Dr. Spencer Reid walked out of the office with Agent Derek Morgan, analyzing old case files. So he obviously didn't see the young lady walking his way, studying a crude map like tomorrow's test, who, in turn, didn't see him. Morgan certainly could have said something, but why? It's not like Reid ever got out of his shell, right? A mild disturbance in his little world might do the kid some good. So Morgan was merely an amused spectator as the young lady and Reid bumped shoulders in the hallway, effectively causing them to drop their papers.
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry," the young lady cried, bending down to help gather his files.
"No, it's no problem," Reid replied in his quiet way.
The feminine stranger looked up, surprise apparent on her face. "Spencer?"
The young doctor snapped his head up. "Do I know you?"
She looked rather crestfallen for a bit, then embarrassed. "Oh. Of course you wouldn't remember me," she said, laughing a little. "After all, it's been what? Thirteen years? You know what?" She gathered the rest of the fallen papers, and handed them to him. "I didn't say anything, and you have a wonderful day." Then she stood up and walked away, leaving Reid kneeling on the floor, rather confused, and Morgan standing there looking after her. He watched as she stopped and look down at her hands, before muttering something and turning her body a bit. She seemed to think better of it before turning around completely, though, and continued walking.
Morgan turned back to his teammate. Reid was still on the floor, brow furrowed.
"How many people would call you 'Spencer?'" he asked.
"Not many. Just family, and JJ calls me 'Spence,' but I can't think of anyone... She looks familiar, but I can't quite place her." He looked furious with himself.
"Well, maybe it'll come to you later," Morgan said.
"Morgan, I have an eidetic memory. This doesn't happen to me. Ever."
"She did say thirteen years, Reid."
"Ever."
"Is this gonna bug you all day?" Morgan asked.
"Probably," Reid admitted.
"Okay," sighed Morgan. "Well, let's think. Where were you thirteen years ago?"
"I was in Vegas, doing high school."
"Maybe she's a classmate, then?"
"No, I don't think so. She's doesn't look that much older than me, and I can assure you, I was the only twelve-year-old there."
"Well, maybe she was a friend of someone you knew."
"Maybe, but," Reid trailed off, looking at one of the sheets of paper in his pile. "She left a map." He lifted it up a bit, so Morgan could see.
"Well, go give it to her," Morgan suggested.
"I can't tell exactly where she was headed, she hasn't marked this in any way. I think it's to a different floor. Besides, she might find her own way. Or she can ask somebody."
"I'm not sure, Reid. She could've asked somebody when she got here. But she didn't; she brought directions. And she kept her head down, using that as an excuse not to look at anyone. That suggests-"
"That she's uncomfortable talking to people she doesn't know," Reid finished. "But she called me by name, so she can't be too uncomfortable with people in general."
"And do you realize that while you're standing here talking to me, she's getting farther and farther away?"
"Well, what do you expect me to do?" Reid asked. "Call Garcia and have her track this woman down, and then just hand her the map?"
"You know what? That sounds like a plan."
Reid stared at him. "Are you crazy? I'm not going to waste Garcia's time finding someone who might've just decided to mess with my head."
"Mess with your head? Seriously?" Morgan asked incredulously. "What, do you think she purposely bumped into you, knowing who you were, and just decided to use your first name to get in your head?"
"Well, it is albeit unlikely, but not impossible."
Morgan just scoffed and pulled out a cell phone, speed dialing his favorite techie.
"You have reached Match-dot-com, just who are you looking for today?" came the cheery greeting on the speakerphone.
"Hey there, sweetheart, can you track down a girl for me?" Morgan asked with a smile on his face.
"Oh, sugar, I wasn't aware you needed help in that department," Penelope Garcia teased. "What's your type for tonight?"
"Very funny, girl, but the target is actually for Reid's benefit and she's already in the building. Just need you to find out who she is and where she's headed."
"Morgan," Reid protested. "Don't we normally hunt down people who act like this?"
"Anything to get that kid laid, honey," Garcia said. "Give me a description, and an idea of where she was headed."
"All right, let's see, she was, um," Morgan closed his eyes trying to remember the details. "Well, she's white, about 5' 9", glasses, curly dark red hair, wearing, uh, red T-shirt, dark blue jeans, carrying a-"
"Black Guess purse?" finished Garcia. "Got your girl. She's sitting on a bench just two corridors away from you, jotting something down in a notebook."
"See?" Reid said. "Probably writing my reaction to her notes."
"Don't be paranoid, kid."
"And the name of your girl is... Pause for dramatic effect... Katherine Suma, aged nineteen, resides in Phoenix, Arizona, has a younger sister aged fifteen, and no criminal record. She seems to be unemployed, but is taking classes at AZU."
"Well, then, what is she doing here?" Morgan asked.
"Suma? I know that name," Reid mused. "Garcia, check for any previous classes or residences in Nevada, and see if she's related to or seeing anyone here," he suggested.
"Oh, so you are interested, Reid?" Morgan teased, causing his partner to flush and stammer.
