And So It Begins
A CM fanfic Part 1 of a series
(Reid, Garcia, JJ, Prentiss. Reid/OFC )
K+
Thanks, as always, to Aut for the third eye, second word and first look!
Six Months Ago, late March 2018:
He didn't mean to stare and hoped she hadn't noticed but SSA Dr. Spencer Reid couldn't help himself. The auburn haired woman was fighting with her oversized purse, several shopping bags and a briefcase as she stepped carefully past several other commuters to sit down in the only unoccupied seat on the afternoon train. For just an instant, he considered getting up from his seat to help her with her packages but in the time it took him to make that observation, she'd managed to wrangle her possessions and was now seated across the aisle from him. The shopping bags sat on the floor by her feet, the briefcase lay across her lap and she was rummaging through the purse looking for something. He watched as she searched, and suppressed a smile as they each brushed an impatient hand through unruly hair simultaneously.
His keen eye took in all the details; no wedding ring on her left hand indicating she was probably single. Her shopping bags included one from Mastermind Toys so somewhere in her life a child played a significant role. The briefcase and the smart suit she wore told him she was involved in a career type position.
She was beautiful, he decided, observing her as she withdrew several envelopes from her purse. As she flipped through the letters, one fell to the floor. He waited for a moment, intending to bend over and pick it up. In his moment of hesitation, the auburn beauty realised she'd dropped it and retrieved it herself. Their eyes met briefly and Reid smiled slightly. She reminded him of the women in his life he considered to be family. Tall, like his friend and boss, Unit Chief Emily Prentiss. Bright-eyed like his best friend, SSA Jennifer Jareau. Ambitious like SSA Dr. Tara Lewis and caring like tech analyst Penelope Garcia. He watched as she carefully put the retrieved letter back in her purse and then decided he'd probably stared long enough and returned his attention to the copy of Fahrenheit 451 in his right hand.
"What the -?" she asked silently as she opened the largest of the envelopes in her hand. The manila envelope contained what appeared to be a student's term paper, but a quick perusal of the title page and first few lines told her that this paper was clearly not from one of her own English Lit students. The terminology—including words like perpetrator and motive and modus operandi—screamed law enforcement to her. The student's name was unfamiliar and he had unfortunately not included an email address or other contact information, save for the course number. She put it carefully back into the envelope and returned it to her purse. I'll have to call the university when I get home and see about rerouting this to the correct department, she decided. If it was a term paper and due today, she wanted to make sure it came into the right hands promptly. Sighing, she looked up and saw that the attractive young man she'd noticed earlier was now engrossed in reading her favourite Ray Bradbury novel.
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She'd never been to the FBI Academy building before and the thought filled her with curiosity and a touch of nervousness. As she walked up the steps to the front entrance, several cadets in full uniform marched past her and it occurred to her how difficult it must be to become a law enforcement agent. Smiling at the recollection of her phone conversation with the Criminology Faculty office administrator, Mandy Elford, yesterday afternoon, she opened the door and made her way to the Criminology Department on the first floor.
The nameplate on the desk read Amanda Elford and she was certain she was at the right location and breathed a sigh of relief.
"Mandy?" she verified nonetheless.
"Samantha?" Amanda Elford rose from her seat and Samantha noticed the woman appeared to be about six months pregnant. She extended her hand to the office Admin and smiled.
"That's me." After shaking hands, Samantha offered the manila envelope to Mandy. "And this" she waved it as she handed it over, "is apparently Devin Sanford's term paper."
"Mr. Sanford will be happy to find out he's not facing automatic failure. Although personally," Mandy took it from her and pausing for emphasis, lowered her voice to a whisper, "I think there should be some deduction for not ensuring the paper had the proper contact information on it in the first place. He's lucky Dr. Reid is so accommodating."
Samantha chuckled and shook her head, "I'm not that accommodating."
Mandy looked at the outside of the envelope and broke into a laugh. "Oh my God, this is hilarious."
Samantha's brow furrowed.
"It's addressed to Dr. Reid," Mandy pointed out. "Dr. S. Reid."
Samantha made a face. "I know, that's why I found it so puzzling. I don't teach Criminology. I'm an English Lit prof. The closest I come to Criminology is the chemistry PhD I hold."
Mandy laughed and choked and stopped laughing. "Dr. S. Reid. Doctor Spencer Reid," she specified, "has been guest lecturing for about half a year now."
Realisation dawned on both of them and they both laughed. "Well in that case, you're right, Mandy. Mr. Sanford should have addressed this more clearly. It ended up in my mailbox! How was I supposed to know I'm the wrong Dr. Reid?"
"You're not wrong. Just not the correct Dr. Reid for this paper," Mandy amended. As they giggled over the coincidence, the office door opened and Dr. Samantha Reid's jaw dropped.
It was the attractive Bradbury-reading young man from the metro the previous day.
