shot. The ball rolled smoothly into the cup. Spencer's first cruel thought was, Show off. Let's see you calculate a probability distribution without a calculator or paper and pencil. Yet as quick as Spencer's annoyance flared, it died down. Aaron wasn't showing off. Spencer could tell by the way the other man shook his head slightly.
"The club is too short and it's for a lefty," Aaron announced as he looked up. He handed the club back to Spencer. "Please don't tell me a pro shop sold these to you, because if they did, they don't have any business being in business."
"A friend let me borrow an old set," Spencer explained as he gestured to the golf bag and set of clubs that were somewhat hidden by the old fashioned coatrack he kept in the corner, behind the door. He wasn't going to clarify that said friend was also his long-time sponsor and held the second highest position in the FBI. Spencer hoped that Aaron wouldn't walk over to the clubs and inspect those as well, because he was certain John's name was on the bag somewhere.
Spencer paused as he saw the expression on Aaron's face. Was the younger man upset that Spencer had gone ahead and tried golfing on his own without asking him for tutelage? While he had planned on asking Aaron once they returned from their respective vacation spots, Spencer knew it was better to explain why he was putting in his office.
"I thought about what you said about my advanced degrees being an asset on the golf course. I would like to take you up on your offer to, ah, 'hit the links'— I believe that's what the saying is—but having never golfed before ..." Spencer shrugged and offered Aaron a half-grin. "I do what I always do. Research."
It took a moment before Aaron returned his smile with a more bashful one. Spencer swore he could see the blush highlighting the man's cheeks as Aaron suddenly scratched the back of his neck. His statement came out as a question, "You want to go golfing?"
"Like I said, it's something I haven't done before. You were very persuasive a few weeks ago," Spencer said. "However, I believe if I was your caddy, then we wouldn't qualify as a twosome. Hence, my attempts at putting."
That comment caused Aaron's face to redden and him to look sideways. "Ah, sir …"
"Spen-sir," he corrected as his smile grew. It was goofy to adore such a simple affection, but Spencer did. Aaron could be so painfully proper sometimes. "It's three-forty something on a Saturday afternoon. I've turned my office into a putting green. There's no need to be so formal."
As always, Aaron dutifully repeated, "Spen-sir," but then closed his mouth, as if thinking better of what he was about to say. After a few moments, he set his shoulders as if he had made a decision. "I, um. I have a set of clubs you can try. I mean, we're about the same height. They're righties, and the newer one I have are lefties because I'm a lefty and I thought if I used lefty ones it would help … that is, if you don't mind using my old clubs but they're the right size for your height and the grips are still good—I had them replaced about a year before I switched over to the new ones—and really, they are a good set of clubs. I've golfed with them for years. I mean, they're not ancient or anything and the only reason I don't still use them is that I've been gradually replacing them with lefties. Wait, I already said that … but what I meant was …"
"I'd be honored to try your clubs," Spencer interrupted gently, fighting back a wide grin and wondering if Aaron knew just how attractive he was when he over-explained himself. And yes! This was the playful reaction Spencer was hoping for. "Thank you."
Yet Aaron winced. "Jesus, I sound like an idiot."
"I think you sound charming," he replied and bounced a little on his heels. The compliment caused Aaron meet his gaze again. Spencer couldn't help but grin now. He could see the indecision in the man's eyes and knew what he was thinking about, what Aaron was working up the courage to ask.
"Well, as long as I'm making a complete and charming ass out of myself," Aaron began, but there was humor in his voice instead of sarcasm. There was also a bit of what Spencer dubbed 'Hot Shot Confidence,' the self-assured side of Aaron that made him so successful. "I have a practice putter set back at my apartment. It has an automatic return for when you make the shot. And …" he paused again and made a little gesture with his hand, "I … I can help with your swing … if you want. I mean. Not that it's bad or anything …"
It took everything to keep the giddiness out of his voice as Spencer said, "That would be grand."
Finally, the younger man smiled again. Set dimples to stun, Spencer thought to himself as he always did. He also knew that Aaron was well aware of just what he could get away with when he smiled like that. Aaron asked, "Tonight?"
And before Aaron could say something about being presumptuous, Spencer immediately answered, "I'll pick up some Ethiopian takeout. It may not be traditional golf food—honestly, I don't know what would be—but you mentioned you wanted to try it."
That earned the full blown Aaron Hotchner grin. "Sounds great."
"Time?"
Aaron glanced at his watch. "It's nearly four. You probably have stuff to finish up here so …?"
"Six o'clock. Your place. Does that give you enough to do what you came in for?"
The man's grin faltered and he glanced away. "Yeah. Sure."
"You couldn't get a case out of your head?" Spencer asked gently.
"Yeah. Something like that."
The chief knew he could press on, but decided to hold off. It was something they could perhaps discuss over dinner. Instead, he offered, "You're not the only one who does that. Why else am I here today? I'll let you in on a little secret. Morgan prefers Monday evenings when football isn't in season while Green and Anderson have been known to come here instead of Sunday mass."
Aaron nodded as his smile returned. "And Elle?"
"I believe she takes files home with her, but don't hold me to that," Spencer replied. "So. Six o'clock at your place. See you then?"
The younger man beamed, his confidence back. "See you then."