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It was busy at the Library. Much busier than I’d expected… Just my luck that it was almost finals week… I hadn’t even thought about that before I headed to the library. I hadn’t needed to think about school for years, and I was glad about that. But it was my day off, and I just wanted to do some research for my book… Well, I kind of had to do research.
I liked accuracy. I needed my stories to be accurate, or else I couldn’t write. They say write what you know, but it is also important to know what you write.
Of course, growing up with shows like E.R. and Chicago Hope had made me a stickler for Medical Accuracy… More E.R. than Chicago Hope… Okay, I just watched Chicago hope for that one hot doctor. But still, E.R. was pretty good at being accurate.
Growing up reading Michael Crichton’s novels made me a stickler for accuracy in everything else. Even though some of his ideas turned out to be proven wrong, like Compys being venomous… But that could have had something to do with the other animal DNA that had been spliced with the Compys… Still, most of what he wrote stood the test of time. And it was all meticulously researched.
Growing up with those, I couldn’t bring myself to not research what I was going to write. Which was why I gathered up a handful of books. Two on Maui, one on writing medical stuff, two on the lifestyle of the rich and famous, and one on contract law. At least I already knew quite a bit about painting. It was one of my favorite pastimes.
By the time I had collected all my books, there was only one table left. A round table meant for four, without access to an outlet. But that was alright… I had my padfolio, and my phone was fully charged.
Setting the books on the table, I sat down, and started getting ready for my research. My purse and tote bag went on one of the chairs, as I pulled out my padfolio, and my water bottle that was absolutely covered in stickers. Next, I took out my bluetooth earbuds, and connected them to my phone. Starting up my moody writing playlist. The one with Dark Academia piano music, and the sound of rain. The music started to play in my ears, as I set up a piece of paper and pen, and opened the top book from my pile.
A travel guide to Maui. It wasn’t the most important research, but I wanted a good working knowledge of the island where my characters were going on their honeymoon. I wanted to start with the easier research. Reading contract law was like gibberish to me, at least I could easily understand the travel guide… Still, I was going to have to craft a realistic enough contract for my characters. It was the thing the entire story was based on, after all. The inciting incident.
I was halfway through my travel guide, when the scent of coffee, cedarwood, and petricor caught my attention. For a second, I thought that my brain was misfiring… The scent worked well with my playlist. Almost transporting me into a fantasy forest… But I knew I was still in the library. I looked up, to see where the scent of cologne was coming from. There was a man, about my age, standing there. He wore a black wool long coat, and a purple scarf.
“Pardon me,” he mouthed, and I was sure he was talking, but I couldn’t hear him.
I held my hand up, and he stopped talking, looking confused. Tapping the side of my earbuds, I paused my music, before taking one earbud out.
“Sorry,” I said, setting the earbud back in its case. “I was listening to something. What were you saying?”
“I was wondering if I could sit here, with you,” he said, slightly lifting up his large pile of books. “All the other tables were full…”
“Of course,” I said, with a smile. Gesturing to one of the chairs across from me. He had at least two dozen books with him, he could definitely use a space to sit.
“Thank you,” he said, setting the books down. He sat down in the chair I’d gestured to, and grabbed the top book from his pile.
Putting my earbud back in, I tapped the side of it to start my playlist up again. I wrote down everything I’d learned from the travel guide, place names, restaurants, before going back to reading my book. I wanted to make sure I remembered everything. As I continued through it, I added little notes about something or other. Putting exclamation points around things I definitely wanted my characters to do. And even sketched out a few ideas that the book gave me. It helped me flesh out the timeline of my character’s honeymoon.
It would have been easier if I had just been to Maui before. To see the sights, and do the things… But, like my character, I hated plane rides.
My character had always wanted to go to Maui, she loved it so much. She had always dreamed about going there, so she could paint it… She didn’t go there until her honeymoon.
Maui wasn’t my dream, but New York was. I’d love to sit in Central park and write, or see a Broadway show, and go to the Met and MoMA… My character loved New York as well… That one might be a little more likely for me to visit myself. After all, it was only a three hour train ride.
When I was done with my book, I looked over and noticed the man had a completely different book in his hand, and a pile of five books on his left side. As I was watching, he finished his current book, and put it onto the smaller pile.
