We made it to my first class (Which happened to be Eric's first class as well) only 10 minutes late. The professor (a short, portly man with gray hair) was surprisingly lenient, and smiled at me kindly when we explained that I was a new student.

We took a few seats in the back of the auditorium, and halfway through the class, Eric was gritting his teeth and writing everything that the teacher said furiously.

I touched his arm lightly when the professor paused in his speech to take a question. "Eric? What's wrong?" I broached carefully. His body language was agitated, so I might have to choose my words carefully.

He looked up at me helplessly and muttered, "My strong point has always been Foreign language and History. Math is….. Not very nice. But, I'm a linguistics major, so I need to at least pass my Math credits."

I smiled at him, "I can help with that. I've always had a knack for math and science, I had to, to have a biochemistry degree. I can help you with your math, and maybe you can help me with foreign language?" Yes, I was a wiz kid. And yes, I had a photographic memory. That being said, I wasn't good at learning other languages. I had managed to learn Spanish though, but I had a good teacher in Las Vegas.

But, I was interested in learning a different language. Like Latin, or Italian. Plus, Eric might feel better having something to offer in return.

Eric smiled gratefully at me, "That would be great. We can go to the library after school?" I nodded to him, and we started to listen to the teacher again.

Criminal Minds

Eric showed me to my next class, Chemistry, and said something about going to his culinary class. He had been getting red as he told me that his mother had made him sign up for cooking classes as part of the 'deal' to come to this school. Mostly because 'Any self respecting man knows how to cook for his darling!'. I didn't laugh though, I just made him promise to bring me some of the outcomes.

After he scurried, yes, a 6'8 giant scurried, away, I turned and walked into Chemistry.

For the most part it wasn't bad, until the last ten minutes.

A blonde haired boy spilled his beaker on his hand. The beaker which just so conveniently happened to be filled with a very hot, flammable liquid. And said boy oh so conveniently threw his hand around in panic and just happened to put his hand near enough to the open flame that was still going from when we were supposed to (be safe) make the stuff in our beakers boil.

Also, said boy apparently needed to take his glove off to check his phone before lighting his hand on fire. And, said boy was right next to me, and also happened to be clumsier than me. He tripped over his chair and landed on top of me.

I yelped as I crashed into the ground with a flaming boy on top of me, who was still screaming. And now, a few other people had begun to scream as well, and the teacher was attempting to calm everyone down and fill a glass full of water to put the boy out.

I tried to shove said boy off of my stomach and use something to put him out; before I could, two massive hands that I recognized wrapped around my arms and yanked me out from underneath the boy.

At that time, the teacher had a glass full of water, and dumped it unceremoniously on the boy's hand.

The flame gave one last halfhearted sizzle, before relenting and going out.

I turned to thank Eric, who had arrived heroically to save me.

And he held out cookies with a grin. "You know, if you keep getting in trouble when I'm not there, I just can't leave you alone anymore." His blue eyes twinkled with humor and his lips were quirked up in a sly grin.

I huffed, taking the offered pink cookies, vaguely realizing that my hand was shaking violently, and replied crossly, "I didn't mean to get tackled by a flaming boy. He fell on top of me after lighting himself on fire."

Eric sighed and shook his head. Then he glared at the boy who was beginning to rise to his feet with the teacher's assistance.

The teacher looked at me, looked back at the boy, and started, "Miss Reid? Could you take," He glared at the boy, "This pyro, to the nurse's office? And perhaps get you checked as well, just as a precaution. I can see you shaking from here."

I sighed and spared a glance at said pyro.

When he fell on my ribs, he jarred them, and my brain might have connected that to what happened when I was Kiley-napped. I knew I was shaking because of anxiety. And shaking usually lead Spencer to panic attacks, so I needed to calm down before I did have a panic attack. Especially since I was fine. My brain just needed to realize that.

I had one panic attack since I was came back from the hospital. It was with Gibbs. We were eating in his kitchen, and he accidentally knocked his knife from his plate, and it had crashed to the ground near his foot.

I had frozen, my brain had seen that as a threat, and I don't remember what happened from there.

I came out of it, shaking and crying, collapsed in the corner, in Gibbs' arms. When I calmed down enough, he watched movies with me until I fell asleep. I woke up in my bed, and he didn't ask me about it again.

I had seen a 'shrink' and she did help. But I refused to let panic rule my life.

I took a deep breath through my nose, and let it out slowly through my mouth. Eric's hand rested lightly on my shoulder, his thumb traced light circles on the back of my neck and I calmed almost immediately. I would need to remember that.

I nodded to the teacher, "Sure. I won't mind."

He nodded and said, "I'll write up excuses for the two," He looked at Eric and corrected, "Three of you. Wait just a moment and you can go."

The boy was cradling his hand and was biting his lip to stop from whimpering. His green eyes were wide with pain, and his normally tan skin was splotched red from him holding his breath.

I softened seeing the look on his face. I sighed and rooted through my messenger bag before finding what I wanted. The medic in me always made sure to carry a small med kit with me at all times.

I picked up the small box triumphantly, and opened it to pull out some burn salve.

I reached out for the boy's hand, and after a moment, he held it out to me.

I gently rubbed some of the salve on his hand. "Luckily, it looks like a second degree burn." I said softly.

An intake of breath met my words, "What does that mean?" Came the quiet reply. The boy's voice was soft, and held a musical quality to it.

I sighed, "It means that it won't scar permanently. You usually get second degree burns from grabbing a hot pan. They stay for a while, but if you take care of them, they can fade. And, even though you tried valiantly, the flame didn't surround your entire hand. So you'll just have a burn on your palm and thumb."

I looked back up at him to see him watching me with dismay, "Will I be able to play basketball again?"

Oh. I should have realized that sooner. He was built for basketball, he was tall, a little taller than me, lean and well built, and he had a fast look to him.

"Yes. If you take care of it. That means leaving the burn open, applying burn medicine liberally, not stressing your hand, putting ice on it, and taking it easy for a week. You will be able to play if you are nice to it." I reassured him.

His face relaxed, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

He studied his palm and asked, "What did you put on it? It doesn't burn so much. In fact, it feels more cold than hot."

I showed him the medicine, then put it back into my bag.

"It dulls your pain nerves, that's why it feels cool. Your nerves were panicking as they were fried; but, the medicine calmed them down for the time being. Ice has the same affect. You might want to buy some later, I can tell you what to ask for at the pharmacy." I offered.

He nodded.

The teacher came back, and handed three slips to Eric, then shooed us out of the classroom.

Eric planted himself between the boy and I, and I had to suppress a smirk.

Mom once told me that I had a magnetic effect on different people, and they couldn't help but like me, or hate me viciously. I had laughed then. But with Gibbs and the NCIS team, Spencer's team, and now Eric. I was beginning to wonder if there was truth in what she said.

"So, pyro, what's your name? Mine's Kiley." I began.

Eric held up his hand, "I'm Eric."

The boy laughed nervously, "Uh, Jacob. Nice to meet you guys, I guess."

I snorted, "I would have preferred to meet you when you were not waving your fiery hand around in a panic."

Jacob's face reddened and he coughed, looking away from me.

Soon, we were at the nurse's office, and she went around, gathering what she needed, all the while muttering about 'stupid Chemistry students. I have to take care of one each week.'

I could barely contain my laughter, Eric kept coughing in an attempt to hide his, and Jacob looked scared.

She looked me over with a critical eye and huffed, "You can leave. There is nothing wrong with you."

I didn't need further prompting, and Eric and I left as fast as we could while Jacob called after us, "Traitors!" Then proceeded to yelp as the nurse smacked him.