I let out a lengthy sigh as I shuffled through all the papers that were now completed. Moving the last twelve papers to the completed stack I stood up, finally after another grueling day of paperwork following an important case, finally it was time to go home. Home to what? An empty apartment building, television, food? I had to face facts my home was just a shell, empty, desolate, meaningless.
"Leavin so soon, Boy Genius?" a familiar voice called down to me. I flashed my eyes up towards the balcony where Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan.
"Uh, yeah, I'm going to cut out. I finally got that paperwork done," I replied.
"Ah, I see, just thought you were going to fly on outta' here without tellin' me goodbye?" Morgan questioned, his mouth stretched into a wide grin. I flipped a piece of hair from my eyes as my face flushed. "Relax Reid, I was just messing with you, have a good weekend, get some sleep kid," Morgan flashed me another pearly white smile before settling down at his desk to finish his meager stack of paperwork before departing himself.
"Bye guys!" I quickly called over my shoulder, a chorus of "see ya Spence, or bye Reid" filled my ears. I smiled, now this was home. The Behavior Analysis Unit, this magnificent government building, stuffy as it may be, was my home. Anywhere else and I just felt out of place. I walked down the steps quickly my hands jammed into my pockets, khaki messenger bag slung across my chest. In my bag a floppy dog eared and much loved copy of Chaucer's The Canterbury Tales lay, along with a few other books. I had been itching for a good read for a few weeks now and I knew I probably should find one before another case popped up. Plane rides could be so troublesome and boring, especially if they were long.
I got into my car and drove aimlessly through Dale City not really wanting to go to my apartment and hole up for the evening. I let my car idle outside of this small café, it looked homey and something about the title caught my eye, "The Restless Traveler." "Hmm, sounds promising," I said to no one in particular. I parked near the back of the brownstone building. When I had crossed the threshold of the small café, I was pleasantly surprised by the many aromas that greeted my nose. Mocha, cinnamon, vanilla, and another warming scent that I failed to recognize.
"Hi there, what can I do ya for?" An ecstatic voice hollered from behind a dark caramel marble counter.
"Uhm, just a coffee please," I stammered surprised by the girls boisterousness, especially in such a mellow environment.
"Alrighty, you look like you want to be left alone, maybe something a little more secluded for you, then?" The waitress said coming out from behind the counter. She led him to a small one person booth in a tiny alcove. I thanked her before sitting down and ordering what she referred to as "their special." Some strange concoction of coffee that in her words was "sure to delight any person's sweet tooth." And a sweet tooth I did have. I looked around the tiny dining area; it seemed to me that it was mostly empty, except for one other patron seated in front of a window.
A young female with dark chestnut hair, that although it looked dark, seemed to burn a deep red when illuminated by the sunlight. She nibbled on her nail as she turned the page of whatever book she was currently engaged in. The woman was very…beautiful. I could not but help to feel a pang in my heart, she almost reminded me of Lila Archer, an old flame who I had not spoken to except by email in months. The waitress placed his sugary drink in front of me. I thanked her quietly before taking out my much loved copy of The Canterbury Tales. I always read this book when I missed my mother, or when it felt like guilt was consuming me for not visiting her more often.
I began reading, flipping page after page, completely engrossed in the novel. Nearing the end of the novel, the hair on the back of my neck began to raise in alarm; I waited cautiously trying to assess the danger. Someone had crept up behind me. Now, I could feel their breath on my neck…
"…On every bough the birds heard I sing, With voice of angels in their harmony; Some busied themselves birds forth to bring; The little coneys to here play did hie. And further all about I could see the dread filled roe, the buck, the hart and hind, Squirrels, and beasts small of gentle kind," A female voice recited in my ear, her breath tickeling the back of my neck. Her wispy, airy, melodic voice breathed new life into the poem. I turned around sharply, a stunned look coming across my face as the realization of who the mystery voice was. It was the beautiful lady patron I had spied from across the room. My heart leapt into my throat.
"Y-you k-k-know Chaucer?" I managed to stammer out.
"I know lots of things," The girl said laughing slightly. "I was hoping you would recognize that, Parliament of Fowls, one of my favorites."
"But, how did you know I was reading it?" I said somehow managing not to stutter.
"I read your lips, silly goose, you're very obvious."
I was incredulous, how? I was on the complete other side of the room behind her, she would have had to have been watching me…and intently by the looks of it. I crossed my arms across my chest. Anxiety fogged my brain, how long had it been since I had had an interaction with someone that was not case related?
"Did you know that Chaucer's the Parliament of Fowls is widely considered the first," Spencer was cut off mid sentence.
"—the first St. Valentine's Day poem ever written, it is suggested that it begun in May of 1382 and was," This time I cut her off.
