A/N: Here's Part Three of the "How Much Does a Polar Bear Weigh" series. Thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed! I appreciate it, and I'm having fun with this series. It's a nice break from "Fresh Meat" when I need it. Please continue to read and review; it means a lot to me. So, without further ado, here's part three.

Spencer Reid watched his date from across the restaurant. She was playing with her Coke, swishing it back and forth and poking at the ice cubes with her straw. She looked so pretty in the sleeveless, lacy red blouse and black pencil skirt she was wearing, and he couldn't help noticing how the shirt and the dim restaurant lighting emphasized the red in her short hair. His work had kept him late, and though he'd called her to let her know, he was still trying to sum up the nerve to go up to her and apologize. She'd sounded rather disappointed when he'd talked to her last, and facing that disappointment face-to-face was a daunting prospect. After a few more minutes, he took a deep breath and strode over to the table. "Hey. Sorry I'm so late," he offered, slinging his ever-present brown messenger bag over the back of the chair.

Rachel looked up and smiled. "It's fine, Spencer. It's part of the territory with your job. I didn't mean to snap at you on the phone. It's just been a long day." He crossed to stand behind her and slipped his arms around her. She let out a sigh and turned her head to press a kiss into his arm. "I'm glad you're here."

He kissed the back of her head and released her. "Happy birthday," he placed a neatly wrapped gift in front of her, "Happy three months," he placed a velvet box on top of the present, "And I'm sorry I was late," he pulled a large, brightly colored bouquet of flowers from behind him and brought it around to set it on the table.

She gasped and looked up at him, her eyes shining. "Sweetie, you didn't have to do all this."

He pulled his chair closer to hers and sat down in it. "Sure I did."

She turned to face him and placed a hand on each of his shoulders. "Well thank you." She pulled him closer and planted a kiss on his cheek before turning to wave the waitress over. "First things first. I'll have the dinner with the teriyaki salmon and mixed tempura, as well as another tea, and he will have…"

She turned an expectant gaze on Reid, who handed the modified sushi order form to the waitress as he ordered, "The chicken-don and a bowl of miso soup."

The waitress, Tanya, nodded and left to put in their orders. Rachel watched her go, then whirled to face Reid. "I got you something too." She retrieved a package from under her seat and handed it to him. "Happy anniversary to you too. And I promise it'll be better than your birthday present," she teased, remembering the book she'd gotten him only to go to his apartment a week later to find that he'd already had two copies of it and had been too nice to say anything about it. She sniffed and shook her head with a smile. Reid shot her a questioning look, and she motioned to the gift in his hands, and he opened it and chuckled. Rachel grinned and slung the scarf around his neck. "I noticed you don't wear a ton of red, and I know you don't have one like this. I checked."

Reid shook his head. "No, no I don't. I love it. Thanks. Are you gonna open yours?"

Rachel's grin widened, and she shrugged. "Yeah, alright." She went for the big one first and delicately slid her finger between the layers of paper, tearing off the tape. Once she had all the tape disconnected, she pulled open the wrapping paper and began to laugh. She held up the red pashmina. "Great minds think alike, I guess." She moved to wrap it around her neck and jumped when a CD case fell out of it. She picked it up. The disc was clank, and she looked up at him inquiringly.

He hastened to explain, "It's a mix CD. I know it's a little weird, but it's just that every time I listen to the radio I hear songs that make me think of you, and I just thought I'd put some of those songs in one place for you…"

She giggled. "That's so sweet. But I never really knew you were the computer-y type."

"Well… the team's technical analyst helped me with that part. But I picked out all the songs," he assured her with a sheepish expression.

She smiled and hugged him. "Thank you." He hugged her back, entranced by the way she smelled—like flowers, and vanilla, and just a hint of fabric softener. She pulled away. "Mmm. You smell like all of my favorite things wrapped up in one," she sighed. "Like coffee, and old books, and minty toothpaste."

Reid stared at her for a moment, then shook his head. "Thanks. You smell pretty great, too. Now open the other one."

She reached for the velvet box and opened it, then frowned. "It's empty."

Reid furrowed his eyebrows and took the box from her. He inspected it, then held it up to the light. "I don't understand. It must have… Oh. There it is." He reached over and tugged on a silver chain around her neck.

