Spencer Reid exited the elevator and slowly made his way to his fifth-floor apartment after a particularly difficult day of work. He wanted nothing than quiet, which was becoming increasingly difficult to find with his new neighbor across the hall. Out of all the apartment buildings available in the area, she not only had to select his apartment building as her new place of residence, but she had to move into the apartment directly across from him.

It didn't help much the she was, possibly, the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. Young, tanned, and blonde, she looked like a Barbie doll or the epitome of the stereotypical sorority girl. So along with the near constant mix of pop dance tracks and hip-hop beats, a string of suitors of the frat boy persuasion and her entourage of equally beautiful "sisters" rotated through her apartment at all times of the night.

She wasn't all-bad, she was open and friendly, but she was the kind of woman that looked through him rather at him, which she did when he asked her to quiet things down. She apparently didn't get the message.

However, tonight was different. The floor was silent and empty. He turned the corner, keys readily in hand to unlock the door, and was surprised to see someone quietly sitting on the floor against the wall opposite the door of his apartment.

"Excuse me?" he asked sharply. "May I help you?"

He instantly regretted his sharpness as his eyes met the face of the lounging young woman. To say she was beautiful would be an understatement. Her auburn hair contrasted beautifully against her milky white skin and her piercing eyes were a beautiful shade of blue. An amused smile graced her full rosy lips sending waves of relief through him that she wasn't offended by his off manner.

"No, I don't think so," she calmly replied. "I'm just waiting for Madison," his new neighbor, "to get here. She was supposed to put out the hide-a-key, but…obviously…she didn't."

Oh…I'm sorry. Do you know when she'll get here?

The young woman shook her head in response. Again, she gave him an amused smile.

Spencer didn't know how he should respond to this situation. He studied the young woman on the floor. She was wearing an olive green military style jacket and well-worn denim jeans. Besides her bags that he imagined held her cloths and other necessities, on one side of her she had a guitar in an old case with a collection of stickers of various artists randomly plastered on the outside and what looked like a sketchbook or writing pad on the other. He couldn't just invite her inside; she was a complete stranger that he knew nothing about. However, he didn't want to just leave her out there. He knew that she would most likely be safe, but how safe was most likely? He must have stood there debating himself longer than he thought because he was roused from his thoughts by her voice.

"Well, goodnight then, and thank you for asking."

"Asking what?" he asked.

"If I needed any help," she promptly replied.

"Oh yeah, you're welcome. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

It wasn't until after he was inside his apartment door locked and looking at her through the peephole that he realized that he never asked her name.

She was digging through one of her bags with her sketchpad open. He watched as she began scribbling something, writing or drawing, he wasn't sure which.

He stepped away from the door and walked down the hall to his cramped bedroom to change out of his suit, to try to exit his work world of torture, death, pain and step into a world of letters, books, and a lumpy sofa to try to find some comfort.

Spencer tried to avoid looking in the mirror while dressing, but his gaunt face couldn't escape his attention. He looked worse than sick; he looked dead – too thin, dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep, a sallow tinge to his skin. Certainly, there was nothing attractive about him to catch the female eye, especially one as beautiful as the one outside his front door. 'Guys like Morgan have it so easy' he mused to himself. 'All Morgan has to do is walk in a room and automatically half the women begin to buzz with interest…'

An unexpected knock on the door roused him from his jealousies.