I tried to get back to my reading, grabbing one of the books about the lifestyles of the rich and famous, but I couldn’t focus on it. I was too distracted by the attractive man sitting across from me. He was probably a college professor, or maybe a P.H.D. student… A P.H.D. student who’d been able to speed read six books in half an hour.
Maybe he’d have some insight… Maybe I could pick his brain about a few things. I’d tried to ask some of my friends, I wanted to get other people’s perspectives on my books, but… Most of my friends weren’t readers. And none of my guy friends were interested in answering questions about Romance Novels.
There was only one time I’d read something I’d written to a guy. I read a scene from my current WIP to my roommate, and her now ex boyfriend. The scene I’d written where my main character, and the romantic interest, were coming up with the lie to tell everyone about their relationship. They were doing it so they could make people believe it was more than just a contract marriage. When I’d finished reading the scene, Lexy’s ex, Arthur, laughed. Legitimately laughed.
“Sounds like two girls talking,” he’d said, with a snort. “No guy is going to talk with a chick for that long… Like, seriously, if you want it to be realistic, have him bring up his favorite sports team. Or do something interesting, like play in the fountain. No guy is going to talk like that…”
“Well, he’s talking like that because…” I’d started to reply, when he cut me off.
“Because he acts like a girl. You don’t know how guys actually think,” he’d continued. “And you said this chick has never been kissed before, that’s so unrealistic. There must have been a time at one of the parties when all the girlfriends got together, and practiced kissing.”
I’d almost heaved at that. It was… He was gross… But still… Maybe I was being unrealistic… I didn’t really know what it was like to be in a relationship, so I wasn’t sure how accurate the conversation was. Would a guy really be willing to talk through the lie like that, so they’d get it straight? How would he talk to her, if he was already in love with her… Would he do any of it? I… I didn’t know…
Pausing my playlist, I took out both my earbuds, setting them back in the case. I felt bad about disturbing the buy, but… I wanted a guy’s perspective. Wanted to know that I wasn’t deluding myself into believing my characters could behave like that.
“Excuse me,” I said, nervously. It was weird to ask a stranger, but… I didn’t really have anyone else I could ask.
He looked up immediately, his hand pausing on the book he’d been skimming.
“I… uh… I was wondering…” I said, feeling awkward. “If I could ask you something…”
He looked at me with an interested look, one that said go ahead. He had a specific set of his shoulders that made me think he was expecting a question… A very specific question. But I didn’t know what it was.
“So… Well…” I said, hoping I’d be able to word it correctly. But my anxiety was getting in the way. Why was I suddenly talking to a complete stranger about this? “If you were coming up with a backstory to sell a fake dating story to your family, and you’re in love with the woman you’re fake dating… would you play in a fountain?”
When the words were out of my mouth, I felt stupid. Immediately so. That wasn’t what I’d meant to ask… But the question was out there.
The man’s face was very expressive, shifting from confusion, to surprise, then settling on amusement.
“What?” he asked, maybe to make sure he’d heard me correctly. Or maybe he could tell it wasn’t the question I’d meant to ask.
I had to explain it… Because what I’d asked wasn’t what I really meant. It wasn’t the real question I had… I definitely needed to explain the story enough for him to understand.
“So, I’m a writer, and I’m working on this story…” I began, gesturing as I spoke. I did that a lot… My friends always teased me about my ‘T-rex’ arms. “And the characters are arranging a contract marriage for themselves, because his father will disinherit him if he doesn’t get married within a year. He’s been in love with her for years, but she’s always held herself aloof. She judges him for being a playboy when he was younger. But now she has her own reason to get married, though she doesn’t actually want a husband. Well, the problem is, to get him his inheritance, and keep her family from trying to set her up with some guy or another, they have to convince everyone that they are actually in love, and are married for real. So, they’re coming up with the story of their ‘relationship’, and why they’d kept it secret for so long. When I read the scene to my roommate, and her then boyfriend… Well, he said it was unrealistic… That the guy would talk about sports, or play in a fountain, and… I really need a guy’s point of view on this. If I had literally anyone else to ask… But I don’t. And you seem nice. Like a decent human being, unlike my roommate’s ex. And I wanted to ask… Would you? If… I’m not sure I’m making much sense. Sorry…”
“It’s alright,” he responded, with a smile. “My answer is no. I would not play in a fountain. Do you know the amount of bacteria growing in fountains? I also wouldn’t know when it’d last been cleaned. There are so many germs, let alone bird excrement, and other…” He stopped himself. He’d been talking with his hands, like I’d done… It was nice to know I wasn’t the only one who did so. “No, I would not play in a fountain. But, to answer your real question: If I was with a woman I loved, my focus would be on her, and our conversation. It sounds like our conversation would also be very important for my future as well as hers. I am not a fan of sports, but I think even if the man had a favorite sports team, it would be the same. He would be paying attention to her, not thinking of a sports team, or playing around in fountains.”
