1. Spencer Reid Gambling Fictional
2. Spencer Reid Gambling Fico
3. Spencer Reid Gambling Fiction
4. Spencer Reid Poker Fanfic

Summary: spencer needs the reader. Warnings: angsty, sad, self depricating, self loathing, fluffy, friendship, complete chaos. Here was the thing about glass. Falls to the ground, tumbling until it can’t anymore. It crumbles into tiny little pieces, some that will never be found, others that cause nothing. Everyone on the plane looked at Reid. 'Reid, you made seventy six thousand dollar in a week by gambling,' Morgan said incredulously. I could have made more, but I was trying to stay under the radar.' 'I think he's referring to the fact that you nearly won a year's salary within a week,' Prentiss said. Spencer Reid Fanfiction. I lay on my back, I didn’t know how long I had been here. It could have been days, weeks, months. The man who had taken me had tied me a bed in a dark room with no windows. Every few hours he would allow me to use the bathroom and to eat a small amount of food. For a kidnapper, he was taking quite good.

Takes place in season 7, between 7x02 and 7x09.

The case was a bad one. Eight people had been killed so far. All had evidently been to a casino, judging by things found on the bodies (although all money had been taken). Given that it was in Las Vegas, a casino didn't really narrow it down either. Nevertheless, they had received security footage from the casinos. Face recognition software didn't get them anywhere, though. Either the victims had been in a casino without said software, or there was something else. They had spread photographs of the victims in the casinos that fell within the boundaries of Reid's geographical profile: nothing.

Spencer Reid sighed. He really didn't want to do this.

'Hotch?' Aaron Hotchner looked at Reid, giving him his full attention. 'Can we talk privately?'

Hotch frowned, but nodded and gestured for Reid to follow him out of the room.

'What is it?' Hotch asked somewhat concerned. Reid rarely suggested they talk privately.

Reid hesitated. 'I think the victims went to illegal casinos. And I'd like money and permission to do a sweep of them.'

Hotch's brows furrowed. 'Is there a large illegal gambling culture?' At Reid's nod, he continued. 'Why won't we just barge in?'

Reid nearly grinned. 'Because if you go to an illegal casino in Vegas without legal coverage, you're stupid.' At Hotch's confused look, Reid elaborated. 'This is Nevada. There are a lot of loopholes here in the laws concerning gambling. Just about everyone in the business knows those loopholes. You won't be able to threaten them with charges. They will either tell you exactly why you can't charge them, or they will exercise their right to remain silent. Because of said loopholes, you would need testimonial evidence to get charges, and by keeping quiet, they won't give you that. You can arrest all patrons of illegal casinos, but there are not enough cells in Nevada to hold all of them.'

Hotch gave Reid a surprised look. 'And you know where to find those casinos?'

Reid hesitated. 'I would be able to find out with minimal fuss.'

Recognizing the slight evasion, Hotch gave an acknowledging nod. 'There is no way I'm sending you in alone.'

Reid nodded. 'What's your plan, then?' Reid said it almost challenging, as if he didn't think Hotch would be able to come up with something better.

Hotch frowned again. 'What makes you so sure there is no better plan?'

Spencer Reid Gambling Fictional

Reid gave Hotch an assessing look. 'You need someone who is good at poker, who knows the protocol in those casinos, who can blend in and who is trusted.'

Hotch gave Reid a look. 'You are all of those things.' It wasn't a question, but it wasn't a statement either.

Reid gave Hotch a look as though willing Hotch to understand something. 'SAC Hotchner, why would you say that?'

Hotch nodded, recognizing the answer for the evasion it was, and noticing the emphasis Reid placed on his title.

'Will you be safe?' Hotch asked, clearly considering the option of sending Reid.

Reid nodded. 'Can we talk somewhere where I won't have to call you 'sir'?'

INSERT LINE

They ended up in a coffee house down the street.

'I started when I was ten, after my father left,' Reid spoke. 'I started with gambling on street corners and in café's, basically, and one man sort of helped me along – he pointed me to places with higher bets, things like that. I used it to help make ends meet. When I was twelve, I was introduced in the 'real' world, where bigger money was made.'

'Just how much are we talking about here?' Hotch asked Reid, wondering.

