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writetomyheart2014-06-18 11:01 am
myxstorie.livejournal.com) wrote in writetomyheart2014-06-18 11:01 am
Entry tags:
[Team 1] Cocktails
This is me trying to broaden my writing horizons and write ~different people~! 8D!
Words made sense. Words and numbers and theories, they all had a logical progression that one could follow which would eventually come together to form a rational, coherent conclusion. He understood formulae and chemical reactions, psychology of behaviour and socio-economic groupings, he could explain the differences between monoamines and peptides and list off sixty different neurotransmitters alphabetically and by their common abbreviations. He could read 20,000 words per minute, had an IQ of over 180 and had three PhDs and two degrees under his belt.
But when it came to women, Spencer knew nothing.
"It's not like I don't know anything about women." He mused aloud, "People are naturally attracted to those with perfectly symmetrical features and straight women in particular are drawn to men displaying more masculine qualities, signs of pride, those with deep voices and prominent features. Also, a woman is more likely to feel attraction to another person when she's ovulating. Estrogen drives the initial attraction to another person, and their seratonin and dopamine and norepinephrine levels fluctuate which makes their heart race and their palms sweat. Did you know serotonin can send you temporarily insane? It's like a cocktail of drugs, you eat less, sleep less, you obsess over-"
"Reid."
Spencer stuttered to a stop, blinked, and lowered his hands where they'd been gesticulating wildly about his face.
Morgan smirked, but it wasn't unkind. "She likes you."
Spencer blinked again. "But why? I'm not typically masculine, I don't have a deep voice, my facial features aren't overtly prominent. You and Hotch are far more suitable candidates. It doesn't make any sense."
"Science can't teach you everything, man." Morgan clapped him on the shoulder with a grin, drained his drink and gave Spencer a gentle nudge. "Go talk to her."
"What?" Spencer felt all the colour drain from his face. "Talk?" he hissed. "I don't even know her!"
"So what?" Morgan said with a shrug. "She's cute. She's cute, and she likes you. Talk to her."
Spencer glanced over his shoulder to find the girl staring right back at him. She smiled slowly as she met his eyes, sweet and honest, and he felt the colour start to return to his cheeks in a warm flush. "What if I make a fool of myself?"
"Then you come back and we pretend it never happened. What've you got to lose?"
Spencer looked over again, and again she was right there looking back with warm, blue-grey eyes and blonde hair falling over a modest neckline. He turned back.
"What do I say? What do I do?"
Morgan shrugged one shoulder and nodded to the bartender for another drink. When it came, it was clear and sparkling with a tiny umbrella floating on top. He pushed it across the bar towards Spencer.
"Do something memorable."
Spencer sucked in a deep breath, held it in his chest until it started to hurt, and let it out in a long whoosh of air.
"Okay," he said eventually, "Okay. What've I got to lose. Right."
"Right." Morgan grinned again, and Spencer felt himself grinning back.
"Right."
Slipping off his bar stool, Spencer lifted the glass gently, careful not to spill anything, and slowly put one foot in front of the other. It felt like an age before the girl with the blonde hair was no longer watching him from across the bar, but looking up at him through her eyelashes instead, smiling a little wider now.
"Hi," Spencer said, handing her the drink and fumbling around in his head for something to say. "So, uh. Do you like magic?"
-
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yararanger, go!
Words made sense. Words and numbers and theories, they all had a logical progression that one could follow which would eventually come together to form a rational, coherent conclusion. He understood formulae and chemical reactions, psychology of behaviour and socio-economic groupings, he could explain the differences between monoamines and peptides and list off sixty different neurotransmitters alphabetically and by their common abbreviations. He could read 20,000 words per minute, had an IQ of over 180 and had three PhDs and two degrees under his belt.
But when it came to women, Spencer knew nothing.
"It's not like I don't know anything about women." He mused aloud, "People are naturally attracted to those with perfectly symmetrical features and straight women in particular are drawn to men displaying more masculine qualities, signs of pride, those with deep voices and prominent features. Also, a woman is more likely to feel attraction to another person when she's ovulating. Estrogen drives the initial attraction to another person, and their seratonin and dopamine and norepinephrine levels fluctuate which makes their heart race and their palms sweat. Did you know serotonin can send you temporarily insane? It's like a cocktail of drugs, you eat less, sleep less, you obsess over-"
"Reid."
Spencer stuttered to a stop, blinked, and lowered his hands where they'd been gesticulating wildly about his face.
Morgan smirked, but it wasn't unkind. "She likes you."
Spencer blinked again. "But why? I'm not typically masculine, I don't have a deep voice, my facial features aren't overtly prominent. You and Hotch are far more suitable candidates. It doesn't make any sense."
"Science can't teach you everything, man." Morgan clapped him on the shoulder with a grin, drained his drink and gave Spencer a gentle nudge. "Go talk to her."
"What?" Spencer felt all the colour drain from his face. "Talk?" he hissed. "I don't even know her!"
"So what?" Morgan said with a shrug. "She's cute. She's cute, and she likes you. Talk to her."
Spencer glanced over his shoulder to find the girl staring right back at him. She smiled slowly as she met his eyes, sweet and honest, and he felt the colour start to return to his cheeks in a warm flush. "What if I make a fool of myself?"
"Then you come back and we pretend it never happened. What've you got to lose?"
Spencer looked over again, and again she was right there looking back with warm, blue-grey eyes and blonde hair falling over a modest neckline. He turned back.
"What do I say? What do I do?"
Morgan shrugged one shoulder and nodded to the bartender for another drink. When it came, it was clear and sparkling with a tiny umbrella floating on top. He pushed it across the bar towards Spencer.
"Do something memorable."
Spencer sucked in a deep breath, held it in his chest until it started to hurt, and let it out in a long whoosh of air.
"Okay," he said eventually, "Okay. What've I got to lose. Right."
"Right." Morgan grinned again, and Spencer felt himself grinning back.
"Right."
Slipping off his bar stool, Spencer lifted the glass gently, careful not to spill anything, and slowly put one foot in front of the other. It felt like an age before the girl with the blonde hair was no longer watching him from across the bar, but looking up at him through her eyelashes instead, smiling a little wider now.
"Hi," Spencer said, handing her the drink and fumbling around in his head for something to say. "So, uh. Do you like magic?"
-
yararanger, go!
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