His eyes were so honest, so sincere, when he said it. I wished, for a moment, I could take a picture. So I could remember it forever in my mind… instead, I took a mental picture, trying to figure out how to describe it for my character.
That intensity. The kindness in his words. That sort of questioning look, like he didn’t understand why I would believe someone would do anything different… Like he could not believe someone would ever do otherwise.
“Can I… can I write that answer down… would you mind?” I asked, feeling my cheeks flush slightly. I was glad, for once, that I was wearing makeup that day. He wouldn’t be able to see the blush that I knew was there…
“I don’t mind at all,” he replied.
I quickly wrote down everything he said, including the bacteria thing, describing how he looked at the moment. When I felt his eyes on me, I flushed even more… So much so that I could feel the heat of it.
“Thank you,” I said, not looking up.
“You’re welcome,” he replied, and I could hear a smile in his voice. “Is there anything else you’d like to know?”
I looked up then, and he was still watching me. Like he could tell that I didn’t want to lose the connection so soon. The man seemed so nice, like just the kind of guy I wanted my book characters to be like… He seemed like a guy right out of a romance novel… Maybe, somehow, he was.
“Well, if you want to go back to your books, you don’t really have to answer me, but…” I said, nervously. “Though, seriously, if you want me to shut up, or go away, I will. I shouldn’t be bothering you… but you asked so…”
“It’s alright, you’re not bothering me,” he said, kindly. With a secret sort of smile. “I was the one to ask if you had any more questions.”
“That’s true…” I said, relieved that I wasn’t annoying him. “Do you think it’s weird that my twenty six year old society lady hasn’t been in a relationship before? Or has never been kissed?”
I hoped he would contradict what Arthur had said. Because that part of the character was based on myself. It was something I didn’t talk to a lot of people about… It was that kind of embarrassment that came from never being the one asked out, or liked. Some of my friends, the ones that’d known me for a decade or more, knew. But most people didn’t. I would have never told Lexy, and definitely not Arthur.
“No,” the man across from me answered. “Is that something else your roommate’s boyfriend said?”
“Yes,” I answered. “He said… Well, I don’t need to bring that up. But he thought it was ridiculous…”
“Not everyone is like him,” he assured me. “Everyone does things at their own time. Not everyone dates when they’re young.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, with a smile. “Now, for a long shot, because honestly I can’t stand reading law manuals… Do you happen to know anything about contract law?”
“I do,” he answered, once more amused.
“Cool, cause I can’t seem to focus on reading books about law,” I told him. “So, my characters have a contract marriage. The guy brings the contract with him, when he meets up with the girl at this party. He takes her out into the garden, to be alone, and asks her to be his contract wife. She signs the contract there, just the two of them.”
“That wouldn’t be legally binding then,” he said, immediately.
“It wouldn’t?” I asked, writing it down.
“To be legally binding, they would both need to sign it in front of a notary.”
“He definitely would know that… Could he word it in such a way that it would sound like a prenup?”
“That’s a possibility. What do you want the contract to cover?”
“I want it to keep them from talking about the fact that it’s a contract marriage…. Like, they need to keep quiet cause it might be a scandal if they don’t. And, basically, I want him to promise to take care of her if they get divorced… Even though she’s rich on her own.”
“In that case, it could be done in the form of a prenup. NDAs are not the most common, but they can happen if the couple is rich and have a reputation to uphold. And, as for providing for her, alimony agreements are what a lot of prenups are for.”
“And no one would think it was odd that people who were, by all appearances, very much in love, would want to sign a prenup?”
“It depends on their social standing, but I doubt it.”
“They are rich, and have a high social standing. He’s set to inherit a multimillion dollar company. And while she’s not set to inherit anything, she has made her own fortune, and is from a famous family.”
“Then no, no one would think it was odd.”