Reid shrugged. 'At the street corners, I didn't usually make more than fifty dollars for an evening. Café's would go up to two hundred dollars. And in the 'real' places, you can make up to ten thousand in tournaments if you're lucky. Two thousand on a usual night.'

Hotch's eyes widened. 'That much? And you weren't robbed or mobbed?'

Reid looked at Hotch incredulously. 'Have you ever been to the Stratosphere? You make a lot more money there. But the guy who introduced me, so to speak, arranged some sort of security detail for me.' Reid shrugged. 'I would give them a part of my winnings.'

Hotch's mouth didn't fall open, but it was a near thing. 'You were twelve!'

Reid glared at Hotch, now somewhat angry. 'Yes, we've already established that. How did you think I made ends meet when I was caring for my mother?'

'Yes, of course. My apologies,' Hotch composed himself.

Evidently accepting the apology, Reid continued. 'My plan is as follows: I dress in proper attire. I wear a wire so you don't worry too much. I want Dave on the other end of that wire, by the way.'

Hotch was surprised. 'Why Dave?'

Reid shrugged. 'Dave knows these circles. Remember Long Island? The case where a judge was hiring someone to kill wrongdoers? I'd prefer if you'd stay in the vicinity, because you have a knack for knowing when to take me seriously and when I'm trying to relay a coded message, but you don't have to.'

Hotch nodded. 'I shouldn't be surprised you picked up on that. What do you mean by proper attire?'

'Clothes,' Reid shrugged. 'I'm pretty lucky with my revolver, because entering an illegal place wearing a Glock is just screaming that you're a cop. That also goes for looking too innocent.'

Reid cast a bemused glance at Hotch. 'You've never really navigated those circles, have you?'

'No,' Hotch admitted. Sometimes they really forgot Reid grew up in Vegas.

'Alright. The wire should be microphone-only, because going in wearing an earpiece is plain stupid.' Reid thought for a moment. 'I do need to see every victim's toxscreen, by the way. Not all places allow alcohol.'

Hotch nodded. 'I'll make sure you have them. When do you want to do this?'

Reid was silent for a few seconds. 'Tomorrow night and every night after, I think. If you can get me what I need in time. That includes money.'

Hotch sighed. 'I'll find a way to justify poker chips to the budget oversight committee. How much do you need?'

Reid didn't hesitate. 'Six thousand cash. Improbable I'll need even half that, but it should be enough to lose spectacularly two nights in a row. Not that I plan on losing. But I might walk into a tournament, and you have to pay to enter those.'

'Strauss is going to have a fit.' Hotch concluded.

'Please manage to convince her you're only sending me in because I'm the best poker player, and not because I managed to break B-laws in Vegas before I reached my majority.'

'B-laws?' Hotch asked confused.

'Laws about booze, boobs and blackjack,' Reid shrugged. 'It refers to the lack of these laws in Vegas. B-laws is what Ginder always called them. Ginder was the guy who introduced me. Don't tell Strauss I am the one who told you where to find the casinos.'

Hotch sighed again. 'I don't like this.'

Reid smirked. 'I do!'

INSERT LINE

When Hotch walked to Dave and motioned for him to come, Dave wondered what was up. Hotch said something about a super-secret plan no one was to know about – well, he phrased it differently, but that was the spirit – and that had Dave intrigued. Even more so because, well.. Reid was in on it.

'Reid, you explain it to him.' Hotch looked weary.

'Okay, ' Reid nodded, apparently somewhat exited. 'I need your help in breaking B-laws, making money and catching killers. Interested?'

'Perfect way to spend the evening,' Dave quipped. 'What's going on?'

Hotch was a little dismayed to find that Dave did know what 'B-laws' were.

'I'm going to – investigate – some casino's that don't legally exist, and I need your help getting ready. And I need you on the other end of my wire once I'm there.' Reid spoke, a little more serious.

Dave's eyebrows rose. 'You're going to walk in there alone.'

Reid shrugged. 'I've been doing it since I was ten – well, twelve for the hard places – so that shouldn't be a problem. I think you'd best understand the protocol of meetings with old friends, though.'

Dave nodded. 'True.'

'I'm hoping to get six thousand cash, not that I plan on spending that much, but I want to have enough to lose spectacularly for two nights. If I save a thousand, I can always hit a regular casino during the day.'