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Present Day, October 2018:
He hadn't asked her about it yet, but it was October after all. Walking home from the Farmer's Market in the square down the street from his apartment, Spencer wondered if he could be making plans for Halloween with Samantha this year. It was his favourite time of year, something she was well aware of and the thought of spending it with her brought a huge smile to his face. He shifted the large pumpkin he was carrying from one arm to the other. I'll ask her tomorrow, he thought as he took his keys from his pocket and let himself into his apartment building.
Samantha shuffled the papers she was holding, moving the folders to the back of the pile and keeping one letter in particular on top. It was addressed to Dr. S. Reid, Marbury University and had a return address that was unfamiliar to her. She laughed, wondering if it was yet another paper meant for Spencer and made a mental note to ask him to remind his students once again to be more careful in the future. This time though, she wasn't going to open it. This time, she figured, it was going to wait until she saw him tomorrow. Lunch, she smiled; they'd arranged to meet for lunch at the faculty cafeteria the next day. She waited as the person in front of her paid for his coffee and then approached the Starbucks barista with her own order. After the long day she'd had, a treat was in order and she'd stopped in at the nearby coffee shop on her way home from work.
In the line behind Samantha stood a colourfully dressed woman wearing clunky high-heeled shoes. She noticed Samantha shuffling papers as she reached the front of the line. Adjusting her glasses, she checked her cellphone and then hefted her oversized purse from one shoulder to the other as she waited her turn.
Samantha's Vanilla Latté Grande was ready and she retrieved it and then made her way past the other waiting customers. She paused at the condiments station to grab a few napkins. Setting her purse down on the counter, she placed the folders into it with the letter she believed to be for Spencer still on top. After procuring the napkins, she picked up her latté and headed out the door.
The colourfully dressed woman glanced over at Samantha and gasped when she saw the letter sticking out of the purse. Quickly stifling her gasp, she abandoned her place in the line and followed Samantha out the door and down the street.
"Damn shoes," she muttered. She bent down to remove them, irked by the impediment to her progress. As she fought with the buckle on the second shoe, she looked up several times, anxious to not lose sight of the auburn haired woman. Finally free of the shoes, she picked them up and hurried down the street after her quarry.
Samantha crossed the street at the light and walked the block south to her apartment. The colourfully dressed woman watched from a discreet distance as Samantha swiped her access card and entered the building. After the door closed, the barefoot woman approached the lobby and checked the resident directory. Again she gasped in surprise.
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"Dammit!" Reid complained aloud as he scrambled around his apartment looking for his messenger bag. He ran back into his bedroom and then recalled he'd been looking for a Poe book the last time he remembered having the bag. Hurrying back to the library area of his apartment, he spied the bag laying on the floor next to his chess table and realised it must have fallen from the chair at some point.
Grabbing the book from the desktop, he shoved it quickly into his messenger bag and ran to the door. "I'm going to miss the damn train!" he swore as he wrenched open his apartment door. Realising he was without a suit jacket, he swore again as he detoured quickly to his bedroom to retrieve the jacket.
Now later than ever, he practically ran down the stairs, out the door and across the street to the metro station, narrowly missing being hit by a car in his haste.
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"A skinny vanilla latté and a double espresso please," Samantha ordered. As she waited for their drinks, Samantha reflected on the past few days. Once again, one of Spencer's students had mislabeled his term paper and it had made its way to her mailbox. Fortunately for criminology student Ron Taverstock, Samantha just delivered the wayward paper to Spencer the following afternoon and the two of them had had a good laugh. He followed her advice and told his class that any further term papers needed to be addressed to Dr. Spencer Reid because "in the real world, it is imperative that reports, as well as evidence and anything else, be clearly labeled. In the future, there will be automatic deductions for any assignments that come to me via redirect from the other Doctor Reid." She laughed as she thought about it and was still laughing when her order was called.
As she walked through the Starbucks holding their coffees, she passed by the same colourfully dressed woman she'd seen several days earlier. This time, the lady was wearing a floral print dress with décolletage and a clunky red-stoned necklace along with bright red pumps. Careful not to make eye contact with her, Samantha walked by her and exited the store.
Again the woman abandoned her own place in the coffee line and followed Samantha out the door. Thinking she was discreet and unnoticed, the woman trailed her to the subway concourse. She watched as Samantha swiped her SmarTrip card and entered through the turnstile, making her way towards the Blue Line stop.
"What? Where is she go—" she muttered under her breath. She pursed her lips and her brow furrowed as she watched Samantha disappear down the escalator to the train level. Heaving a sigh, FBI tech analyst Penelope Garcia abandoned the chase and returned to the Starbucks. Hurriedly, she ordered and paid for the six drinks and then made her way to her car and headed to work.
A short time later, a still-agitated Garcia stepped off the elevator on the sixth floor of the FBI building that housed the Behavioural Analysis Unit and hurried to her office. Already waiting for her there was Special Agent Jennifer Jareau and Garcia quickly closed and locked her door behind her.
She set down the tray of coffee cups; sorted through them until she found the one she was looking for and picked it up, handing it to JJ.