“Thank you so much!” I said, smiling at him. “You just saved me hours of agony trying to decipher this book.” I gestured to the book on the bottom of the pile.
“I’m glad to have helped,” he smiled.
“You really don’t know how much you have helped,” I said. “Seriously, I am so lucky that you came up to my table… And that you don’t mind answering my weird questions.”
“Do you have any other questions for me?”
“Well, I’m not that well versed in medical stuff, and this guy has his medical degree… Well, he has a medical degree and a business degree… He’s only twenty seven…” I realized now that it might be slightly unrealistic. The character would probably have to be a genius to be able to do that. “Is that… Could that happen?”
The guy smiled at me, like he was in on some sort of joke that I didn’t understand. If he wasn’t so nice, I’d almost think he was laughing at me. But the way he was paying attention to me, answering my questions, and not treating me like I was a total weirdo… He was kind… Still, I wished I was in on the joke.
“Most Definitely,” he replied, with a chuckle. “That’s actually the average age of most medical school graduates.”
“Great, cause I was planning on having him be a doctor, so that when his wife isn’t feeling well, he can take care of her.”
Honestly, having this guy to talk to was a dream come true. While he could be lying, he sounded pretty honest. And there was that look in his eyes…
“What will her illness be?” he asked, as if invested in my story.
“I was considering the flu,” I answered. “Or maybe I could make her sleep deprived… To drive forward the story. Cause I know that when I’m tired, like really tired, I say things I don’t intend to say. And maybe, if she’s sleep deprived, she’ll tell him that she’s in love with him,without meaning to. It’s also not a commonly used trope, so it’ll be brand new for people… He could still take care of her if she’s just sleep deprived, right?”
“Of course,” he told me. “And, sleep deprivation can have a host of interesting side effects.”
“Ooohh, like?”
“Well, after 24 hours without sleep, a person will have a cognitive impairment comparable to a blood alcohol content of 0.10%. They’d also have impaired hearing, judgement, and be more emotional. At 36 hours, her emotions will be all over the place, and she will have an inability to recall faces. She will also have a hard time remembering words and using visual memory. At 48 hours, or two days without sleep, the immune system will be impaired, and her body will begin shutting down for microsleeps. Finally, at 72 hours, the person will begin to hallucinate, all their senses will be impaired, and they will experience tremors.”
“Have… Have you tested this out for yourself?” I asked, shocked at how much he seemed to know about… well, everything.
“No, I read a study on sleep deprivation in US soldiers.”
“Ah, okay. Cause that doesn’t sound like a fun thing to test out for yourself…”
“The most I’ve gone without sleeping is the forty hour mark, and that’s usually for work. Regularly, though, I engage in polyphasic sleep. Taking short naps throughout the day to keep my brain sharp.”
“Good thing you don’t regularly keep from sleeping. According to what you said, you think better when you’re well rested… I need to remember that when I get into my writing moods.”
“Indeed…”
His phone rang, and he pulled it out of his pocket, answering it quietly.
“Reid,” he whispered into the phone. “I see. I can be there in an hour. My go bag is already in the car. Washington State? See you there.”
Each sentence he said had been clipped, followed by waiting to hear what the person on the other end of the phone had said. He hung up, and started gathering his books.
“It’s been a pleasure talking to you,” he said, looking at me with honesty in his brown eyes.
I chose to believe that he meant what he said, even though I’d been weird, and had asked him the most random collection of questions… I’d interrupted his reading day, and taken up his time… Maybe he was just a really good liar… Like, scary good.
“The pleasure is all mine,” I replied, meaning it.
“Maybe we can do this again sometime?” he said, and I looked up at him shocked. “Unless… Unless you don’t want to. Did I read the situation wrong?”
“Uh… No, actually, that would be amazing,” I replied, stammering. I hadn’t expected… I’d been so weird, why would he want to meet with me again? “I… I just thought… Nevermind. I’m Penny, by the way. If we’re going to meet up again sometime, you should probably know my name. I think I heard that your name is Reid?”
“Yes,” he replied. “Doctor Spencer Reid.”
“A doctor, huh? I would have pegged you as more of the academic type,” I said, smiling. “But I guess it’s fitting I asked you about my character, since he’s a doctor too.”
He was nice, really nice, and had a nice name… The absolute perfect person to have asked all that stuff to… I was glad to have met him.
