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She’s wondered and fantasized about who her Soulmate could be since she was a little girl. She’d sit on her grandmother’s lap while she brushed her hair and would beg her to tell the story of how she met her grandfather over and over. She’d ask her what went wrong with her parents — why they weren’t Soulmates and why they decided to get married, anyway. When she caught a glimpse of the woman’s Soulmark, she’d trace over the initials with her fingers until her hand got knocked away because it was starting to tickle. The fascination never faded. The fact that there was a perfect person out there for her plagued her mind and dreams. When would she meet them? What would they be like? What if she never met them? What if they didn’t believe in the legitimacy of the Soulmark?
Spencer doesn’t fully believe in the promise of the Soulmark. He’s researched the concept and has retained the personal accounts and statistics, so he knows that less than half of the world’s population will meet and stay with their Soulmate for life. His parents were Soulmates, technically, and their relationship definitely wasn’t a success story. Diana read him beautiful stories about Soulmates and tried to convince him that they were magical, but he was always skeptical. Aaron and Haley were the most convincing proof of the Soulmark that he had come across, but it was clear that they weren’t perfectly happy. Sure, nobody is, but isn’t it the whole point of the mark that it will lead you to your perfect match? Maybe Aaron would’ve been happier with someone who understood his passion for his work, and maybe Haley would’ve been happier with someone who worked a scheduled job.
Sometimes – rarely – Soulmates have a platonic connection to each other rather than a romantic one. Derek and Penelope decided this when they revealed their Marks to each other. Spencer isn’t entirely convinced by their decision, due to the way they speak to each other and the longing glances he’s caught them making. But it does happen. That’s probably what will happen to him; if it does happen at all, he’s sure of it.
─── ♡ ───
When her Soulmark ignites, signifying that her Soulmate is nearby, she’s packing into a busy Metro car at seven in the morning. She’s on her way to work, and the skin above her ankle starts tingling as she funnels inside. A quiet gasp escapes her as she carefully analyzes each person in the car, but none of them seem fazed.
Everyone around her is in their own little bubbles. Men and women dressed in corporate attire stare out the Metro windows with their eyes glazed over. A handful of teenagers have headphones on. A man is flipping through the pages of a book, sitting diagonally from her. There are older people scanning newspapers. Nobody’s day has been irrevocably changed like hers has. Maybe there’s been a mistake? But the universe doesn’t make mistakes…
She’s hoping to meet the eyes of the beautiful stranger that she’ll get to call hers for the rest of her life, but nobody is as alerted as she is. Tearing her eyes from the crowd, she glances down at her leg, seeing the golden and slightly glowing SR.
Little does she know, her SR is too engrossed in his book to have noticed his Soulmark activating, so distracted that he was supposed to get off three stations ago. He’s capable of getting so lost and entrenched in a novel that a sinkhole could appear underneath him and he wouldn’t notice until the sunlight withered and dark shadows were cast over the pages.
Her heart aches as the Metro pulls away from the station and continues its ascent through the Line. She’s heard about this happening to people, but she never thought it would happen to her. She tries to self-soothe by reminding herself that some people never meet their Soulmate, but it has the opposite effect on her nervous system.
She’s fighting back tears as she exits the car at her stop, pulling at a loose string on her cardigan until it unravels and frays at the edge of her sleeve. As she pulls open the door to her work, the light chime of the bell contrasts with how heavy her heart feels. She barely acknowledges her boss, Beth, as she clocks in and pushes the cart of returned books through the aisles.
Beth is an older woman who reminds her of her grandmother, who died a few years ago. She corners her a few hours into her shift, crossing her arms and intently staring at her over her glasses. “Why the long face?”
She lifts the hem of her dress enough to show the woman her Mark and tears up as she tells her what happened. Beth insists that she’s not doomed, that at least her Soulmate lives in the city. Then, she feels guilty as she recalls Beth’s story of her Soulmark igniting while she was on vacation in a foreign country.
─── ♡ ───
Spencer is in the work bathroom, shirt slightly lifted, staring at the reflection of his Mark on his hipbone. He doesn’t even know when it appeared. It must have happened sometime between leaving his apartment and arriving late to work, but he didn’t feel it ignite. Rubbing a hand over his face, he’s incredulous as he stares at the golden initials.
Derek barrels into the restroom, stopping in his tracks as he catches a glimpse of the golden writing on his coworker’s skin. Spencer yanks his shirt down as the door swings open, but he doesn’t cover himself in time.
“Reid… Is that…?”
As he tucks his shirt back into his slacks, he quickly mutters, “It’s nothing.”
Derek crosses his arms over his chest. “It didn’t look like nothing.” Spencer tries to slip around him, but he’s blocked by the large expanse of Derek’s body. Staring at him pointedly, he asks, “Did you meet your Soulmate?”
Spencer huffs and crosses his arms too. “No.”
“No?”
“No! I missed the Mark igniting and I don’t know when it happened or who was nearby and I might never meet them, okay?!” Derek’s lips part in shock, and Spencer takes the opportunity to escape the restroom.
