Disclaimer: see my profile
A/n here is the promised sequel to "Away In A Manger," please enjoy
Two Women and A Baby
Reid sipped at the excellent coffee made in the hotel coffee shop. It was very crowded the morning of New Years Eve. He didn't mind the crowds though, because he secretly loved profiling people.
He watched two women at another table, one middle aged and one elderly. They looked very much alike and he knew they had to be mother and daughter. The younger woman had short blond hair that was graying at the temples, and hazel eyes. The elderly woman was completely white headed with some iron gray at the ends and the same hazel eyes. The wrinkles in her face told the story of her life, but the way they spoke to each other told him more about them. He could see they had a very close relationship because of their open body language and the laughter that rang out from time to time over the steady roar of a busy room full of people talking to each other.
His eyes jumped to a table full of young people with breakfast selections and alcohol even though it was only eight in the morning. They were all in their twenties and they joked and laughed as if they'd known each other their whole lives.
A family of young children sat to his right and three tables away. Several of the patrons in the coffee shop were glancing at them with icy stares because the kids were making a lot of noise and the parents didn't seem concerned with making sure they were quiet.
He sighed and went back to his coffee and one of his books. In this age of no discipline for kids, it seemed that they acted out everywhere, even in a restaurant or at church.
His mind wandered back to "Our Lady of the West," as his waiter brought the breakfast he'd ordered: three eggs scrambled, bacon, biscuits with a selection of little jams and jellies, and pancakes.
He glanced out the window at the clear blue sky and fluffy white clouds that reminded him a bit of summer. It was deceiving, though, because it was just as cold as it had been a week when he'd found little Mary in the church Nativity Scene. He wondered how she was with her temporary foster family, the Goldsteins. Did they care if she were warm enough in this winter cold? Did she have enough clothes and formula?
Another family passed by his table with the hostess. This time there weren't any little kids, just a mother and father with three teenagers. He ignored them and turned to his breakfast.
"Hi," said a familiar voice, as he dug into his pancakes.
He glanced up and blinked. Detective Castillo stood there with her gun on her hip, her badge on her belt and a smile on her face. She wore jeans, a white sweater and a leather jacket with boots and a white scarf.
"Are you following me, Detective?"
"I thought we agreed on first names, Spencer."
"Oh right, um do you want to sit down."
"If you're sure that's okay."
"It'd be rude for me to say no at this point."
"Yes, it would be," she agreed and sat down across from him, "Great view."
"Is there something you want?"
"Nothing, just the food."
He spooned up some of his scrambled eggs as she perused the menu his waiter had brought.
"How do you know the food is good?"
"This hotel has the best New Year's Eve spread in town. They're here all the way until 2 am on New Year's Day. I've been here five years in a row, since I moved here from New Mexico."
"So meeting me here was just a coincidence?"
He sipped his coffee so she didn't see how disappointed he was that it might just be a coincidence.
"Yes, but a happy one for me."
He put a huge forkful of pancakes soaked in the most wonderful syrup into his mouth. His stomach fluttered and he decided he didn't like the confusion of feelings in his gut.
"Anna… I am glad to see you, but I think I -"
The waiter chose that moment to appear at Rosa's elbow. She ordered two eggs over easy with sausage and a blueberry muffin.
"What were you saying?"
"It's nothing."
She reached out and touched his hand. He yanked it away and looked down at his half eaten pancakes.
"Spencer?"
"I'm sorry. It's not you. I don't like to be touched, that's all."
Some of the hurt in her dark eyes lifted. "Please don't apologize. I didn't mean to run into you here. I was a little surprised and pleased to see you, which is weird because I don't trust easily."
"I used to be more trusting than I am."
"May I ask you what happened?"
He just stared down at the rest of his breakfast. He didn't feel that hungry anymore. "I really don't want to talk about it."
He didn't reply and they sat in silence for a while that managed not to be embarrassingly awkward. Reid didn't speak again until Rosa was finished with her food.
"So what is the next step?"
"I have the day off. Would you like to join me tonight for the fireworks?"
"Are you asking me out?"
"Yes, I am."
He couldn't look into her eyes because they reminded him of fathomless pools of cool water deep in the forest.
"No," he said so abruptly that she flinched.
"Spencer, I -"
"I'm sorry, but I'm just not ready for that. I - um I can't do that again," he pulled out his wallet and threw some bills on the table.
"Spencer, what's wrong?"
He jumped up from the table and hurried out of the room so fast he nearly knocked an elderly lady to the ground. Rosa watched him go red and apologize profusely, and then he was gone.
CMCMCMCMCM
The casino was noisy, but not quite noisy enough to take his mind off Rosa and her invitation. He kept thinking about her voice and how the color of her skin reminded him of coffee heavy on the cream and sugar. Her eyes were beautiful, but they weren't the color of the sea after a storm, like Maeve. She had a commanding presence that Maeve didn't have, but he liked Maeve's presence.
She's not here anymore. She doesn't have a presence.
He stabbed one finger at the button on the poker machine. The cards flipped but they didn't flip the way he wanted. So much for a 2 percent better chance if you play for a flush. Where had he gotten that statistic anyway?
He added another dollar in quarters to the machine and started the process over again. He was going to win his money back or know the reason why.
Well, the reason why was simple enough, he realized later when he'd actually lost a hundred dollars to the machine. It was unprecedented. Even on his worst day, he could always win back the money he put in the machine. This was embarrassing and thank god, Morgan wasn't here to see it.