“They’re P.H.D.s, three of them,” he replied, almost automatically.
“Wow… How old are you? Cause I thought you were around my age.”
“Thirty. What about you, how old are you?”
“Only Twenty Six.”
“Like your character?”
“Exactly. You must be a genius to get three P.H.D.s before you were thirty…”
“I’ve actually had them since I was twenty two.”
“Wow…” I was slightly stunned. He really must be a genius. “Can… Can I ask you one more question before you go?”
I wanted to be able to prepare questions to ask him for the next time we met up… So I wouldn't just ask such a weird assortment. And some of the things I hoped he could tell me about…
“Go on?” he said, when I was silent.
“Do you happen to know anything about poison?” I asked.
He looked at me with an almost blank expression, and I realized that I once again needed to explain more… Of course I did. I had just asked him about poison, after all.
“I have a character who is a princess, and her brother poisons her to try and take her throne… And so I need to know what kind of poison he would use… I would look it up for myself, but since you seem to know everything… And I really don’t want to be put on some FBI watchlist because of it. I mean, I might already be on one, given all the weird things I google for my stories… Still, I really don’t want the FBI to think I’m a serial killer or anything…”
He laughed at that… Well, a chuckle, that turned into a laugh, as he pulled out his wallet. He handed me a card from it, and saw the reason why he was laughing. Finally in on the joke.
“Oh… Okay…” I stammered. This was awkward. “I… Am I… Okay… I didn’t mean… Am I on some FBI watchlist? Is that why you were here? Were you watching me? Cause I promise I’m not a serial killer. And that time I looked up how much blood you can lose before passing out, I wasn’t planning on torturing anyone… Well, anyone who wasn’t fictional…”
“You’re not on any watch list that I know of,” he said, kindly. To stop me from freaking out farther. “I just happened to be here, and needed a seat. And, as for the poison, I can help you figure out which one your character can use. We’ll just need to set up another time to meet. Since you have my card, you can call me. I will be out of town for a while, I don’t know when I’ll be back… So we can arrange our next meeting after that?”
“I overheard. Washington?”
“Yes.”
“Would it be better for me to text, rather than call?”
“I don’t do much texting. So calling would be better… Though… If you could text me when you want to talk, and I will call you if I can? Because of the time differences and what my work entails… Otherwise I can just text…”
“That works for me.”
“Again, it was a pleasure to meet you,” he said, gathering all his books, and starting to walk to the front desk.
“And Again, the pleasure was all mine,” I replied, as he walked away.
Spencer had been annoyed when the library had been packed. After the case in California, he just wanted to sit down, and read for a while. He liked the atmosphere of the library. And he’d have access to a bunch of books that he didn’t have at home. He loved libraries. He just didn’t love when they were busy.
Still, he gathered his books. Far too many to check out. Which was why he needed to find a seat… Almost every table was full. He finally found one with an empty seat, in the corner, with a pretty redhead who was reading a travel guide to Maui.
Of course, he felt awkward going up to the young woman, and asking if he could sit with her. She seemed okay to have him there, and he was grateful. Except… It was harder to focus on his books, with a beautiful woman sitting right across from him. He was only able to read a few books, before he felt her eyes upon him. Once he felt it, he couldn’t focus at all. He tried to finish his book, he knew what the words were, but they just… didn’t make sense.
She’d gotten his attention, and asked if she could ask him a question. He thought she was going to ask him if he really could read that fast, but she didn’t. She asked him some questions about playing in a fountain. When he’d gotten the real question out of her, he’d answered it. Assuring her of the truth, that not all guys were shallow and immature. She seemed so interested in what he had to say, not even stopping him from his rant about the germs and bacteria in fountains… Her pretty blue eyes focused on him alone.
When he’d finished answering her question, he couldn’t bear for the interaction to end. He wanted a reason to keep talking to her… But he didn’t want to make it weird. So he asked if she had any other questions for him.
She seemed flustered, and awkward, and absolutely adorable… And the more she talked, the more he wanted to talk to her. Especially to teach her that not all men were like her roommate’s horrible boyfriend. She seemed to be fine talking with him more, asking him more questions, so he was happy.
The questions she asked were easy for him, but they seemed like such a help to her. He got to see her smile, more than once. And he decided he really liked seeing her smile.