─── ♡ ───
A few weeks pass before she regains any hope of meeting her Soulmate. She’s been wearing long pants to cover the mark, as catching glimpses of it fills her with dread and despair. Even as it’s gotten warmer out, – a humid Spring settling into the Virginia air – she couldn’t be paid to wear her floral dresses again.
She’s running the register one evening when a cute man enters the store – donned in glasses, a tie, and a leather satchel. Her head had been bored, resting in her hand until he walked in, but the sight of him had her perking up. Even if he’s not her Soulmate (which he likely isn’t), he’s extremely attractive, and she’d love to talk to him. He does look slightly familiar, but she can’t quite place him.
He swiftly approaches the counter, hands gripping the strap of his bag. “Hi–”
“Hi–” she says at the same time.
They both chuckle and duck their heads.
With a flush on her cheeks, she continues, “Hi, how can I help you?”
He adjusts his glasses as he inquires, “Um, I was wondering if you guys have a book I’m looking for? The shop on 4th said you might?”
“I can check for you,” she says as she shifts over to the computer, tapping the keyboard to wake the screen. “What was it called?”
“Thank you, um, it’s Mutus Liber. I really need the first edition.” He nervously bites his lip. “Not even Georgetown or George Washington has it, and I kind of urgently need it for work.”
Her eyebrows shoot up at his obscure request, but she continues typing. “You might be in luck. Beth, the owner, is obsessed with old books and first editions…” She glances up at him as she waits for their dinosaur of a computer to load, and he’s bouncing on his heels and glancing around the store in wonder. He’s even prettier up close.
The computer dings as the results pop up, and she smiles as the book appears in the first line. “We have it downstairs. I’ll be right back.”
His eyes light up, and his shoulders sink in relief. “Wow, thank you so much.”
She nods and turns around to head to the basement door, shifting through the keys on her lanyard until she finds the right one. Glancing back at him again, taking in his pristine appearance and polite attitude, she decides to bend the rules for him. “Do you want to come with me?”
Cocking his head, he asks, “Am I allowed to?”
She purses her lips. “Not technically, but maybe you’ll find something else that could help you?”
His lips turn upward, and he adjusts his glasses again. “I wouldn’t want to upset Beth.”
She chuckles and waves him over. “Please, she will be ecstatic that a customer is interested in her collection.”
Pausing to think for a moment, he fiddles with the strap on his bag some more. Finally, he nods and says, “Okay,” before circling the counter and standing behind her as she unlocks and opens the door. He reaches over her head to grab the edge of it as it swings towards them, holding it open for her.
She whispers, “Thank you,” as she tries to be normal about him being so close to her – so close that she can smell his woodsy cologne.
As they descend the rickety stairs, she flicks the light switch, and the bulb flickers on. He quietly gasps as the shelves come into view, books blanketed in dust cover them from the floor to the ceiling.
She heads to the shelf of first editions as he scans the room with wide eyes and parted lips. Pulling it down, she tells him, “So I can’t let you take it home, unfortunately. But you can stay here and look through it for as long as you need.”
Approaching her from behind, he leans over her shoulder to look at the book. She turns her head to look at him, and she stops breathing as she takes him in. With smooth hair and freckled skin, he’s incredibly beautiful.
She’s forgotten that she said something until he responds, “That’s not a problem, actually. I’ll only need to look through it once.”
“Oh?”
His cheekbones have a dusting of pink as he shyly tells her, “I have an eidetic memory. Once I see it, it’s all stored up here,” and he taps his head and turns to face her.
Their faces are terribly close, and she forgets what she was about to say as her eyes flit over his face. His warm brown eyes and rosy cheeks make her knees feel weak. She catches herself glancing down at his perfectly pink lips and sharply inhales as she takes a step back. Handing over the book, she racks her brain for something to say. “That’s, um… That’s really impressive.”
He gently takes the book from her hands, as if it were made of glass. With pursed lips, he flips the cover open.
As she recedes towards the stairs, she says, “You can bring it upstairs, if you’d like. It’s so dark and gloomy down here.” He nods and follows her back up.
A customer is waiting at the counter as they emerge from the basement, and she beelines for the register to check them out as the cute boy lightly flips the pages behind her.
It doesn’t take long before he’s handing the book back to her and thanking her sincerely for her help. “Oh, no problem. Feel free to come back if you need anything else.” He nods and heads for the front door. She finally introduces herself just before he pushes the door open, telling him her first name, and he mumbles it under his breath before informing her of his name, as well.
“I’m Spencer.”
She smiles and nods, “Bye, Spencer.”
It’s probably just a coincidence that his first initial matches the one near her ankle, she tells herself. But she can’t help from hoping that she’ll see him again, anyway.
─── ♡ ───
The team is grateful and impressed that Spencer managed to find the exact edition they were looking for, and Aaron asks him where he went.
As he explains that he went to the shop across town — a shop that has an archive of old, first edition books in their basement — nobody is surprised at how his expression glows.