He'd managed to kill two hours, but now he was at loose ends and had to find something else to do to get his mind off two women and a baby. In fact, he'd laugh if he didn't want to break something.
He got up from the seat near the poker machine and walked as slowly as he could to the entrance of the casino. He yearned to join in a real poker game, but he was banned. He knew the reason why casinos considered counting cards, cheating, but he didn't agree. It was more along the lines of hedging his bets. His mother always said he should use his talents.
He walked the crowded street, avoiding the people by a kind of internal radar as he thought. Morgan always said that it didn't matter how you grieve, that everyone is different. Still, he felt like he wasn't making headway with moving on with his life. Garcia said that moving on was bullshit, that when you lose someone, you never forget, so how can you really move on?
He sighed and turned a corner to where he'd parked his rental car. He was about to get in, when he abruptly he shut the door and walked across the street instead. He couldn't believe he forgot about the little bookshop right between two casinos.
When he entered the shop, he grinned because Archie was still behind the counter. He had a salt and pepper crew cut, was about five and half feet tall and very portly.
"Well, as I live and breathe, Dr. Spencer Reid. It's been ages. How the hell are you?"
"I'm fine, Archie."
"Yeah sure you are. I can see by your handsome face that your turning cartwheels of joy."
"Do you have anything new?"
"For you, kid I got lots of new stuff. Why don't you come around here and help me sort through it."
"That's why I'm here."
"I know, why the f-k do you think I stay open on the holidays. I'm always hopin' you'll come home."
"Sorry, Archie, I've been busy."
"That's always your excuse."
"Archie, are you going to show me what you have, or do I have to walk out that door?"
"Your threats don't scare me, but I like you, so get over here," he commanded in a heavy Brooklyn accent.
Reid hurried around the counter as Archie pulled a stack of books from under the counter.
"Wow, where did you get these?"
"An estate sale about three weeks ago."
"I can't believe this. These are all first editions."
"Yes… I got them all for a song because the kids didn't know what their dad had in his collection. Bunch of cretins that don't know how to read."
Reid grinned at his friend. "Why haven't you sold them?"
"Let's just say that I had a feeling you'd show up for the holidays."
Reid picked up the first edition of Peter Pan and began thumbing through it. It'd been one of his favorite stories as a kid. On the tough days, the days when his mother wouldn't get out of bed, or eat and the days when he'd come home with bruises and cuts from bigger kids that didn't have anything better to do than use him for a punching bag, he'd wish that he could fly away to an enchanted island and make friends with the Lost Boys.
"How much do you want for this one?"
"It's a gift."
"I can't do that," Reid squeaked.
"Yes you can and you will. I have others to sell."
He did have others, but none of them appealed to Reid to buy. He put them aside and put the book into his messenger bag. "Thank you, Archie. I really appreciate this."
"You can give it to your children."
Reid stood up and edged his way around to the other side of the counter.
"Hey, what did I say, my friend?"
"It's nothing. This week has been really strange."
"You're telling me. I came in early today to get started on a little first of the year inventory and what do I find on the sidewalk?"
Reid shook his head. "I don't know."
"Some dingle berry in a pink tutu and toe shoes dancing with a panda bear. I told them I'd call the police if they didn't clear out."
"It's Las Vegas," Reid reminded him. "Strange is normal."
"You're telling me."
"Thanks again for the book, Archie."
"You're welcome," he drawled. "Maybe next time, you won't be such a stranger."
"I promise."
"Where have I heard that before," Archie complained.
CMCMCMCMCM
Reid took the book back to his hotel room. He wished it were a new book, but he'd read it when he was a kid and still had it in his head.
He decided to take another shower, put on a pair of sweat pants, and watch a movie on television. If he could think about something on the boob tube instead of three females that wouldn't get out of his head, he might find some peace and quiet.
When he was halfway through watching an old horror movie "New Year's Evil," he shut off the television. He couldn't concentrate on the movie because Rosa kept popping up behind his eyes. Maybe he should have taken her up on her offer to watch fireworks. It wasn't as if she was offering to take him back to her place for wild sex. It was just a date. He liked her, she was funny, she was in law enforcement and she was very pretty. She didn't take any crap from him and she seemed good with kids.
He put down the remote and picked up Peter Pan. His chest hurt a little when he thought about little Mary and her new parents. She'd seemed to like them okay. She didn't cry when they took her away, but what about now. What if she missed him?
She doesn't miss you. She doesn't have the cognitive abilities to miss you. She's just a baby.
He got up and began to pace the room. If only he could see her again and make sure, she was all right. He'd be okay if she knew Mary was happy.
Let it go.
He couldn't let it go, not just now, so he changed his clothes again and pulled on his coat and scarf. He was going crazy sitting there thinking about Mary and Rosa. There was only one thing to do about it.
CMCMCMCMCMCM
His old neighborhood looked different in the light of day with the sun shining down from a sky that was nearly white instead of blue. A cold breeze slapped at his face and ruffled his hair when he got out of the car. He breathed in the clean, cold hair and stepped around a Christmas tree someone had left at the curb to be picked up with the trash.
His old house looked the same as it always had when he came home from school or from doing food shopping for his mother at the corner market.
He walked up the walkway to the wooden front door and stood there for a long time. This was a mistake. He should just leave and go back to his hotel. It was none of his business and - he flinched when someone opened the door before he could knock.
"Dr Reid?" said Doris Goldstein.
"Yes ma'am… I know I should have called you and it's very rude for me to just show up but -"
"I'm glad you're here," she said. "Please come in. We have a bit of a crisis on our hands and I think you're just the one to solve the problem."