Title: My Good Shirt's For Church
By: Star Sheep
Pairing: JJ/Reid
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes: I haven't written Criminal Minds fan fiction before, so if this isn't the norm I apologize. This is AU later and possible OOC may occur. If you don't like what you're reading, press the back button. PLESE do not bash me. Thank you.
Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds. Bummer.
Summary: Reid reflects back to an incident that happened when he was in high school that helped form who he is today. He thinks and may just be able to have courage to ask JJ out. What will happen with this young couple? AU and possible OOC.


Reid's Point Of View

When I look back, it was a pathetic excuse. "My good shirt is for church." Who says that anyway? I doubt they believed it anyway. It was the first thing that came to my mind and out my mouth. I was twelve.

I was a senior in high school at the time. Well, that was the grade was in but I wasn't consider a senior, at least now when I think back to it I wasn't really a "senior" like the rest of my classmates.

I don't like to consider myself a genius. When you're a twelve year old graduating high school and you get cocky, it doesn't end well with other students.

And when you're twelve and you have four seniors; actually seniors picking on you and throwing questions at you like you're someone to be interrogated for a crime, you get scared. You're freaked out, and stupid things come out of your mouth. Stupid things that make them laugh. And I hated hearing them laugh.

I have never dressed "normal." I dress in what I please and from what I see it's not the typical generic form of fashion. I haven't changed that much. I dress basically the same way I did then. And then was when it seemed like an issue.

'Hey Spencer!' They had said sitting down next to me. They were so much taller than me; all four of them. One of them, the tallest stongest one looked at my t-shirt I had on.

'What's up with your shirt genius?' They had mocked. I was used to this by then.

'What's wrong with it?' I had replied, shyly yet trying to sound as forceful and strong as possible which didn't count for much. They laughed. All four of them.

'Why don't ya just dress like the rest of us? Why don't you try to fit in as much as you can? Which is impossible to do since you're the short genius boy.'

'I like my clothes…' I had said simply. They laughed again and I remember I had tried not to cringe.

'Well it makes you look more like a dork than you already are. It's not like you're gonna get any friends here wearing that thing!'

'I have friends…' I said softly. I did. A few of the younger kids in my neighborhood. A few but enough. Other smart kids who I could talk to.

'Those other nerds?' They said laughing.

'Don't insult my friends!' I had yelled suddenly. 'Just because I don't have tons of cool shirt like you means nothing! Just because I don't have as many friends as you doesn't mean you can tease me!' I had yelled frustrated. I got the things I got, and I asked for nothing more. My family didn't have as much money as everyone else in this school, which made me stick out even more. Poor short smart boy.

They laughed at me.

'Why don't you just wear a nice shirt for once short stuff?' they said still laughing. I had pulled my books to my chest to walk away from the lunch table.

'I only have one nice shirt. I can't wear it to school.'

'You only have one?' They were rolling with laughter now and I had reached by breaking point. 'Why can't you wear it to school smartie pants?' They said in high childish mocking voices.

I opened my mouth to speak. I didn't want to wear that one nice shirt. I didn't want to be like the other people there! Why would I want to be like them? These people that had done nothing but be mean to me? I didn't want to dress like them I didn't want to be like them, and even if I did I only had one shirt. Just one, just that one nice blue one my mom said went well with my eyes that I never wear.

I knew I needed to answer them. Why couldn't I wear this shirt? I couldn't give the real answer; that I WANTED to be different. I was different. I opened my mouth again and said the first thing that popped into my head.

'My good shirt is for Church.' I said that and had ran away like the scared little boy I was, listening to them laughing behind me.

I haven't thought about that day in ages. I thought about it now as I sat drinking my coffee at my desk.

I'm much older and taller now. I'm a member of the BAU with the FBI but I still dress the same, and I never wore that shirt.

"Spenc….Gideon needs you." JJ said across the room, distracting me form my memories. I blinked and looked up at her, looked at her blond hair, her beautiful eyes. She looked in a hurry, but it was obvious she was waiting for me. People never waited for me then, and even if they did when they walked I couldn't keep up.

I stood and walked with JJ. I walked wth her, and could keep up with her with no problem, which wouldn't be a big deal to almost everyone.

But keeping up with a gorgeous girl like JJ, that's a huge deal for me.