Rachel looked down and gasped. "Hey! That wasn't there when I…" She paused and straightened. "You're good. I mean, when you said you were a magician, I thought, 'Well yeah, everyone's got some bar tricks,' but… wow. It's beautiful." Her gaze had fallen to the necklace again, and she picked up the pendant hanging from it. "It's not my birthstone."

"You don't like topaz," Reid answered nonchalantly.

She raised her eyebrows, impressed. "No, I don't. How'd you know?"

"I'm a profiler. And also, when I went with you to the mall that one time, every time we passed by a jewelry store, your eyes went straight to the jewelry with rubies in it, so I figured you probably liked those better," he explained.

She laughed. "I do. I really do. I've always been horribly jealous of people who were born in July and had ruby as their birthstone. Then they have an excuse to get it in their jewelry." Reid chuckled in response, and the waitress brought their food at that moment.

Reid noticed Rachel's gaze drifting over to the TV at the bar as they ate, and he commented, "You a Chargers fan?" Her face took on a repulsed expression, and he shook his head. "No. Patriots, then?"

She nodded. "I hate the Chargers. Probably because growing up, everyone loved them so much in SoCal. The Patriots are on the other side of the country, so I figured they were a great bet to make people mad at me," she laughed.

"I see," Reid's expression was priceless, and she burst into giggles. They finished dinner, and headed for the subway. They swiped their cards and waited for their train to arrive. "You could have driven yourself," Reid commented as Rachel, unable to find anywhere to sit, grabbed onto a pole in the middle of the car.

Rachel grinned up at him, her heels doing little to close the gap between their heights. "I barely get to see you as it is. If I'd driven, I wouldn't have gotten to spend as much time with you. It's not like you would have let me drive you home."

"Well, it's pretty out of the way," Reid shrugged.

She shot him a skeptical glance. "But you dropping me at my apartment isn't out of the way?"

He smiled. "Nope."

She giggled, and the train lurched to a start, causing Rachel to lose her balance and stumble into Reid, who put an arm around her to steady her. Her breath caught in her throat, and she looked up at him hopefully. He felt his heart speed up, and he tried to sum up the courage he'd been searching for for the past three months. He'd been wanting to kiss her, but the moment had rarely felt quite right, and when it did, his brain kicked into overdrive and began calculating all the probabilities of things that could go wrong, and in his mind, the chances of a mishap were high.

Rachel hadn't been in a relationship where she'd had to wait three months for a first kiss since high school, and she'd all but convinced herself that Spencer wasn't really all that interested in kissing her. She'd literally thrown herself at him just then, and he'd just caught her and helped her back up. His not wanting to kiss her was the only conclusion she could reach. She heaved a disappointed sigh and forced herself to make a list of things to do when she got home. She'd put the CD Spencer had made her in, pour herself a glass of apple juice, and then get to work correcting the senior honors papers on the first few chapters of The Tenant of Wildfell Hall. "Rachel? Hey. It's your stop. Come on."

She started and allowed Reid to lead her off the train and up to ground level. They walked slowly back to her apartment and up the stairs to the third floor. They stopped at her front door, and Reid bent down and placed a kiss in the middle of her forehead. "Good night, Rachel." The look of disappointment on her face was so unmistakable that Reid pulled away quickly. "Yeah… I have to go. Bye." He turned on his heel and strode quickly for the stairs.

Rachel watched him go and called half-heartedly, "Bye, Spencer." She let herself in and let out her breath in a loud, frustrated whoosh. Maybe she was going to have to make that apple juice a glass of wine. She flipped on the stereo and tossed the CD in it, then hit play. "So She Dances" by Josh Groban came on, and Rachel closed her eyes wistfully and began to dance slowly around the kitchen.

A knock at the door startled her, and she turned the song down and set her wine down on the table. She hustled to the door and a curious smile played at her lips when she saw who it was. "Hey—" Her greeting was cut short when he pulled her close and kissed her tentatively. She slipped her arms around his neck and leaned into him until he ended the kiss. She looked up at him expectantly. "Good?"

He smiled. "Great." And then he kissed her again.

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