"I'm not a survivor, you just won't let me quit"
They met at a bookstore, and they fought for the last copy of Wuthering Heights. More realistically, Alexia yelled and Spencer tried to calm her down. It was kind of scary for him. There were textbooks and first-person advice on how to talk down serial killers and abductors. There was not, however, advice on talking down a determined 20 year old girl who was about to deck him over a paperback. She ranted for about twenty minutes before pushing her hair out of her face and sighing.
"Look, I don't even want the fucking book, I just need it to pass a class."
"I'll give you the rundown if you'll stop yelling at me?"
"Make it enough for me to write a paper on and I'll buy you coffee?"
Spencer smiled and took the book off of the shelf.
"Deal."
"What kind of coffee do you like?"
"Black."
Alexia looked at him and bit her lip.
"There's a café behind the romance section, but there's a diner down the street. Great coffee, better breakfast, y'know?"
"That's fine." Spencer pulled his scarf around his neck before continuing, "I should probably pay for the book first."
Alexia grinned. "If you insist."
Spencer paid for the book and Alexia insisted on driving there to save them walking time. Her car was nice and neat, but when she went to put her purse in the trunk, he saw that she had a two duffel bags and a wig shoved in there, along with three books and her purse.
They warmed up on the short drive to the diner, and when they got out of the car, their breath was fogging up the air.
"I'm Alexia, by the way. Alexia Pallas."
"Spencer. Technically, Doctor Spencer Reid."
She smiled at him and shook her head. "And here I am buying you breakfast to get out of reading a book for a course at a school I'm dropping out of."
Spencer opened the door for her, and when they sat down, and got their coats off, he pulled the book out.
"Why are you dropping out?"
Alexia shrugged as she looked over a vinyl menu. "Can't afford it, can't be bothered, and it's cutting into the time I'm need to dance."
"You dance?"
"Hip hop, but I started off in ballet when I was about three."
"I can barely stay on my feet standing still."
They both laughed and when the waitress came by, they got coffees and waters.
"So about the book," Spencer started, running his fingers over the spine. "What exactly do you need to know."
"In depth summary of the character relationships and examples of similar ones in popular culture."
Three hours and a few pots of coffee later, Alexia had the character relationships part of her paper done. When she had paid the bill and left a tip, she offered to drive Spencer home.
The ride there was long and the traffic was unusually horrendous for a lazy Saturday afternoon.
"I'm guessing some kind of speech." Alexia said, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. "Maybe a riot."
"Pardon?"
"There's never this much traffic. Sure, there's always traffic, but never let's sit while our cars slowly freeze to the road much."
"There's always lobbying going on, and then there might have been an accident."
Alexia smiled at Spencer and turned down the radio.
"We may be here awhile." She paused for a second and inched the car forward. "Tell me about yourself."
Spencer thought for a minute. "I'm from Las Vegas, and these winters are horrible. I work for the FBI, and I have 6 degrees."
"What are they in?"
"Doctorates in Math, Chemistry, and Engineering, and BAs in Psychology, Sociology, and Philosophy."
Alexia nodded, and they moved forwards ten feet. "What do you do for the FBI?"
"I'm a profiler; my team and I go around the country and use our expertise on different subjects to hunt down serial killers, abductors, bombers; bad people like that."
"Sounds serious." Alexia thought for a second, "And I dance."
"You said hip hop right?"
"Yeah, but I've done just a bit of everything."
"What haven't you done?"
"Tap. Jazz. Interpretative dancing to slam poetry."
They chatted on and on for a while, and Spencer got a good look at Alexia laughing and smiling. There was a gap between her top two teeth, and a metal winking from inside her mouth, somewhere. Her hair was up in two buns at the top of her head. The sides of her head where buzzed short, and the hair that was left was a whirlwind of pinks and blondes.
He was sure she was pretty, but he kept doubting whether or not he should make a move.
It took another half hour for him to get home, but that half hour was nice. He had learned about her family and her friends, and she had gotten a quick breakdown of his friends as well. When she pulled up at his building, she stopped the car.
"Do I get to see you again, Spencer?"
"Depends." The corners of his mouth turned up in a smile, and Alexia handed him her phone.
"Give me your number and we'll go out sometime?"
"Sounds like a plan."
They swapped numbers, and when Spencer got out of the car and into the cold, February air, he realized Derek Morgan might not believe he picked up a girl over the first popular ghost story.