Derek watches him carefully, though. Something seems off about his story. Nothing about him going out of his way to find the book is abnormal, but as Spencer recalls the woman who let him see the basement, Derek interrupts the story.
“And who was this woman who led you to this creepy-sounding basement?”
Spencer rolls his eyes. “It wasn’t like that. She was really great- extremely helpful.”
Derek inquires, “Hm, what was her name?”
Spencer sends him a scowl, silently begging him not to bring up his Soulmark in front of their coworkers, as he shares her first name with him.
Derek’s eyebrows shoot up as he smirks, “Interesting name.”
─── ♡ ───
Over a week passes before he comes back to Sherwood Books. She’s in the middle of a conversation with Beth as the doorbell chimes, and her eyes widen as she realizes who it is. Beth gives her a pointed look as she tunes out the woman and watches Spencer walk inside. She waves at him with stars in her eyes, and he returns the gesture before heading for the book displays.
Her boss snaps her fingers in her face, making her flinch and redirect her eyes back to her.
Beth points at her ankle and asks, “Is he the one?”
Shrugging her shoulders, she replies, “I don’t know, probably not… But I wouldn’t be mad if he was…”
Tutting at her and peering over her glasses, she realizes, “Oh, he’s the one you broke the rules for.”
Her heart races as she reminisces on their time in the basement – him standing so close to her and smelling so nice and being so nice and-
“Is that a yes?” Beth interrupts her thoughts.
Sighing, she rolls her eyes and confirms, “Yes.” Beth affectionately squeezes her shoulder before she walks away to her office.
She tries not to stare at him as he peruses the shelves – she really does, but she just can’t help herself. The sleeves of his button-up are pushed up to his forearms, and she desperately scans his skin in search of a Soulmark, but finds nothing. When he senses the weight of someone’s gaze on him and peers around a display, making eye contact with her, her eyes widen, and she quickly turns around, pretending to be busy with a box of books.
Eventually, he approaches the register, and she races to help him before Beth can.
Slightly breathless, she greets him, “Hey.”
With a polite smile, he returns the greeting before placing a book written in Russian on the counter. “Just this for me, please.”
Impressed by his selection, her lips purse as she flips it over and scans the barcode. She asks, “You know Russian?” then immediately feels stupid for asking. Obviously, he knows the language; why else would he be buying a Russian novel?
He chuckles and shyly shrugs, “Yes. I can understand seven languages currently.”
Her eyebrows rise at his admission. “Oh, wow.”
“I do struggle with the pronunciation sometimes, though.” She appreciates his attempt to be humble.
“Well, there goes my plan to impress you by reciting some obscure text in a foreign language,” She jokes, with a smile.
His cheeks flush as he laughs and replies, “You don’t have to try that hard to impress me.”
She’s certain her heart has stopped beating. Was that flirting? Was he flirting with her? She was definitely trying to flirt with him – was that him flirting back?
With parted lips, she feels her face heat as she stares at him. He’s staring back at her with his impossibly beautiful eyes, and she knows she needs to say something. Looking down, she realizes he’s holding his debit card, and she remembers where they are — that she has a job to do.
After rattling off his total, their fingers brush as he hands the card over to her, and her veins buzz. She feels dizzy. This is ridiculous.
Swiping his card, she holds onto it for a moment as the register processes his payment. She looks down at it and freezes as she reads the name. Spencer Reid. SR.
She doesn’t notice his receipt printing and stares at the piece of plastic, dumbstruck.
He asks, “Is everything okay?” waking her up from her stupor.
Quickly, she replies, “Yes. Sorry,” and tears the receipt off the machine, handing it and his card back to him.
He thanks her as he slides them into his wallet, but his voice sounds distant, like he’s underwater, to her clouded brain.
He could actually be her Soulmate. His initials are SR. What is she supposed to do? How is she supposed to bring this up? How does she ask him if he’s gotten his Soulmark yet? Are her initials displayed somewhere on his body? What if he hasn’t? What if it’s just a coincidence?
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
She realizes she’s been staring downward at the register with her fingers gripping the counter for an unknown amount of time. She tries to wave it off and replies, “Yes, sorry. I, um, I’m not feeling very well all of a sudden.” It’s not a complete lie. She does feel dizzy, and her stomach is full of knots.
His expression softens with concern. “Don’t be sorry. I hope you feel better soon — I was just saying that you guys have a remarkable selection here and I’ll be back soon.”
Soon. He’ll be back soon. This is good. This is terrible. This is-
“We’d love to have you back. I’m just gonna…” She points vaguely behind her, quickly squeaking, “Have a good day!”
He flinches and steps toward the door, replying with a confused, “You too…”
She bolts into Beth’s office, slamming the door behind her and resting her back against it. Her boss jumps at the intrusion, and the wheels of her chair roll against the tile as she faces her frazzled employee.
Before an inquiry can be made about what happened, her chest heaves as she says, “SR. His initials are SR.”
Beth’s face lights up with a grin as she lifts her glasses to her head. “And you told him?”
