1
A crowd of twenty-something year old undergraduate students was filing out of the doors when Jenny Faramond, 24, had to weave around them to get inside the classroom of her old high school teacher turned psychology professor. She stepped lightly in her black patent leather oxfords, struggling against the adversity of speedy students rushing to their next class. When she got through, she had expected to see a sixty-five year old intellectual with thick reading glasses and a signature smile; instead, however, she was met with the two bright hazel eyes and matching tousled hair of a man—a very young man, Jenny noted as she ran slim fingers through her own long, black, and tousled mane, a man that was indubitably not her old teacher Mr. Hindley.
The young lady stared at the young man before her as he stood, one hand in the pocket of his grey slacks, and she was sure she looked like a classic deer in the headlights.
"Is that who I think it is?" A voice called out with a pleasantly inquisitive tone.
Jenny darted her eyes away from the young man and saw another person, one that had been standing back turned to her this whole time (how had she not noticed?), and let a huge smile wipe across her face. "Mr. Hindley," she exclaimed, accepting the man's offered hug. "Oh, pardon me," she smirked, "it's Professor Hindley now, isn't it?"
Professor Hindley smiled fondly, "Oh what a pleasure it is to see my favorite student again. How long has it been?"
"Seven years."
"My goodness, look at you now, a Stanford graduate and ready to take on the world."
"What about you? You're a psychology professor now."
"Ah yes, yes, it's been nothing but wonderful." Professor Hindley glanced back towards the brown-eyed, brown-haired man he had been conversing with. "Speaking of which, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. I invited him here as a guest speaker for the students today. Doctor, this is Jenevieve, the brightest student I've ever had the privilege of teaching."
Jenny chuckled shyly at his bold compliment then extended a handshake for the doctor. "Jenevieve Faramond, it's a pleasure to meet you Dr. Reid."
Reid accepted the handshake, though not without a momentary, arbitrary hesitation first (he had a thing with physical contact sometimes). "Doctor Spencer Reid," he said, before continuing with, "Did you know the name 'Genevieve' comes from French expressions for 'white wave' and 'of the race of women' and is most commonly associated with the patron saint of Paris St. Genevieve, a fifth-century vegetarian nun known for her piety and corporal austerities and who is said to have protected Paris from Attila the Hun?"
"Actually," Jenny answered with a light-hearted laugh, "I did know that—googled it once just out of curiosity. I quite enjoy my name's feministic connotation, if I may say so myself." She tilted her head to the side and continued musing, "I'm definitely no patron saint though. My name's actually spelled with a 'J' and, considering my…aptitude for voracity, I don't' think I'll be getting into the whole vegetarianism and 'corporal austerities' shtick anytime soon."
Spencer let a throaty chuckle out, and Jenny felt her heart soar a little.
"So what brings you here today, Miss Faramond?"
"Oh, uh," said lady darted her attention back to Professor Hindley, "I was just going to drop by to say hi, and also ask if I could sit in for some of your lessons every now and then. I've got some free time on my hands these days and I quite miss your teaching style."
The old professor grinned, "Of course you can my dear, feel free to drop by during any of my afternoon classes—they start at 1, Monday through Thursday."
Jenny smiled back, "Great, thanks Mr., uh Professor Hindley."
"My pleasure."
Jenny glanced between Professor Hindley and Dr. Reid. "I'll be on my way then!"
"I should get going as well," Spencer added, "thank you again for inviting me over today Professor Hindley."
"Nonsense Dr. Reid, thank you for accepting! Jenny, I'll see you soon, yes?"
"Of course Professor, I'll drop by again tomorrow."
Spencer and Jenny then walked out the door, and Jenny was glad to see a hallway free from bustling, hard-to-get-pass students. She found that she and Spencer were heading in the same direction, and thought it polite to strike up some light conversation.
"So, Dr. Reid," she opened, making sure that she had his attention before continuing, "I'm assuming you got your doctorate in Psychology?"
"No actually," he answered, "I got them in Chemistry, Engineering, and Mathematics. Psychology is one of my Bachelor's degrees."
