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It was never, ever a good thing when Penelope Garcia was loitering around the bullpen, the rest of the BAU packed in around her like a football huddle, muttering to one another like they were planning something mischievous.
It was even worse when Penelope turned to brandish her laptop like a weapon, a wildly amused smile on her face, when he walked into the bullpen.
“Um, hi?” Spencer quirked his head to one side in confusion as Derek and Emily started sniggering from behind their hands. “What’s so funny?”
Emily and Derek broke out into gut-busting laughter, and JJ rolled her eyes and sent one sharp elbow flying into Emily’s ribs as Penelope sidled up to the genius.
“We’ve discovered that you’ve been holding out on us, pretty boy!” Derek called, which sent Emily into another round of snickers, though she immediately clapped her hand over her mouth when JJ sent her a warning glance.
“So, in my world wide web deep-diving, I’ve come upon a series,” Penelope grinned wolfishly as an image of a younger Spencer, with his shirt mostly undone, leaning up against a wall, a curling strand of print proudly displayed across one hip. “Of very interesting photographs.”
“I modeled when I was younger,” Spencer shrugged, rubbing one cheek against his cardigan in embarrassment. “For a friend, in grad school.”
“Why didn’t you tell us you had tattoos!” Penelope scowled good-naturedly as she flicked to another photograph, this one with Spencer bracing bare forearms against his knees, the sleeves rolled up to reveal the tail end of another tattoo.
“I thought you knew! I gave both you and Emily tattoo parlor suggestions when you wanted one!” Spencer protested. “Remember? Emily wanted the blackbird, and you were going to get—”
“That’s enough!” Penelope interrupted, her face pinking around the cheekbones. “Show us!”
“Sh-show you?” Spencer stuttered, and he crossed his arms firmly around his stomach. “This is the middle of the bullpen!”
“We can fix that,” Emily chuckled and dashed up to the conference room, drawing the blinds shut before peeking a pleased face out from around the corner.
Spencer groaned and dropped his head in his hands as Penelope and Derek cajoled him into walking up the stairs to his doom.
JJ had even pulled Hotch into the conference room at the last second, a smirk plastered to her face.
“I thought you were on my side!” Spencer growled and JJ just laughed as Derek motioned for the young man to get on with it.
“C’mon! I bet he’s got some nerdy ones,” Derek leaned over toward Emily, who passed him a five-dollar bill.
“I bet he’s got one for his mom,” Emily replied.
“You all suck,” Spencer hissed and untucked his button-down shirt from his pants to display the curling loops of the DNA strand across his hipbone. At the hoots and hollers of his teammates, he stuck out his tongue and turned to slip the shirt off narrow shoulders, allowing the team to see a twisting ace of hearts card across one shoulder blade and an anatomic drawing of a butterfly across the other shoulder.
“Wow,” Penelope whispered, standing to carefully ghost her fingers over the tattoo when the man nodded. “A butterfly?”
“For JJ,” Spencer responded, guarded. “I have more.”
When Spencer turned back around, his shirt gripped in one white-knuckled hand, the team could see significantly more tattoos than they’d ever guessed to be inked onto the genius’s skin.
A collection of tally marks across his heart, a black cat curled around one bicep above a small sprig of sage, while the other sported a hydrangea flower and a small oak leaf, and dancing across his collarbones were a small lion and accompanying magpie. Last of all, tucked into the crook of his left elbow were a collection of tiny stars.
“Tell us about them?” Emily requested, her voice soft as she braced her elbows on her knees.
“Sure!” Spencer quirked a smile, though it didn’t quite meet his eyes as he trailed his fingers over the ink. “The black cat is for Emily. I got it after-after her funeral. The sage was my first tattoo. It was a stick and poke that my college roommate, Ethan, gave me. I picked it because sage means ‘wisdom,’ and I figured I could use some of that. The oak leaf is for strength. I got it after I got my letter of acceptance into the bureau.
“The DNA strand is for my mom, you’re right,” Spencer flashed a smile at Emily, who looked halfway between ashamed and crestfallen. Spencer continued though, his fingers tracing the outline of the lion and magpie. “A lion for Derek, a magpie for Penelope. The butterfly on my shoulder for JJ. The ace of hearts because that was the card that-that allowed me to win my first legal game of Poker with a straight royal flush.”
“And the flower?” JJ asked softly, after she cleared her throat, her eyes suspiciously damp.
“A hydrangea,” Spencer hummed, a smile curling his lips as he traced that one as well. “‘Thank you for understanding.’”
“After Hankel?” Derek asked, his dark eyes piercing where they met Spencer’s. He blushed, splaying long fingers over the flower as if he were trying to guard it.
“After Hankel,” Spencer agreed, nodding as he shrugged his shirt back on. Derek’s head whirled to look at Hotch, who merely smiled, looking unaffected.
“‘I knew you’d understand,’” Hotch quoted with a warm smile.
“Yes,” Spencer hummed as he rocked back and forth on his heels.
“You knew?” Penelope complained loudly at Hotch’s nonplussed expression. Their boss merely shrugged.
“I went with him to get a few of them,” Hotch coughed, his cheeks pinking slightly.
“Dammit, Aaron, you couldn’t have waited a week?” Rossi complained loudly, leaning against the doorframe. The entire team jumped, and Hotch merely chuckled into one curled fist.
That’s the day that JJ went home with a pocket full of twenties, a pleased smile on her face, and the rest of the team complained about their empty wallets, the awe at Spencer’s thoughtful tattoos, and how in the hell did Hotch and Reid keep it on the down-low for three years?
Spencer was just pleased that he distracted them long enough so he didn’t have to show them tattoos anywhere else. He had a rook on his thigh he really wasn’t looking forward to being cajoled into showing.