Her expression quickly drops as she’s met with the shake of a head. “What if it’s not him? What if he doesn’t have his Mark yet? What if he does, and the initials aren’t mine? Oh my god, I think I’m dying…” She keels over with a hand on her chest.
Beth rolls her eyes and stands up from her chair, resting her hands on the desk, “You’re acting like you’re the first person to go through this. You need to talk to him.”
She straightens her posture and nods her head. “I know. I will… if I didn’t just scare him away.”
─── ♡ ───
Luckily, she hadn’t scared him away. He returns to their store a few days later, and when she catches a glimpse of him walking through the door, she sends a wide-eyed, terrified look to Beth.
She still doesn’t know how to ask him about the existence of his Soulmark. She’s anticipating that he’ll have to let her down. She’s sure he’ll be nothing but polite as he does – as he informs her that he’s not the SR she’s looking for.
Petrified to talk to him, she begs Beth to check him out as he approaches the register. Of course, her boss refuses and gently shoves her towards it.
With a French novel in his hands and a soft smile, he says, “Hey, are you feeling better?”
Her mind blanks. “What?”
Spencer sheepishly raises a hand to the back of his neck. “Um, L-Last time? You said you weren’t feeling well?”
“Oh!” She remembers, awkwardly laughing. She is, in fact, not feeling any better than she was the other day. Honestly, she feels even worse. “I am, thank you,” she lies. “How are you?”
“I’m alright. I haven’t had to travel for work for a few days, so that’s been nice.”
“That does sound… nice.” She wants to bang her head against the register keys. Why is she so incapable of being normal around him?
He chuckles, “Yes.”
As she scans his purchase, she asks, “Do you travel a lot for work?”
Nodding, he says, “I do. All over the country, actually. And I rarely ever know where we’re going until we’re headed there.”
“Oh, wow.” She astounds. “I don’t know if I could do that. I try to go with the flow, but… I prefer if the flow follows a schedule.”
His lips curve upward as he tells her, “I don’t know if that counts as going with the flow.”
Laughing and rubbing her forehead, she replies, “You’re probably right.” She interjects their conversation by relaying his total, and she hesitates before she takes his card from him.
As she swipes it, she realizes she hasn’t asked him what he does for work, even though it’s come up twice. “What do you do, exactly?”
“I, um, I work for the government.”
“Gotcha, so you can’t tell me exactly what you do?”
Tittering, he says, “No– I mean, yes, I can. I’m with the FBI. We use psychology and behavioral analysis to catch serial killers.”
Her lips part in surprise as she rests her hand on the receipt printer. “Oh, wow. That sounds intense.”
His mouth purses as he nods, “Yes.”
As their casual chat comes to a close, the lull brings her inner panic. This is the part where she’s supposed to ask him about his Soulmark.
Okay, here it goes. “Do you… um…”
He gives her an expectant gaze while tilting his head. “Do I…?”
“Sorry, do you need a bag?”
Spencer glances at his singular book that definitely doesn’t require a bag, then shakes his head. “I’m good. Thank you, though.”
Bashfully smiling, she hands back his card and his receipt. “Right. Well, thank you for shopping with us.”
He tells her, “Have a great day,” as he turns to leave, and she wants to disappear as she recalls their last interaction.
Muttering, “You too,” she rotates to face Beth, whose face is full of anticipation. After the door chime rings, she tells her, “I’m a coward.”
Her boss laughs as she agrees, “Yes.”
─── ♡ ───
Derek tells Penelope that Spencer met his Soulmate. Derek told Penelope, and Spencer is pissed. He wanted to deal with this on his own. He didn’t even want to tell Derek, but he was cornered into it twice. He doesn’t even know if she is his Soulmate.
Penelope goes behind his back and finds her social media accounts — solely by knowing what her first name is and where she works. Her skills are frightening at times.
She storms into the bullpen like a neon tornado, racing to Spencer’s desk, gripping a piece of printer paper. Slamming it onto the wood, she screeches, “Is this her?!”
The intrusion has him flinching galvanically, and he scrambles to grab the sheet, holding it to his chest, as he balks, “…No.”
She smiles like a Cheshire cat, “Then why are you holding it to your heart like it’s something precious?”
He grumbles something about privacy and boundaries as he shoves the screenshot of her Facebook into his desk drawer, hoping that Penelope can’t see him biting the inside of his cheek, hiding a smile.
It’s probably not her, he rationalizes. There are thousands of people in this city, and there’s no statistical way she’s the only one with initials that match the ones on his hipbone. It’s incredibly unlikely and would be entirely too lucky for him to have found her. Maybe this is the universe righting its wrongs for putting him through-
There’s no way it’s her.
─── ♡ ───
It’s definitely not her, but Sherwood does have a great selection of books. It’s definitely not her, but maybe they can be friends.
Spencer starts spending more and more time at Sherwood. He’ll pile up a stack of books in his arms and sit in the armchair by the window, reading, until they close and Beth lovingly kicks him out.
