Author Note – this is a spin off from my other stories Hindsight, Standing Up and Second Chances, you may want to read those first as they introduce Helen and her relationship with Spencer, butthey focus on Derek and Emily. This is for Tannerose5, who asked me to write their story. Sorry it's taken me so long.

Disclaimer – I don't own Criminal Minds or any of its characters, nor the poem or quotes that I use.

"You can shed tears that she is gone,
or you can smile because she has lived.
You can close your eyes and pray that she'll come back,
or you can open your eyes and see all she's left.
Your heart can be empty because you can't see her,
or you can be full of the love you shared.
You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday,
or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.
You can remember her only that she is gone,
or you can cherish her memory and let it live on.
You can cry and close your mind,
be empty and turn your back.
Or you can do what she'd want:
smile, open your eyes, love and go on."

David Harkins

Life Goes On – chapter one

December 2014

Spencer's opponent got up after losing the second game in a row to the young doctor, shaking his hand as he went. He had returned to the park a few months previously after taking a break from playing chess after Maeve's death. The only game he had played was the trans-Atlantic one he kept going with Emily since she moved to London.

In the year and a half since her death, Spencer thought a lot about the impact she had on his life in the short time he had with her. He would always have regrets about never meeting her till the day she died, never telling her he loved her, never been able to dance with her. He would be forever grateful for the support Morgan had given him since that fateful day in his apartment. As the older agent destroyed the vials of dilaudid, he snuck into his bedroom to get dressed. Listening to Morgan talk about his experience of dealing with Emily's 'death', about how he focused on finishing what Emily started as a way to honor her loss had led Spencer to think about the impact that Maeve had on his life.

She had been precious to him, and Spencer hadn't wanted to share her with the rest of the team. He knew sometimes he wasn't able to pick up on some behavioral clues when it came to women, and he had been scared the others, Morgan in particular, would make fun of him if he told them about Maeve. He didn't need to meet her to know he loved her. He had been addicted to hearing her voice, her laugh, even her breath on the other end of the phone. Spencer had often found himself drifting off to sleep replaying their conversations in his head, her lyrical voice soothing him. His Sunday routine had revolved around that short conversation they had every week.

Spencer found doing the things he associated with that routine after her death was too painful. So he stopped coming, stopped playing chess. He shut down.

It had taken him a long time to realize she wouldn't want him wallowing in mourning, would want him to live. In the first counseling session he had attended with Morgan, Spencer had written a letter, much like the one he had written when attending the group for his addiction to dilaudid. He'd addressed it to Maeve, promising to honor her life and the lasting impression she had left on his. She had come into his life trying to help him; she had left it loving him.

Maeve would want him to keep living, not locking himself away in his apartment. After the counselling sessions, his first steps had been to start doing the things he had stopped after Maeve's passing. He started going back to the park and after a few weeks of watching, his hands itched to play. The young man who had once encouraged him to return to the game, did the same again and invited him to play. That had been six months ago.

He started to set up the next game while he waited for another opponent to take the seat opposite him. He still had a few hours before he had to be at Morgan's for the team dinner. The scraping of wood on the floor on the other side of the table made him look up to greet the person standing there. Spencer smiled warmly for a moment before he took in her posture. The woman he had seen several times since he started visited the park stood there, her hand hesitantly placed on the back of the chair. He swallowed lightly as their eyes connected.

"Hi, my name is Helen, can I sit here?" She tucked a strand of her mousey brown hair behind her ear nervously.

Spencer could see she was scared as she tried to hide the rapid intake of her breathing. He smiled reassuringly at her as he gestured to the seat opposite him. "Of course."

She gave him a shy, but grateful smile as she quickly came around to the side and dropped herself into the chair. Her hands dropped to her lap, her fingers twiddling anxiously as she watched Spencer finish setting up the game. "My name is Spencer."

Helen nodded her head, acknowledging the introduction; her brown eyes were glued to the board between them. They began to play, Helen taking the first move. There was silence between them as their first aggressive exchanges easing into a steady pace. Spencer found himself drawn to the movement of her hands as they moved the pieces, her long slender fingers grasping the wooden figurines. All earlier hesitation was gone as she focused on the game in front of her.

Profiling was second nature to Spencer. From her behaviour, he deduced she severely introverted, but knew she didn't want to be. He hadn't seen her talk to anyone in all the times that she'd been at the park, nor had he ever seen her play chess before. Spencer had realised she knew how to play when they watched the same game, her eyes would dart to the next move that should be played. He hid his smile when she gave a small shake of her head if that move wasn't played.

As they approached their final moves, Spencer realised he had been too focused on his opponent to realise she had him in three. He made the inevitable move, and so did she. They slowly raised their gazes to one another. Spencer caught the small spark of victory in her eyes, before it disappeared when she averted her gaze to the table again.

Helen hurriedly went to move her chair backwards, and Spencer realised she had been spooked and she was running away, retreating back into the shell she created around herself. He found himself needing to prevent that from happening.

His arm reached out to her touching her hand lightly, not wanting to scare her. Her eyes shot to his as she stilled her movements. "Do you want to play again?" Spencer asked gently.

She stuttered nervously as she thought for a moment. Helen looked around them, seeing that no one was paying attention to them. With a wide-eyed expression still on her face, she sat back down returning Spencer's small smile as she breathed deeply again, hoping for the impending panic attack to pass. Helen had found herself drawn to Spencer since she had started observing the players in the park. His presence and focus was oddly comforting to watch, which was why she had approached him when she decided to play her first game in the park. Her therapist would be pleased with how she had done today, Helen felt proud of herself.

They played three more games that afternoon, before the alarm on Spencer's phone went off. He shot her an apologetic look as he turned it off. "I'm sorry, I have to go. My friends are expecting me."

"It's okay," Helen told him as he packed up the pieces. She was more relaxed now than she had been at the beginning. She began to gather her own things as he slung his bag over his shoulder. The awkwardness began to set in as they were both ready to leave. She hated these situations, and once again she felt the panic begin to rise within her. Luckily he saved her from it.

"Would you like to play again?" Spencer asked. Helen looked a bit confused as her eyes travelled over his bag, and obvious intention to leave. "I mean next week. Um, I get called away for work quite often, but if I'm here…" Spencer was suddenly nervous. His pulse was racing as waited for her response.

Her chest puffed slightly as she breathed in heavily. Helen had no idea where the compulsion came from, but she found herself nodding in acceptance of the offer. Spencer's responding smile made her stomach flutter, and she was slightly unnerved by the new sensation, a new confidence spreading through her.

"I'll see you soon," he said as he walked backwards for a few paces before Helen gave him a timid wave and he turned around fully to walk away. Helen watched for a moment before walking away herself, smiling softly at the turn of events. She would be back the next week.

'In life, unlike chess, the game continues after checkmate'

Isaac Azimov