"Like I said, boys, anything to get him a gf. Okay, so according to her Facebook profile, she doesn't have a relationship status, but she is related to Joseph Simpson, a desk agent here in the Bureau. He's her mother's brother. But he is a floor below us."
"Obviously, she's lost," Morgan pointed out.
"And she had lived in Nevada before. Las Vegas for nine years, moved to Arizona in 1995 due to her father getting sacked at the high school he was teaching at."
"Wait," Reid interrupted. "What's the name of the father?"
"Uh, hold up, it's... Walter Suma, aged forty-five, occupation is math and science teacher in Arizona."
"That's it!" Reid yelled. "He was a teacher at my high school. But she's six years younger than me, how does she know me?"
"Well, here's an idea, genius," Garcia said. "Go and ask her. And show her the way to her uncle, she's probably meeting him."
Reid just stood there, processing what he was told to do. Morgan laughed, and pushed him a little to get him started.
Reid just walked over, not really understanding why he was going. Soon, he saw her, sitting on the bench, with an open book on her lap and a pencil brushing across it. Not writing, sketching.
Reid cleared his throat. "Miss Suma?" She jumped a little, and slammed the little black book shut.
"Oh. Um, sorry, you kinda..." she closed her eyes to collect herself, and opened them with surprise. "Wait. Do you remember me?"
He scratched his neck. "Um, not exactly. I remember your father. I kinda looked you up."
She stared at him. "What like a background check? Seriously?"
Reid looked at her. She was obviously very disturbed at her invasion of privacy, but also seemingly pleased. Probably at the thought he deemed her important enough to look up. Little confidence, yet a touch of narcissism.
"Um, are you here to meet with your uncle?"
Katherine nodded. "Yes, that's right. You wouldn't happen to know-?"
"It's a floor below you. I can take you over if you'd like."
She looked a bit surprised. "Um, you know what, actually? If you could just tell me, 'cause I wouldn't want to impose."
"Actually, that was just a ruse to get a chance to ask you how exactly do you know me?"
Katherine chuckled a little. "Haha, if you wanted to know that, I could tell you right now.
"My dad taught at your high school, and I liked walking over to see him when he was done. I was, like, six at the time, but that never stopped me doing anything I wanted to do before. Um, one time, I saw you getting beat up on by a bunch of older kids. I remember being furious at how unfair the fight was, and I ran to find my father. He broke up the fight and we dropped you off at your parent's house. I believe you earned a black eye that day."
"And a broken nose," Reid supplied, the full memory returning. He did indeed remember Professor Suma racing over to break up the fight, and the little brown curly-haired girl struggling to keep up. She had stood next to her father, concern and fear dancing across her face.
"You're Reid, right?" Prof. Suma asked. "Are you okay?"
Spencer held his nose. "I'll live, sir."
"How about I give you a lift home?"
"That's okay, sir, it won't be necessary."
"Are you sure?" the man pushed.
"If you're bleeding, you shouldn't move too much," the little girl piped up. "My mommy says that if you move too much, you'll lose too much blood, and then you'd bleed out."
Spencer looked at the little six-year-old. Prof. Suma smiled at his daughter, and said gently, "Hush, Kathy."
"Actually, it takes quite a while for one to die of blood loss via nosebleeds," Spencer stated. "It only seems like a lot of blood, but unless you're a hemophiliac, it's not fatal."
Kathy looked at him with curiosity. "What's achemophilia?"
"Okay, Kathy, let's get Spencer home, 'kay?"
"I thought your name was Reid?"
"That's my last name. I'm Spencer Reid. Teachers call students by their surnames."
"You mean last names," corrected the little girl. "I got an Uncle Reid, but I don't know his last name. My name is Kathy Suma. Well, actually, I'm Katherine Suma, but Meggie can't say that, so she says 'Kathy.' And her real name is Megan, but Mommy says Meggie is cuter. Do you have any brothers or sisters? Meggie is my only sister, and she's two. I wish I had a brother, too. Mommy said that she lost a baby before me, so I say that that baby is my older brother in Heaven. He doesn't have a name though. I call him Joseph. Do you think that's a good name?"
This entire time she was talking, Spencer was entranced. He couldn't understand how anyone could talk so much. He was so distracted, he didn't notice that the three of them were all walking to Professor Suma's five-passenger Nissan.
"All right, Spencer, in you go."
"You were quite the little chatterbox back then," Reid recalled.
Kathy flushed a bit, and chuckled in embarrassment. "Yeah, my dad said afterwards that I was the perfect distraction to get you in the car."
"Well, um, so your uncle. He is in the floor below, same way you got here."
Kathy looked a little disappointed, but the emotion was gone so quickly, Reid wasn't actually entirely sure he saw it right. "Right, well, thanks. And thanks for the chat. I don't do that so much anymore." And she left.
"Wait," Reid muttered. "Why not?" His mind started racing. What had happened to make that cheerful, out-going, talkative girl turn into an unconfident, stranger-shy, quiet young lady?
He looked up at her retreating back.
...
Well, not his problem.