The first time he did this, she approached him with a shitty cup of Keurig coffee made from the machine in the office. He accepted it gratefully, fingers curling over hers around the mug. She nodded to the stack of books and asked him if he was planning to get through all of them before they closed in a couple of hours. He laughed and informed her that yes, he was planning to, and that he can read twenty thousand words per minute. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head.
It became a routine. A few times a week, he’d pop by, meandering through the shelves while picking his selection. After he settled into his spot, she’d bring him his cup of coffee, carefully blowing at the steam while she carried it over to him. He’d sincerely thank her, pretending to be surprised that she’s done it again. She’d ask him about what he’s chosen that day, and he’d animatedly tell her about each book: what he knows about them and what he’s looking forward to. He’d give her thorough reviews before he left, as he returned each one to its rightful place. She insists that he doesn’t have to do that, that he can leave them on the returned books cart and she’ll take care of them for him – it’s literally her job – and he’d refuse.
He asks her what her favorite books are, and when she shyly tells him that her favorite genre is romance, his heap of books becomes a mixture of his selections and ones that she’s mentioned.
She avoids Beth’s gaze when she comes into work one morning with a brand-new coffee machine tucked under her arm. He deserves better than shitty Keurig coffee.
─── ♡ ───
The BAU has a case in Bumfuck, Utah and they’re about to board the plane and he has no way of telling her that he’ll be gone for an unidentified amount of time. He wonders if she’ll worry about him – if she’ll glance at the door each time it chimes, hoping it’ll be him.
JJ watches him forlornly stare out the jet window, narrowing her eyes in confusion.
When they return from Bumfuck, Utah, he goes straight to Sherwood before even heading to his apartment. It’s two in the afternoon, and he’s never gone in at this time. He hopes that’s okay. His duffel bag is hanging off his shoulder, and he feels a little ridiculous walking around like that.
She lights up like a Christmas tree when she spots his chestnut hair and sweater vest in the doorway. He apologizes profusely for disappearing, explains that he had to go to Bumfuck, Utah, and shyly asks for her number.
Giggling and pulling a sparkly green pen off her lanyard, she scribbles the digits into the palm of his hand.
─── ♡ ───
He told himself that getting her number was solely for logistical purposes. It was only so he could inform her when he’d be out of town and to ask about the books in the basement. At first, that’s all it was.
Then, she started sending him pictures of new releases and views from the bookstore window that never failed to put a smile on his face. He started sending photos from random states and the jet window in return.
Eventually, he found himself texting her first thing in the morning and right before he went to bed. He’d do so throughout the day, sporadically, as well – as long as Derek or Penelope weren’t nearby.
“Do I want to know why you’re smiling at your crotch?” Derek saunters up to Spencer with a twisted grin on his face.
Spencer shoves his phone under his thigh and purses his lips in feigned confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
─── ♡ ───
It’s raining, and multiple spots on the ceiling are steadily dripping into buckets. She’s spent half of her shift setting up and moving wet-floor signs, and she wishes that she could curl up with a book and a cup of tea by the window. The soft sky and gentle pattering of droplets normally bring her comfort, but today they’ve only brought chaos.
She’s not even as excited to see Spencer as she normally would be. Her hair is a frizzy mess from the humidity, and her mind is completely frazzled.
He’s perusing the shelves for something he hasn’t read yet – a difficult feat – when a customer informs her that the ceiling is leaking in another spot. With a sigh, she goes on a hunt for an additional bucket, passing Spencer as she does.
Her feet skid across the floor behind him, and he just barely sees her lose balance in his periphery. Instinctively reaching his arms out for her, if he hadn’t had an eye on her, she would’ve slipped and fallen backwards.
She gasps. “Oh my-” As he pivoted, his hands found her waist to steady her, and hers landed on his chest. “Thanks,” she continues, winded.
Their faces are incredibly close, and she can feel his breath fanning over her face as they just stare at each other. “You’re welcome,” he replies, whispering. Her eyes flicker down to his lips as he speaks, lingering there as they move. His tongue darts out to wet them, and she quickly meets his eyes again, only to find them pointed towards her mouth. His palms feel warm around her hips, and her fingers find the edge of his jacket.
Her heart jumps as he gets closer, seemingly leaning in to kiss her. Is this really happening? Maybe she’s dreaming. Maybe she did slip and she smacked her head and this is a weird concussion dream.
Spencer murmurs, “Could I-”
“Excuse me, ma’am, do you work here?” She flinches and turns around to find an older man awkwardly staring at them. Spencer’s hands slowly fall from her hips, and he takes a step away from her. If her entire body weren’t on fire, she’d feel cold from the absence of him.
She’s breathless, and her mind is reeling as she smooths her shirt, hoping to calm the butterflies wreaking havoc in her stomach.
Clearing her throat, she shakily responds, “Yes.”
The customer is holding a children’s book that has a Jolly Rancher stuck to the front cover. “Can I get a discount on this?”