She seemed to think she was the lucky one, because they met. But even though he didn’t believe in luck, he was a man of science after all, he would have to say he was the lucky one, not her.
When she’d asked if someone could have a medical degree and business degree at twenty seven, he’d almost laughed. After all, he’d gotten three P.H.D.s before he was twenty two. Twenty seven wasn’t even a stretch for the character to have completed medical school. And he needed to have a degree before going to medical school, a business degree was just as likely as any other.
She let him ramble. She even seemed to be paying attention, listening raptly as he answered her questions. When he’d finished on another rant about sleep deprivation, and she seemed concerned for him, he’d just about asked her out then and there. But that was going a bit too fast… Instead, he decided he was going to ask her a few questions, to get to know her better. That was, until he got a phone call.
A new case, in Washington. Urgent enough that they were meeting on the plane… On a saturday… Right after getting back from California. He wished he could stay there, talking to her… But they had an unsub to catch. And that just might mean that the young lady in front of him would slip right through his fingers…
“It’s been a pleasure talking to you,” he said, wishing he didn’t have to leave. That it didn’t have to be it.
“The pleasure is all mine,” she replied, with a look of sincerity in her eyes that made him believe that he might have a chance…
“Maybe we can do this again sometime?” he asked, hoping for a yes. Hoping she was just as interested in him as he was in her… But then she looked shocked. Maybe he’d been wrong… “Unless… Unless you don’t want to. Did I read the situation wrong?”
“Uh… No, actually, that would be amazing,” she had replied, looking completely off guard. He could see just the hint of a blush covering her nose and cheeks. “I… I just thought… Nevermind. I’m Penny, by the way. If we’re going to meet up again sometime, you should probably know my name. I think I heard that your name is Reid?”
Penny. Probably short for Penelope. A fitting name… Though it made him think of Garcia. In some ways, she looked a bit like Garcia as well. Which might just have made him like her more…
She’d said she thought his name was Reid. Which it was. But she probably assumed that was his first name. Not many people answered their phones by saying their last name. So he wasn’t surprised by her assumption. Even though it wasn’t exactly right.
“Yes,” he replied to her. “Doctor Spencer Reid.”
“A doctor, huh? I would have pegged you as more of the academic type,” I said, smiling. “But I guess it’s fitting I asked you about my character since he’s a doctor.”
She was insightful, assuming he was an academic type.
“They’re P.H.D.s, three of them,” he replied, automatically. He had gotten so used to people questioning how he could be a doctor.
“Wow… How old are you? Cause I thought you were around my age,” she’d asked. It was the usual reaction he got.
“Thirty. What about you, how old are you?” he asked, before kicking himself for asking her age. Emily had told him, after a very awkward conversation with a waitress at a restaurant, that women didn’t like being asked their age. JJ and Garcia seemed to agree. But he really was wondering.
“Only Twenty Six,” she had answered. She didn’t seem offended about it, either.
“Like your character?” he asked, wondering what else about her character was based on herself.
He assumed that the thing about not having been in a relationship, or having been kissed, had been based on her. Because she looked so… sad when she asked him if he thought that was weird. And when he told her it wasn’t, she’d seemed so happy. That was why he had to assure her that not everyone was like the jerk who’d made fun of her writing.
“Exactly,” she’d said, with a bright smile. “You must be a genius to get three P.H.D.s before you were thirty…”
“I’ve actually had them since I was twenty two,” he answered, informing her. But as he spoke, he again wished he could stop himself. It made him sound pretentious.
“Wow…” she replied, looking impressed. “Can… Can I ask you one more question before you go?”
He gave her a look to signal for her to go on, but she didn’t seem to be paying attention. Lost in her own thoughts.
“Go on?” he said, after a moment.
He quickly checked his watch… He needed to be at the jet in fifty two minutes. It would take him approximately thirty minutes to drive there from the library, that meant he had to be in his car in no later than six minutes. He wanted to spend more time talking to her, but he really had to go.
“Do you happen to know anything about poison?” she asked. And her voice was so sweet, he had to believe it was an innocent question. He didn’t know why she would need to know about poison, though…
Logically, it was for a story. Logically, she wasn’t trying to figure out about poisons because she was an unsub. Of course she wasn’t an unsub. But there was that part of his brain that never really left work at work.