'Just how good are you?' Hotch interrupted.

'I have to pay sixty thousand a year for Bennington,' Reid said. 'No way our paycheck covers that.'

'Sixty thousand?' Hotch's mouth fell open. 'I didn't know that.'

Reid gave a small smile. 'It's the best sanitarium in Nevada. So every year on my annual leave, I fly to Vegas, visit my mom, and hit the casinos. I can make more money with Blackjack than with poker, but there's no quicker way to get banned than to win at Blackjack, because then you're only losing the casino money, whereas with poker you're mostly robbing people.'

Dave gave a small grin. 'So, what do you need?' He was evidently enjoying this task.

INSERT LINE

'Where are Dave and Reid?' Morgan asked Hotch.

Hotch looked up from what he was doing and sighed wearily. 'Reid is going to the casinos and Dave is helping him to get ready.' At seeing their confused looks, Hotch elaborated. 'We're pretty sure they didn't go to legal casinos, so we're trying the illegal ones.'

'Just the two of them?' Prentiss asked. 'I can play poker.'

'Reid grew up in Vegas, and Dave on Rhode Island. Reid knows the people, Dave knows the culture. Prentiss, how often have you been to semi-legal or illegal casinos? I mean big money places, not the usual cafés.'

Prentiss considered that for a moment. 'What's considered big money?'

Hotch shrugged. 'My source says that in illegal places, you don't make more than two thousand an evening unless there is a tournament. Because they cater to a smaller group of people, people know each other's styles and are more likely to fold on a bad night. In a formal casino, you're always playing against new faces. Therefore two thousand is called big money. Reid asked me to get him six thousand, and I'm still negotiating with Strauss.'

Morgan raised his eyebrows. 'Seriously. Six thousand?'

Just as Hotch was about to answer, the door opened and Reid walked in.

'So, what do you think?' Reid asked a little nervously.

Prentiss stared at Reid. 'You look really different.'

'You're looking hard-ass!' Morgan fell in.

Reid shrugged. 'That's what we were going for, so it's alright, then.'

He then turned to Hotch. 'Can you justify another eight hundred dollars? Dave refused to pay attention to the price tags.'

Hotch stared at Dave. 'You can deal with Strauss,' he said.

'Seriously, what's going on?' Morgan asked.

'I went shopping to look a little less vulnerable, but still non-threatening.' Reid was silent for a moment. 'If you look threatening, you're not getting inside. If you look vulnerable, you're getting robbed or mobbed.'

It was silent for a few moments. Then Reid turned to Hotch. 'How much money can you get?'

Hotch sighed. 'Chief Strauss doesn't approve of this. She wants to know who my source is.'

Reid nodded. 'And if you only ask for, say, two thousand? If I start tonight in a formal establishment, I should have six by tomorrow. I would still like a wire for tomorrow, though. I don't usually go in by myself. And I want to avoid what happened with Bryar in Texas – Gideon decided it was taking too long so he sent in the HRT. That would have gone wrong if that minister hadn't shot Bryar.'

'You're going in by yourself? I thought Rossi was going with you,' Prentiss spoke.

'No, why should he do that?' Reid asked.

'Because there's no way you're going in alone!' Morgan replied vehemently.

Reid sighed. 'Morgan, I know those people. You don't. Even if I don't know the people, I do know the culture. Say, if they pin me to the wall, what would you do if you were there with me?'

'Pull them off you, of course,' Morgan said immediately. 'What do you mean, you know these people?'

Dave and Reid exchanged an amused glance. 'Then you'd be lucky if you get out severely beaten up, and not in a body bag,' Dave spoke. 'And Reid grew up in Vegas.'

'How do you think I paid the bills when I was ten?' Reid asked Morgan, then turned to Hotch. 'We've established a code, with words for 'I'm safe', 'Get me out', 'I'm leaving, pick me up' and case-concerning words.' Reid shrugged. 'Code is established both in words and in taps, because there's not usually much talking done. We also need another car, because if I'm seen being picked up by a black SUV, I'm never going to get into another place.'

Hotch nodded. 'Good job. I'll try if I can get you two thousand, at least. Do you have your stun gun?'

Reid nodded. 'Modified and all. Do you have the toxscreens? Then I can pick where to go.'