She flattens her lips to smile politely, “I’m sure we can find one that isn’t damaged,” and leads the man to the kids’ area. She can’t help herself from looking back at Spencer one more time, where she sees him watching her wistfully.
─── ♡ ───
It’s getting too hot for her to continue wearing pants, so she wears her dresses again, but with socks long enough to cover her Mark. She’s standing on a ladder, stocking the top shelves, when he comes in again. He doesn’t stray from his usual uniform as Spring fades into Summer. The most of his skin that she’s seen is his forearms, and she feels like a creep wishing to see more of him bare.
He always smells so good, and his clothes look so soft. She wonders how they would feel against her skin – how it would feel to lay her head on his chest, inhaling his cologne and listening to his heartbeat.
His eyebrows furrow as he glances around the store, looking for her. He smiles and waves politely at Beth when he catches her eye, and her heart flitters as she watches this from above. He’s so courteous and sweet and lovely. When his eyes trail up the ladder and find her, they soften and glisten.
Walking up next to her, he cranes his head to see the books she’s stocking and asks her about them. “Cookbooks?”
Glancing down at him with a smile, she says, “Yeah. We just got a new shipment.” She has to force herself to look back at the box in her arms. He looks especially pretty from high up. “Do you cook?”
Rubbing the back of his neck, he replies. “I can, but I don’t do it enough.”
She tsks at him and jests, “Busy FBI agent too busy to boil water?”
As he laughs, she bites her lip to hold back a celebratory grin. He replies, “Something like that. It’s just easier to order in… Do you cook?”
She nods and says, “As often as I can. I’m often only cooking for myself, though, so it can be hard to get the servings right. I find myself begging Beth to take some of my leftovers like every other week,” while giggling. She’d love to cook for him sometime. She wonders what he would like, what he grew up eating.
As she descends the ladder, he holds out a hand for her to hold. She quietly thanks him, slightly lifting the hem of her dress as she steps down. She doesn’t see his eyes flicker to her ankle, where the top edge of her Mark is peeking above her sock.
“I- Um- I have to go.” He abruptly announces, with a perturbed look in his eyes.
“Oh-”
Rubbing his mouth, he murmurs, “Sorry- I… Bye,” before bolting out the door.
She glances over at Beth in confusion, who’s looking back at her with a similar expression.
─── ♡ ───
“She has her Soulmate already,” Spencer tells Derek while sulking at his desk.
Derek frowns and squeezes his shoulder, “I’m sorry, man.”
Spencer shrugs, “It’s fine. I don’t care about it anyway.”
Derek stares at him while he maintains his focus on his desk. “You’re a terrible liar.”
“I’m not lying,” Spencer defends, pursing his lips.
Derek narrows his eyes and tilts his head accusatorily. “Then why do you look like a kicked puppy?”
“I don’t,” Spencer responds too quickly.
Derek pesters him, asking what happened, until Spencer folds and tells him.
Derek speaks slowly, and it makes Spencer feel dumb, which greatly annoys him. “So you didn’t see the initials properly?”
“No.” He confirms.
“So, for all you know, they could’ve been yours?”
“Not likely, but yes, I suppose.”
Derek flicks him in the forehead, and Spencer yelps in pain. “What was that for?!”
“For being an idiot,” he replies, rolling his eyes before walking away while shaking his head.
─── ♡ ───
Almost two weeks after last seeing him, she runs into him at the grocery store. The store closes in thirty minutes, and she’s only there to buy ice cream.
She’s certain she’s hallucinating when she sees the back of his head at the end of the aisle. How pathetic is it that she misses him so much that she’s seeing things — applying his caricature to someone else?
Her breath lodges in her throat when he turns around, and it actually is Spencer who’s staring at the frozen waffles.
She’s as frozen as the food around them as he makes eye contact with her. For a moment, they stare at each other like two figurines trapped in a snow globe.
He raises his hand to wave perfunctorily before turning on his heel to walk away. She frowns and finds herself chasing after him.
“Spencer- Wait-“
Part of him wants to ignore her and just keep walking, but she didn’t do anything wrong and doesn’t deserve that. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself for treating her that way. Halting his movements, he slowly turns back around to face her. How does she still look so beautiful under the harsh fluorescent lighting?
“Hey, we’ve missed you at Sherwood.”
He winces, “Yeah… I’ve, um, I’ve been busy,” and raises a hand to the back of his neck.
She nods, averting her gaze to the wall of sliced cheese behind him. “Right, of course. I didn’t mean-” Wringing her hands, she looks back at him to ask, “Did I do something wrong?”
His heart wilts at her inquiry. Her voice sounds so small and timid, and he hates himself for causing her to feel this way. Eyes softening, he takes a step towards her as he says, “No, you didn’t do anything wrong.” She really didn’t. It’s not her fault that she’s already met her Soulmate. It’s his fault for naively thinking that she could be his.
She absentmindedly nods, and they both know she doesn’t believe him, but she’s trying to absorb his words anyway. “Okay… good. That’s good.” Turning to point at the breakfast foods aisle, she dumbly says, “You didn’t get your waffles.”