"Thanks, PG," JJ told her and narrowing her eyes, asked, "What's up? I can see you're," she paused to sweep a hand in the direction of the now-locked door, "you're on about something Pen."
Garcia took a moment to calm herself and met JJ's eyes. "I think. I think. I don't know what to think. JJ. The other day," she paused to slow her breathing down, and gestured with her hands. "Okay. The whole thing. The other day I stopped at Starbucks as I often do to get a coffee. Actually, a soy latté. Whatever. Not important. What's important is what and who I saw."
She paused. JJ looked at her expectantly.
"Okay. There was a woman. A nicely dressed, professional looking, dark red haired woman. Taller than you or me but not quite as tall as Em. She was getting a latté. And she had letters in her hand, which she stopped to put in her purse. And one of the letters was addressed to," Garcia paused for effect, "Dr. S. Reid at Marbury University."
JJ's eyebrows rose.
"She has Reid's mail, JJ!"
A smile curved at JJ's lips. "You were pretty observant, Pen. Got a pretty clear description of this woman."
"There's more! I followed her. Followed her to an apartment building not far from the Starbucks. She swiped in and I waited, and then checked out the tenant directory. There's an apartment there belonging to an S. Reid."
JJ's eyes grew large. "Okay, but Spence still lives at that Hoover Street building he's been in for years, Pen. I took the boys over there to visit him just a couple days ago. Henry wanted to see Uncle Spence for his birthday."
"Okaaaaay. But this morning I saw her again. And this time when I followed her, she went to the metro station and got into the line for the Blue Line south."
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The train screeched to its next stop and was beginning to fill. Samantha worried she wouldn't be able to save the seat beside her without a confrontation with another commuter for much longer. Her briefcase and purse sat on the seat by the window next to her and she let out a sigh of relief when nobody approached her about it at this stop.
A few minutes later, the train stopped again at the next station and she smiled when her eyes lit on the sight of Spencer entering the car. He found her quickly and as she moved her bags out of the way, he slipped into the seat beside her.
"Hey. Hello to you," he smiled, airbrushing a kiss against her cheek and accepting the Starbucks cup from her. "Thank you!"
"Hi yourself," she respected his uneasiness about public displays of affection and patting his hand lightly. "You're welcome. I know how much you need your caffeine in the morning."
He laughed lightly and sipped at the drink, letting out a satisfied sigh. "Mmmhhhmmmm," he murmured appreciatively. They drank their coffees and talked amicably about several things as they rode towards Quantico together. After another four or five stops, most of the other commuters had departed leaving only Spencer, Samantha and a handful of others on the train.
"Spence, there is something I wanted to tell you about," Samantha's tone grew serious. "I mean, I hope it's nothing, I hope I'm just seeing things that aren't there."
"That's not likely, Sam," he soothed, "You're not the melodramatic type."
"I hope you're right. It's just. Well, the other night, at the Starbucks, I got the impression that someone was following me when I left the store to go home. I didn't think much of it at the time."
"You were followed?" Spencer tried not to be alarmed but instantly, he was on high alert.
"I don't know. Maybe. Probably not. It just felt. Weird. I wouldn't have given it a second thought except that the same person was there in the Starbucks again this morning when I was getting these," she gestured to their drinks. "But lots of people have that kind of routine, right?"
He nodded, but was obviously deep in thought, analysing what she'd told him. Alarm bells went off in Spencer's mind. Memories of a previous stalker of a previous girlfriend left him shaken and he moved closer and drew Samantha into his arms.
"Spence?" she asked, growing alarmed now at his apparent level of concern.
He held her tightly, PDAs be damned. "It just, it's," he bit his lower lip, "I hope it's not related to my work. This has happened before, Sam. And I'm gonna get you a Security Detail right away."
She recalled a conversation they'd had months ago and as she remembered, whispered "Maeve."
He nodded, squeezed her close again and said, "I'm not letting that happen again. Not to you. Not to anyone. Never again."
She nodded and snuggled against him. Comforted that he didn't think she was being a drama queen, Sam also assured him she felt safe with him and certain that the Security Detail would keep her safe.
"We can move you into Protective if it becomes necessary," he told her. Pulling his cellphone from his pocket, he clicked it on.
"I'm just gonna call Emily and have her get you the Security Detail." As he waited for the call to go through, he turned to Samantha and asked, "Can you describe your stalker at all?"
"Well, the first day, she was wearing this really colourful dress. It had a lot of pink and teal in it, on a white background. And she was wearing these really clunky high-heeled platform shoes. Lemme see, she was about five seven, I'd say. She had bleached blond hair and big red-rimmed glasses. When I saw her this morning, she had a floral print dress on with red pumps and a chunky red-stoned neckl—"
Samantha paused as she caught the look on Spencer's face. She watched as he clicked off his phone and put it away and was puzzled by the action. Lifting her eyes to meet his, she noted his raised eyebrows and look of illumination.
"What is it, Spence?"
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