'So what's the plan, then?' Prentiss spoke. 'I mean, Reid is going in alone, but what will we do?'

'Reid?' Hotch spoke, evidently expecting Reid to give instructions.

'Hmm? Oh, Dave is on the other end of my wire, Hotch is in his vicinity of him.'

'Why both?' Morgan wondered.

Reid shrugged. 'Rossi knows the culture, and Hotch knows when I'm relaying a message.'

'What do you mean?' Prentiss asked.

Reid gave her a look. 'Remember Georgia? All of you thought I was out of my mind. Hotch checked the validity of both my claims –' Here Reid grinned slightly, no doubt referring to the claim that Hotch was a classic narcissist – 'and discovered I was telling you where I was.'

He went back to the toxscreen. 'If something goes wrong, Prentiss should enter, I think. Though that depends..'

Reid looked at Prentiss. 'How good are you with revolvers, or at least, non-Glocks?'

Prentiss shrugged. 'If necessary, I can use them.'

Reid nodded. 'Okay. No one wears a Glock, except for police and those who never use them. You don't want them to know you're law enforcement, and you don't want them to think it's just for show, either. So you need a revolver – a used one. Your holster should also be used. You don't want them to think it's the first time you're wearing a gun. But you shouldn't look too comfortable with it, either.'

Prentiss listened attentively. 'Okay.'

'I'm going to this place first, I think,' Reid pointed to the map. 'You should park here – just around the corner.' He pointed to another place. 'If something goes wrong, enter. Look confident, flirt a little, and don't pay much attention to me. Be the mean girl.'

Hotch spoke. 'Reid, Strauss has agreed to allow you two thousand dollar. If you lose all of it and the plan doesn't work, there will be an investigation.'

Reid nodded. 'And if I multiply the amount?'

Hotch looked thrown aback. 'Then you can help me with the paperwork.'

INSERT LINE

That night, Reid returned at one o'clock at the hotel – he had been playing poker and a few games of Blackjack in a legal casino. Dave was waiting for him.

'Well, how did it go?' He asked gruffly.

Reid shrugged. 'A lot better than expected. Do you think I can arrange with Strauss to give her back her two thousand dollars, and keep everything else?'

'Just how much did you win?' Dave asked a little more awake now.

Reid smiled. 'Not that much. And I managed to stay under the radar, so that's good enough. I only got free drinks, no suites or something.'

'You get suites as a comp?' Dave asked incredulously. 'How much did you win today exactly?'

Reid smiled. 'Constant refills of coffee – really good coffee – and a little over ten thousand dollar. Well, after the taxes cut their part, of course.'

'Ten thousand,' Dave repeated faintly.

Reid shrugged. 'Far from my best night. I'm going to get some rest.' He looked around and his eyes fell on the gun safe. 'That's one lucky thing about when the Bureau arranges hotels – there's always a safe for your money.' He smiled.

INSERT LINE

The first night went alright. True to what he said earlier, he only made about a thousand dollars. 'Staying under the radar,' Reid said.

The second night was a little better, with Reid making twelve hundred dollars. The third night, things went a little different. He made two thousand dollars.

'I ran into an old friend,' Reid shrugged. 'Hotch, I'm going out with him sometime this week.'

'Why?' Hotch frowned. 'We have a case.'

Reid frowned back. 'Hotch, I could have used a lot of money for a bribe. Now I just offered to go out with him, meaning he'll take most of my earnings. What would the Bureau prefer?'

'True,' Hotch acknowledged. 'But you're helping me with the paperwork.'

Reid gave a small smile. 'Meditative,' he said. 'It's also the reason I made two thousand today, actually. I had to prove I hadn't lost my touch. But he also knows I never make more than two thousand – staying under the radar, and all that.

Spencer Reid Gambling Fico

The next night, Dave went in with Reid. 'Your job is to stand behind me and look menacing. I've never been here before, but everyone here is rich and should have a criminal record. You're my bodyguard. Alright?'

And indeed, the place was creepy. Rossi noted Reid didn't investigate at all, he just tried to make friends, basically. He also made five thousand dollars.

Hotch raised an eyebrow when they were back. 'I thought you were staying under the radar,' he commented.

Dave snorted. 'In this place, this is 'under the radar'.'