“I have a character who is a princess, and her brother poisons her to try and take her throne…” Penny said, quickly. To explain. “And so I need to know what kind of poison he would use… I would look it up for myself, but since you seem to know everything… And I really don’t want to be put on some FBI watchlist because of it. I mean, I might already be on one, given all the weird things I google for my stories… Still, I really don’t want the FBI to think I’m a serial killer or anything…”
That was funny. He did have to admit, he had wondered… Just because of that question, and because women used poison. But it was a relief to know she had a different reason entirely. And it was funny that she just happened to ask an FBI agent. A coincidence.
When she looked confused, and just slightly hurt at his laughter, he realized he had to explain. Taking out his card, he handed it to her, and watched comprehension dawn on her face.
“Oh… Okay…” she said, turning crimson. “I… Am I… Okay… I didn’t mean… Am I on some FBI watchlist? Is that why you were here? Were you watching me? Cause I promise I’m not a serial killer. And that time I looked up how much blood you can lose before passing out, I wasn’t planning on torturing anyone… Well, anyone who wasn’t fictional…”
40% blood volume, or approximately 2000ml… But since she’d already looked that up, she probably already knew that… He didn’t have to tell her.
“You’re not on any watch list that I know of,” he reassured her. She seemed to need it. “I just happened to be here, and needed a seat.” And he was so glad that it had happened that way. Now she had his number… “And, as for poison, I can help you figure out which one your character can use.” I already know a lot, but I’ll do some research, just in case. “We’ll just need to set up another time to meet.” A date. “Since you have my card, you can call me.” Please do. “I will be out of town for a while, I don’t know when I’ll be back…” I hope it’s soon. “So we can arrange our next meeting after that.”
“I overheard. Washington?” she asked. She had been paying attention.
“Yes,” he told her. That meant a three hour time difference. Which meant it would be hard to find a time for her to call him. Or for him to call her… Though she was the one with his number, he didn’t have hers.
“Would it be better for me to text, rather than call?” she asked, seeming to think the same thing.
“I don’t do much texting,” he told her, honestly. Though he was willing to do it for her. He just didn’t like it… He’d rather be able to hear her voice, anyway. He liked the way her voice sounded. “Though… If you could text me when you want to talk, and I will call you if I can? Because of the time difference and what my work entails… Otherwise, I can just text…”
“That works for me,” she said.
Spencer really needed to get going. He had to get to the jet. He couldn’t be late. He was never late… Not since… He didn’t want to be late.
“Again, it was a pleasure to meet you,” he said, as he picked up his books, and started towards the front desk. Not wanting to leave, but having to.
“And Again, the pleasure was all mine,” she called after him.
Spencer smiled, as he took the books to the desk, and left them there. It’d been a nice conversation. He liked talking to her, and was looking forward to seeing her again. The conversation had been… Shockingly normal. It’d been far too long since he’d had a normal conversation with anyone other than his team. And, especially too long since he’d had such a long conversation with a woman who he was attracted to.
She hadn’t known him as an FBI profiler, and their conversation had nothing to do with his job. That was another thing that was new for him. And even better, she let him ramble about the things he felt like an expert in. Even called him a genius… It was a balm after that feeling of letting himself down. After the last case… The weird feeling he’d had, while they were catching the Zodiac CopyCat. That he should have done better… Sometimes he needed the reminder, from people who didn’t know him, that maybe he hadn’t failed.
She was unique. Like no one he’d met before. A beautiful girl with copper hair and blue eyes. A rare combination, one of the rarests. Only 0.17% of the population had that combination. She was one in five hundred eighty five. Not exactly one in a million from genetic factors. But she was more than that. Something even more rare. A kind and trusting person, who’d listened to him rant, and was impressed. A woman he wanted to get to know, and to see again.
Hopefully, she would text him. He hadn’t wanted to ask for her phone number, in case she would feel pressured to give it. Maybe she didn’t really want to see him again, and she was just being nice. He’d seen that before. That was why he gave her his number, so the choice was still hers. Always hers.
He’d just gotten into his car, and buckled his seatbelt, when his phone buzzed. Pulling it out of his messenger bag, he checked it to see a text from an unknown number.
‘This is Penny’ it said, with a smiling cat emoji.
Spencer smiled, putting his phone back into his bag, and starting up his car. He’d text her as soon as he got to the plane. It felt like it was the start of something new.