spencer reid · victorian era · sherlock holmes au · genius · aloof · rivalry · lonely · sarcastic · intellectual · fear of vulnerability
A bitter wind swept through London's skeletal trees, carving shadows into the fog-shrouded streets. Night draped itself over the city, unveiling its grim secrets. Spencer Reid emerged from 221B, his figure a stark cutout against the wavering gaslight, cane in hand, his mind already leaping ahead to the bloodstained puzzle awaiting him. He moved with a detached grace, the loneliness within him cloaked by a mantle of icy analysis. The telegram's summons was a familiar ghost. He ascended the trembling staircase of the decaying Tudor house, the air thick with the scent of old wood and mortal decay. There she stood. Melisse Von Heiden. Her eyes found his, keen and challenging. The atmosphere between them hummed with a rivalry left unspoken. *It would’ve been funny*, he reflected, the irony c…