I finally was somebody. I wasn't in high school but I am now. I made something of myself. Ever since that day when those boys challenged who I was I've silently fought every barrier and obstacle in front of me.

I fought hard and quietly, but I am who I am today because of it.

I look over at JJ, smiling in her direction hoping she was looking at me. She is looking dead ahead and isn't looking at me and wasn't smiling either. I nodded slightly to myself.

Maybe I still wasn't much. I'm not that attractive, I know I'm the worst dresser around, I know I'm a geek and I know I intimidate some with the things I know. I know I wasn't anything someone like JJ disserved.

But at least I'm something. And right now, that's good enough for me.


JJ's Point of View

Introduce the case, go to the crime scene, talk to family members, speak with the press that were present, do what I can, then finally go home, at the end of the day, which was actually the next day since it was so late it was early.

I trudged into my apartment just past 1 am, my third cup of coffee in my hand, my laptop case in the other. I looked at the coffee and sighed, and tossed my computer to the side.

I tossed out the coffee, I didn't need it anymore. I slipped off the jacket I was wearing and went to my room and threw off my normal work clothes and out on some flannel pajama bottoms and a long sleeve top to wear for the night.

I walked past my neatly empty bed and went back out to the living room and flopped onto the couch. I rested my head against some of the pillows and rested my hand on my forehead. I took several deep breathes and tried to get comfy. No use going to my bedroom. I didn't want to see the empty space there; reminding me there was no one in my life, no one to love me.

I smiled slightly at the thought. Yes, I was an FBI agent. I was tough and strong when it was needed, which was everyday for my job. But honestly and truthfully; I was a hopeless romantic. Note the hopeless part. I liked cheesy romance novels…secretly. I liked cheesy romantic comedies…secretly. I was a touch girl and a hopeless romantic. It's possible.

People just don't know that about me. The only people I see are the team. And that's not to many people.

The only other people who see me are the unsubs and the press. I really don't want the unsubs to know, nor do they need to. And the press could care less about 'who' I was. I didn't even 'know' the press. They weren't people to me. The press to me is a thing; like an object.

When I spoke to the press, I wasn't really speaking to them.

I was speaking to the people at home who were watching the news, the people who were worried and maybe even scared about what was happeneing. When I shared the profile of the unsub over the news, it was the people at home, not the press to whom I was speaking too.

It was a different way to think of things but it worked for me.

But that doesn't make up for the fact that I'm alone.

I sighed and rolled my eyes and did something I hadn't done in awhile.

I prayed.

Out loud. I spoke to the empty room of my empty house.

When I was a little girl I had been raised a Christian. I haven't been to church in years. My words spoken out loud were stuttered and slow and shy sounding.

"God…" I started out, feeling like a child. "Just, please, find me somebody to love…just give me somebody to…"

My cell phone went off.

I was so deep in thought I was startled and fell off the couch. My head hit the coffee table as I hit the floor hard. The cell phone kept ringing. I held my head n one hand and crawled to my jacket and picked up my phone and answered it, slightly annoyed and exasperated.

"Hi…" I said softly into the phone, massaging my forehead. I never answered saying 'hi' but I was tired and currently hurting.

"Ah…hey JJ." It was Reid. I sighed. Reid was a great guy, but not at the moment.

"What Reid?" I said, in a tired, slightly strained voice.

"You ok?" he asked in his kind, caring but shy voice.

"Ahh…yeah. I was just in the middle of something." I said trying to sound normal.

"What were you doing?" He said as if it was the most normal conversation.

"I was…nothing." I said softly. There was a pause on the other end of the line.

"Are you sure you're ok JJ?" he asked, his voice holding genuine concern.

"Yes Spence, I'm fine. Can I ask why you're calling?" I said as politely as I possible could. When he spoke his voice sounded slightly hurt when he spoke next.

"You seemed…off today. I wanted to make sure you were ok." I was 'off' today? I don't recall being off. Maybe I was, I don't know.

"Yeah Spence. I'm ok."

"Ok…well I'll talk to you later." And he hung up. I looked at my phone and shook my head. I turned my phone off and put it in my jacket pocket. I crawled back to my couch and went back to praying, I felt like I hadn't finished saying what I needed.

I went back to praying.

Back to praying for someone to find me someone to love.


AN: cheesy I know but we all know we love it right??? Lol.