His lips part, then shut, then open again. “Um… I realized that I already have some.” He’s lying, and they both know it.
The words fall out of her like a torrential downpour. She can’t control it, and she doesn’t have an umbrella to protect them with. “I have this recipe that makes exactly two waffles – I could send it to you if you’d like? I put a dash of cinnamon in mine, but you don’t have to, but I’ve found it adds a nice flavor-”
“Sure.” He interrupts her nervous rambling with a tense, closed-lipped smile. “I have to go. I’ll try to stop by Sherwood soon.”
Before she can respond, he’s already turned around and bolting to the checkout. Her eyes burn as she watches him go. She sends him the stupid recipe with blurred vision. He doesn’t respond.
She buys two pints of ice cream and eats half of both.
He does make the waffles when he gets home. It was the main reason he went to the store that late — a need for something sweet to drown his sorrows in. Something to drown in syrup while he tries to pay attention to a documentary.
His waffle maker sucks, so the first one comes out burnt and ruined. He only gets to eat one. It’s the best waffle he’s ever had, yet his chest aches with every bite.
He remembers when she said that she mostly cooks for herself, and thinks that her Soulmate is an idiot for not enjoying her cooking.
─── ♡ ───
Beth has had enough. She’s had enough of the sulking, downturned expressions, and half-hearted conversations with her employee. Books are being shelved incorrectly, and the front door didn’t even get locked last night.
She approaches her with her arms crossed. “Call him.”
She doesn’t even look up as she mumbles, “He doesn’t want to talk to me.”
Beth scoffs, “Look, honey. This has gone on for far too long. You need to tell him about your Mark. You’ll regret it if you don’t,” and she stands there, eyes flicking down to her dress pocket, until she relents and yanks her phone out of it.
“Fine. But I’m not doing it out here,” She says before walking towards the office door.
Her thumb hovers over his contact as she shuts the door behind her. Closing her eyes, she dials him and begins pacing as it rings, biting the skin around her thumb.
It rings for so long that she’s certain it’s about to go to voicemail when his light and airy voice enters her ear: “Hello?”
She takes a rattled breath. “Hi.”
For a few moments, the only sounds they can hear are each other's breathing.
He clears his throat before he asks, “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Well, no. I think we should talk.”
He hesitates before he answers, thinking that she’s going to continue, but when she doesn’t, he says, “Okay-”
“Can you meet me at Shady Park today? After work? I mean…” She shakes her head and drops into the desk chair with a hand on her forehead. “Are you in town?”
“Yes, I’m in town,” Spencer confirms. “And yes, I can meet you at the park. Is everything okay?”
“I just need to talk to you, and I don’t want to do it over the phone.”
“Okay… That makes sense… I’ll meet you at seven? Or does it need to be after Sherwood closes?”
“Seven works.”
“Okay.”
She rushes to conclude the call, “Okay. I’ll see you then. Bye,” and hangs up before he can respond.
As she emerges from the office, pale and breathing shallowly, Beth looks at her expectantly from across the store. She tells her about their plans and tries to pull out her phone to cancel on him three times before Beth takes it from her and hides it.
A few hours later, she’s sitting on a bench in the park, watching the ripples in the river as it rushes by. The sky is gray and lifeless, and she should’ve checked the weather before planning to meet here.
Spencer approaches her from the side, and she catches a glimpse of him in her periphery before she stands to greet him. Why is she standing to greet him? That’s so strange. This is so strange.
He looks tired and sad, and she hates it. Pointing to the empty side of the bench, he says, “Hi. Can I sit?”
She overexerts a nod as she sits back down, whispering, “Please.”
They sit in silence for a while because neither of them knows how to start the conversation. They haven’t spoken in weeks, and the air between them feels abnormally heavy. Or maybe it’s just the humidity from the impending rain. They’re sitting close enough that she could lean over and rest her head on his shoulder, but there’s a metaphorical boulder separating them.
She blurts out, “I got my soulmark a few months ago.”
Spencer sighs, adjusting his posture on the bench. “I know. I saw it.”
She wasn’t really sure what he was going to say to her confession, but that wasn’t it.
Turning to face him, she’s appalled. “Wait, you saw it? So you know?” His gaze remains straightforward.
His voice remains flat and even, as if he’s sharing a mathematical equation. “Yes, I know that you already met them.”
She stutters, “W-Well, I’m not entirely sure who it is.”
He finally turns to look at her with furrowed eyebrows, “What?” and a raindrop falls onto his shoulder.
She focuses her gaze on the damp circle as she tells him, “I don’t know if you’re my SR, but I really wanted you to be.”
His heart sinks at her use of past tense. Wanted.
He barely heard her say his initials before she’s pushing down her sock and gesturing to her Mark. Spencer’s lips part as he stares at it properly. He’s certain his heart has stopped beating in his chest. He can’t wrap his head around this; his brain is struggling to make any conclusions, especially as more raindrops fall from the sky – getting caught in her eyelashes and rolling down her temples.