The young Stanford graduate's pace slowed from the traction of her dragging, sluggish steps—she was far too surprised to walk correctly. "You have three doctorates," she repeated as if trying to convince herself, "and psychology is one of your Bachelor's…so exactly how many degrees do you have?"
"Six."
"What're the other two in?"
"Bachelor's in Sociology and Philosophy."
"How old are you?"
"28."
"Damn," Jenny stammered out, duly impressed, as her walking pace picked up again.
"So I've been told," Spencer replied jocularly. "So what did you study at Stanford?"
"Nothing up to your level, but I just recently got my Masters' in English Literature and Psychology, so I do have you beat in the 'science of mind' education area," Jenny joked, "although I'm pretty convinced now that you could get a Psychology doctorate in the blink of an eye if you wanted to."
The genius chuckled again, and Jenny felt a bubbling sense of accomplishment.
"Soo, what kind of work do you do? Teaching? Research? Do you write books?" The young genius intrigued Jenny to no end, and she looked eagerly towards him for answers.
Instead, she found him wincing in pain.
"Dr. Reid? Are you okay?" He stopped walking, face scrunching up in pain as he brought a hand up to rub his left temple. "Doctor? Doctor, are you okay?"
Reid groaned quietly and muttered, "Sorry Miss Faramond, it's just a headache."
Jenny's brows furrowed in concern, "it seems like a lot more than just a headache if you ask me, Doctor. Do you have some medicine with you or something?"
"No no," Reid denied quite vehemently, "I don't need medicine. Nothing's wrong with me, I just get bad migraines sometimes."
She was a bit confused now, but still worried, so Jenny asked the doctor if he had a ride home, for he really shouldn't be driving with such a severe headache.
Still fraught with pain, Spencer mumbled something about taking the Metro and not driving his car today, so Jenny felt compelled to offer her aid.
"I can give you a ride then."
"No it's alright; I'll just take the Metro back."
"Dr. Reid please, you should notbe going around by yourself like that."
"I assure you Miss Faramond, it's not as bad as you think it is."
"Oh really now?"
"Yes."
Jenny stared at Reid with contemplation. "Let's go."
"What where?""
"Dr. Reid, I know you're not a medicinal doctor but you're clearly a smart man nonetheless, so you should know that what I'm offering you is a much safer alternative."
His head must've been throbbing very intensely now, because Jenny almost fell as she tried to catch the stumbling Dr. Reid, who'd lost his balance as well as his protesting attitude. "Y-you're right Miss Faramond, I'm sorry to trouble you like this."
So, with his arm slung over her shoulder, Jenny slowly accompanied Reid out to the parking lot and into the passenger seat of her cream Volkswagen Beetle, where she offered him a bottle of water and asked for his address (so she could use her GPS instead of pestering the poor, suffering man for directions), then began the drive to the Quantico home of Dr. Reid.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
"I'm really sorry to have troubled you."
"It's okay, really; I volunteered to give you a ride."
"I appreciate it."
"No problem," she smiled, pulling the car up by the sidewalk in front of Spencer's apartment building. "Are you sure you're okay Dr. Reid?" Jenny had always been a very cautious person, and that trait extended beyond concern for her own welfare.
He smiled weakly, "It'd be a lie if I said I was completely fine but, I'll manage. Thanks again for the ride." Reid slowly got out of the car, and was just about to go into his building when Jenny could out with alert.
"Dr. Reid!"
He turned around.
"You forgot your spiffy messenger bag," Jenny grinned with an outreached arm and a hand holding the bag strap.
Spencer sheepishly grabbed his bag. "Thank you Miss Faramond. Again."
"Call me Jenny."
"Spencer then."
"It was nice meeting you, Spencer."
"Likewise, Jenny."
Jenevieve Faramond watched Dr. Spencer Reid as he walked into his building before she started up her car—just to make sure the man she had met but an hour ago was indeed "managing."
"Every moment has infinite potential. Every new moment contains for you possibilities that you can't possibly imagine. Every day is a blank page that you could fill with the most beautiful drawings."
-John C. Parkin