Reid agreed. 'There was a lot of money going on there. You might want to drop the address to Metro PD and tell them to send SWAT there once all this is over. But I want to make some friends there first.'

They continued gambling for a few days, but now they usually it two places a night: before midnight they would go to one of the places where Reid had come as a teenager. Dave would be on the other side of the wire. Then, around midnight, Dave and Reid would enter that one place together – Dave standing behind Reid and looking menacing, Reid making money.

'I'm going out with Max early this evening,' Reid said. 'I'm going wired, just to be sure, but I'm going to pay my bribe, not to investigate.'

Hotch nodded. 'Okay. You're going with Dave, afterwards?'

'I am. I want the whole place under surveillance, starting this afternoon, but for no reason they should go in. I know something is going to happen – if not today, then tomorrow. And I wouldn't be surprised if Max knows it, too, and is trying to keep me away from that place. I want Dave nearby when I'm with Max, but he doesn't have to be in the room. Near the casino is good enough.'

They discussed details for a few moments before focusing on the case once more.

INSERT LINE

They were right – Max had tried to keep Reid the whole night, but was reasonably understanding when Reid said he was going to the other place anyway. He was a little less understanding when he was arrested, but Reid knew JJ would explain to Max that it was just to keep Max away from anything dangerous, basically. Reid just hoped he wouldn't lose a friend over this.

When Reid entered the illegal casino at midnight, it was more crowded than usual. They kept up their usual routine – Rossi looking menacing and Reid winning money. Around three, the atmosphere changed. Reid send Prentiss and Hotch a message. Reid had explicitly forbidden Prentiss from entering, because she'd need a bodyguard. When she protested, Reid had said quite adamantly that everyone who entered this place had a bodyguard, and that Reid was no different.

Morgan had volunteered, of course, but Reid had vetoed that. That was something Reid had insisted on before starting his assignment – veto power over every single thing. In essence, Hotch could veto the entire mission, but Reid could veto every tiny detail.

At three thirty, when the tension seemed to be about to reach a climax Rossi and Reid went for the restroom, with Rossi standing guard before the door. Reid assured Rossi this was normal and wouldn't attract attention.

At three thirty-five, just as they were leaving the restroom, there was a gunshot. That was MO – the victim would be shot in the foot first.

Rossi and Reid were in a perfect position to move to the entrance of the building, which they opened so SWAT could enter. After a brief shoot-out, in which Reid's shoulder was grazed but no one of the 'good guys' was seriously hurt or killed, they rounded up all of the patrons and saved the victim, who was also a patron.

'I really need a good night's sleep,' Reid yawned. 'But I probably should talk to Max first.'

'No doubt he'll appreciate your concern,' Rossi said dryly.

As it turned out, Max did understand why Reid had arrested him. It might have helped that it was written all over Reid's face that he was feeling guilty about the whole debacle.

'But you caught 'em?' Max asked finally.

'We did,' Reid said tiredly. 'Rounded up the whole place, actually. Most of them are probably wanted criminals anyway.'

'You got that right,' Max snorted. 'So, can I go?'

Reid nodded. 'Of course. Here,' he handed Max his business card. 'If you ever need someone to bail you out..' he said with a small grin.

Max smiled. 'Good luck, kiddo.'

'Thanks for everything, Max,' Reid said with a smile.

INSERT LINE

'Reid? We have to report to Strauss as soon as we get back.' Hotch looked truly apprehensive.

Reid closed his eyes in resignation. 'Is she going to fire me because I tripled the Bureau's budget?'

'How much did you win, actually?' JJ asked. 'I mean, you didn't win that much, did you?'

Reid did the mental math. 'Uh.. I won a little over seventy six thousand dollars excluding what I won for Max. Hotch, can you please smooth that over with the IRS?'

Hotch actually blinked. 'Shit,' he cursed softly. 'I hadn't thought of that.'

Everyone on the plane looked at Reid. 'Reid, you made seventy six thousand dollar in a week by gambling,' Morgan said incredulously.

Reid shrugged. 'I suppose. I could have made more, but I was trying to stay under the radar.'

'I think he's referring to the fact that you nearly won a year's salary within a week,' Prentiss said.

Reid blinked. 'I did, didn't I?'