"—believed to have been completed in 1383 for Valentine's Day as suggested by,"
"Brewer," She said finishing for me, her cerulean eyes danced with mirth.
"Spencer," I said excitedly throwing out his hand, smiling widely. "Uh, what I mean is I'm Spencer—Dr. Spencer Reid…er, Spencer Reid…Uh..you can call me Spencer," I finished lamely. Great, way to go Spencer, a beautiful girl talks to you for once in your life…well twice counting Lila but still, you have to go and sound like a complete nerd. Cool.
"Interesting, you look kinda' young to be a doctor, my name is Adriana; Adriana Selke," She said grasping my hand in a surprisingly firm shake.
"Actually, they're PhD's…three of them," I said smiling as her eyes lit up with wonder.
"Wow, that's impressive, I bet you think you know everything?" She challenged mischief glowing in her eyes as she tossed her long locks of wavy hair over her shoulder.
"Not everything per se," I replied wittily.
"The word "lethologica" means?" She asked.
"It describes the state of not being able to remember the word you want."
"Mario, of the SuperMario brothers came to fame as who in what popular arcade game of the time?" She prompted. My brain whirred digging for the information, it came nimbly.
"He was JumpMan, in the arcade edition of Donkey Kong but was changed to Mario because…?" I asked turning the tables.
"Because they wanted to honor the Nintendo of America's landlord, Mario Segali," She finished with a smug smile.
"The three best-known names in western China are?" I prompted
"Jesus Christ, Elvis Presley, and Richard Nixon," Adriana responded back effortlessly.
"That I did not know." I grinned wider, "Every year the human body replaces—"
"98% of its atoms," Adriana's tinkling laughter filled the room.
Whoa, I could almost not believe this was happening, I fought the urge to pinch myself. The bell tolled as a gentleman in a black suite entered the café, Adriana looked behind her a frown crossing her delicate features.
"Well Dr. Reid, I must be going, "Adriana said her voice loosing its enthusiasm. My heart dropped through my toes; who was this gentleman. A lover? No, the way she stood in contrast to him wasn't a stance of affection. In fact, she barely acknowledged his presence at all. The man on the other hand stood stiffly, on alert, scanning for possible threats. He had that look of a hardened veteran, a look he had seen mirrored in his own face as well as the faces of many of the agents with whom I worked.
"Uh, it was nice meeting you Adriana," I said slowly; depression was evident in my tone.
"And I feel the complete same Spence." The way she said "Spence" had the oddest effect on my body, almost as if I were being lifted up into the air.
"Shall we go Cedric?" She said turning to the gentleman disappointedly. He grunted a reply and the twosome walked off. Don't just let that girl walk off, a voice seemed to scream at him in his mind.
"Uh, wait, Adrianna, will I ever see you again?" I called out to her retreating figure. I tried not to sound as hopelessly as I felt. She turned back, that smile and warmth flooding back into her eyes.
"Perhaps, Spence, perhaps…that is…" Her voice trailed off. She abandoned Cedric's side and came bouncing on over to me, a new light in her eyes.
"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Lead me, save me from my solitude. Say you want me with you here, beside you. Anywhere you go let me go too." She smiled a smile so sincere in its beauty that it took my breath away; her words made my head spin. I barely had time to ask her why she was quoting The Phantom of the Opera before she flounced out of the café.
"Phantom…Phantom of the Opera…Gaston Leroux…." My mind whirled as I tried to sort out all that she had said…well more like recited. It was a perfect recitation of what Erik, the phantom menace of the Parisian Opera house had told to Christine Daae, the misguided actress. I flipped open my phone hitting my speed dial.
"Hello and welcome, you may speak to your Goddess if you are worthy, mortal," A sultry voice resounded from the phone.
"Hey Garcia, it's Spencer, I need you to do me a favor," I asked the quirky technical analyst.
"Anything for you Wonder Boy," She sang into the line. I rolled my eyes.
"Do you know of any opera theatres close to the Dale City area? And if so, are any of them having a current production of The Phantom of the Opera?" I asked quickly. A few seconds later I was met with Garcia's voice. "Done and done, sugar lips, The Washington National Opera is now playing their production of Gaston Leroux's Phantom of the Opera. Oh wait, scratch that love, they're opening night is next Saturday at seven o'clock p.m," Garcia responded happily.
"Thanks Garcia, you're the best!" I answered.
"Oh tell me something I don't know," Garcia replied a smile evident in her voice.
"Oh and Garcia, can you book me a ticket please."
"Oh Reid, I didn't know you were the opera type," Garcia teased.
"Usually, I'm not, but I have to see her."
"Her who?" Garcia questioned.
"My soul mate," And with that I hung up, paid for my coffee and practically floated all the way back to my car.