He suddenly starts loosening his belt, and her eyes widen. “What are you doing?”
Spencer frantically mumbles, “I need to show you something.” Her eyes dart around them as he pulls on his waistband. Surely he’s not- “Look. Please.”
Looking back at him, she finds him carefully watching her. Her eyes trail down his body to his waist, where he’s exposed a sliver of skin by his hipbone. A sliver of skin that has her initials branded into it.
Her jaw falls open. She can’t tear her eyes away from it. The rain is pouring down around them now, and she’s barely taken notice of it. She’s unsure if her eyes are burning from the droplets, her makeup, or tears brewing. Her voice trembles as she asks, “When did you get that?”
“A few months ago. I was running late for work, and I didn’t notice it until I got there. I was-”
“On the Metro? The Purple Line?” She frantically asks.
“Yes,” he sighs in response, while readjusting his pants.
“Spencer, I-”
Boom! A crack of thunder crashes around them. They both flinch at the intrusion, suddenly hyperaware of the downpour surrounding them. Spencer rises from the bench, grabs her hand, and leads them under a nearby tree. The covering of leaves does little to protect them from the rain, but the damage has already been done anyway — they’re soaked to the bone.
She asks, “Should we be under a tree when it’s storming?” glancing around at the sky in search of lightning.
His hands lift up to her cheeks, angling her head towards him. Stepping closer, he murmurs, “We’re fine.”
Her breath hitches as his face nears hers. Electricity crackles under her cheeks where his thumbs brush the skin. She doesn’t know what to do with her hands. Surely, she shouldn’t leave them just hanging by her sides, but before she can decide anything, he’s pressing his lips to hers.
She completely melts into him. Somehow, her arms end up wrapped around his neck, and she’s pulling his body into hers. She can feel him everywhere.
Another crack of thunder sounds throughout the sky, and this time it’s closely followed by a flash of lightning. She gasps, and he takes the opportunity to swipe his tongue into her mouth, sending heat into her belly and numbing her fingertips.
Finally, Spencer wises up when he sees another flash behind his eyelids, and he reluctantly separates his lips from hers. With a sly smile, he grabs her hand and points toward the parking lot. “C’mon, I drove here.”
She giggles as they run through the damp grass, puddles splashing up their ankles and their bodies drenched.
Once they reach his car, he mumbles under his breath as he sticks the key in the door, fumbling to unlock it. She thinks she hears him say something about a stupid old car.
They fall inside as the rain patters against the roof and windows, and he quickly starts the ignition to get the air blowing. They’re shaking and shivering, and she has goosebumps on her arms. She’s not sure if they’re from the rain or from him.
Looking over at him, she laughs at the sight of his hair matted to his forehead and his soaked clothes. She’s sure she doesn’t look much better. The warmth in his eyes floods her bloodstream, thawing her from the inside out as he turns to look at her.
He leans over the center console and grabs both of her hands in his, thumbs rubbing over the backs of them. With averted eyes, he tells her, “I’m sorry for how I acted.”
She had almost forgotten that he’d iced her out for weeks prior to this. She’s grateful he didn’t let her. Whispering, she responds, “It’s okay,” and he immediately shakes his head.
Making intense eye contact with her, he asserts, “No, it wasn’t. I-I really missed you — please know that…” He squeezes her hands. “I really liked you. I really like you. And I tried telling myself that I didn’t care about Soulmarks, that if ours didn’t match then we could at least still be friends, but when I saw yours I… I panicked.”
“I really missed you too. I wanted to ask if you had gotten yours, but I chickened out every time.” She purses her lips, then lightly laughs, “Beth wanted to strangle me each time you left Sherwood, and I still didn’t know.” He chuckles at that, too.
For a moment, he just stares at her, unashamedly. Her eyelashes have clumped together from the rain, and her hair is a mess, honestly, but it’s endearing, and he can see the reflection of the droplets smacking and rolling down the car windows on her skin. He notices the chills on her shoulders and urgently sits straighter, letting go of one of her hands to search his backseat. “I think I have a sweatshirt back here…”
“Oh, that’s okay-“ She’s interrupted by him presenting it to her, a tattered grey thing with CalTech embroidered on the front. Gratefully accepting it, she slides it over her head and revels in the comfort it brings her.
He gives her an imploring gaze. “You look beautiful.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m sure I look like a wet rat.”
He chuckles and shakes his head, lifting his palm to the side of her neck. Without thinking, she leans into him. Tilting her head towards him and leaning closer, his lips brush hers as he says, “Not at all,” before softly kissing her again.
─── ♡ ───
The following day, Beth watches as she flits around the bookstore. Her employee is biting back a smile and humming under her breath, and the woman’s eyes fill with tears.
Down the road at FBI Headquarters, Derek nudges Penelope’s arm as Spencer walks past them. Derek gestures at his own neck and nods his head in Spencer’s direction. Penelope’s eyes drag from Derek’s collar to Spencer’s, where the edge of a lovebite is peeking above his shirt, and her eyes widen as she squeals.
─── ♡ ───