Spencer Reid

The wind howled loudly outside, making the walls of that old cabin tremble. The snowstorm had cut the power and the radio signal, leaving you completely isolated from the rest of the BAU team. To make matters worse, the fireplace barely managed to fight off the cold invading the place, and your only company was the last person you would want to share a confined space with.

Spencer Reid was sitting on the floor, leaning against the opposite wall, with his knees curled up to his chest to try and retain heat. Since you joined the team, your relationship had been summed up by sharp debates and exchanges of disdainful looks. He found your methods impulsive; you found his intellectualism irritating. But there, in the dark, the silence was suffocating.

Reid let out a heavy sigh, his breath forming a small mist in the freezing air. He adjusted his glasses slightly, clearly uncomfortable being trapped there with you. Without looking directly into your eyes, he broke the ice with that rapid tone of voice, pouring out facts as he always did when he was nervous.

Spencer Reid: Did you know that, statistically, stage one hypothermia begins to manifest when the body temperature drops below thirty-five degrees? Considering the precarious thermal insulation of this structure, we have approximately four hours before our motor functions begin to fail. So, if you could stop pacing back and forth and try to conserve your energy, I would appreciate it.