'What the hell are you doing working for a government office?' Morgan asked. 'You could be a millionaire!'

Reid looked guilty. Hotch decided to interfere. 'Let's not interrogate Reid on his job choices,' he said. 'Reid, have you finished your reports? Strauss might appreciate that.'

Reid nodded. 'Almost,' he said. 'What does Strauss want, exactly?'

Hotch and Reid were soon talking about strategies on how to proceed with Strauss. The team stopped trying to listen and engaged in their own conversations.

As Hotch and Reid were finished discussing Strauss, Hotch could see there was still something Reid wanted to say. 'Thanks for interfering,' he said.

Hotch shrugged. 'Your life is your life, although I do admit I was curious as to what your answer would be.'

Reid gave a small smile. 'You haven't done the math, have you?'

Hotch looked questioningly at Reid. 'What do you mean?'

'Nothing,' Reid said innocently. Hotch vowed to find out what, exactly, Reid was hiding.

INSERT LINE

'So. Dr. Reid, how much money did you lose the Bureau?'

'None, ma'am,' Reid said truthfully.

'How much money did you win the Bureau, then?' Strauss didn't like this, that was apparent.

'Seventy six thousand four hundred twenty four, ma'am,' Reid replied – again, truthfully.

'Excuse me, Dr. Reid? This is not the time for jokes.'

Reid opened a briefcase he had next to him. 'It's all in here, ma'am.'

'You're expecting me to believe that you won a year's salary in a week?'

'Yes, ma'am,' Reid said, now amused.

'Dr. Reid, if this is true, then why don't you have more money?'

'I have quite a bit of money, ma'am, but most of it is in trust funds,' Reid replied.

Strauss raised an eyebrow, apparently she wanted to know how much. Hotch was amused – he stood to the side, ignored by both parties.

'How much money do you have, Dr. Reid?'

'Liquid, stocks or real estate?' Reid asked seriously.

Spencer Reid Gambling Fiction

Hotch was shocked. Real estate?

'Liquid,' Strauss said somewhat annoyed.

'About five point six million, three of which is in a trust fund for my mother's care.'

Hotch nearly toppled over. Reid was a multi-millionaire?

Strauss was actually speechless and quickly sat down. 'Dr. Reid. You have five point six million dollar in liquid money?'

'Yes, ma'am,' Reid replied sincerely.

'And where is the rest of that money?' Curiosity won over, apparently.

Reid wrote something on a slip of paper and handed it to Strauss. Hotch was immensely curious what was on it, but couldn't see it. Strauss read the slip of paper and looked at Hotch, amused, then turned to Reid again. 'Good job, Agent Reid,' she said. 'Agent Hotchner, I assume you will smooth this over with the IRS and you will complete all additional paperwork.'

'Yes, ma'am,' Hotch said, wondering what had turned Strauss' mood. 'Dr. Reid has kindly offered his assistance, so it should be completed within a day or so.'

'Good,' Strauss said, still amused. 'Good luck, Agent,' she said to Reid specifically.

Bewildered, Hotch left the office, Reid following in his wake.

'What was that about?' Hotch asked Reid once they were in Hotch's office. 'You wrote something on a scrap of paper and we're out in thirty seconds.'

Reid sighed. 'I wrote something down because I didn't want you to know about it.'

'Reid,' Hotch said with a warning clear in his voice.

'No, Hotch,' Reid held firm. 'I will tell you some day, and that day is not now.'

'Okay,' Hotch sighed. 'Help me with this pile of paperwork, then.'

INSERT LINE

Strauss looked down at the piece of paper Reid had handed her. A small smile curved her lips. She had always liked Dr. Reid – they got along reasonably well – and this was just brilliant.

The piece of paper said: Hotch doesn't know about the college fund I set up for his son. I'd like to keep it that way – I have no doubt I'm in for a lecture once he finds out. Also, Elle Greenaway was mysteriously served with the deeds of a house after she resigned. I'm glad she liked the furniture I picked out.

Yes, she got along well with Dr. Reid. Both had a similar style of humor and really.. this was just too good.

She smiled as she burned the paper. She would keep another of Reid's secrets, just as he kept hers. Because she was well aware who was dropping her the anonymous notes, urging her to seek help for her addiction.

Spencer Reid Poker Fanfic

Perhaps she would.