Exceptions to the Rule

by DeejayMil

College is turning out to be a strange time for everyone. JJ's grieving, Derek's depressed, Penelope's running, and Emily's a delinquent. At least David's happy just being himself, even if Aaron wishes he'd be a little less himself when Haley is around, and Spencer is hoping these people could turn out to be something he's never had before: friends. [Part 1 of New Beginnings]

4. Ulterior Motives

Chapter 4:
Ulterior Motives

.

.

The breakfasts were Penelope's idea at first, a sort of 'roommate bonding' for the two of them. JJ went along with it mostly for the guarantee of more delicious cooking and it only took three of these daily breakfast meetups in their room before Derek sniffed them out and claimed a place.

After that, it didn't really feel so much like 'roommate bonding' as it was 'dorm mate bonding' and then it only seemed natural that Spencer and, by association Emily, were both invited, even if it turned out that Emily was about as much of a morning person as JJ had expected her to be and her appearances were sporadic at best. At least, they were before Derek seemed to take it upon himself to drag the reclusive woman out of bed every morning and personally accompany her to Pen and JJ's room.

JJ saw the way Spencer—who hadn't missed a morning since they'd first invited him—lit up when he saw Emily slink into the room and figured perhaps Derek was doing it more for the kid's sake than Emily's. She also guessed that Emily was going along with it for much the same reason: to keep the tenuous peace between the two.

When David Rossi, who seemed to have unofficially declared himself part of their group, showed up one week with a container of pastries in his arms and Aaron Hotchner by his side as always, no one even blinked an eye. Aaron didn't always tag along but when he did he was always charming, always guarded. JJ made a point to smile when she saw him and, slowly, he relaxed.

It was a month into the breakfast routine after they'd been forced to move it to the common room due to concerns about their room's maximum containment capacity when she found herself standing to the side and observing the strange group of people before her.

Pen, who had never doubted for a moment that they'd become friends.

Derek, who was slowly recovering from not only the physical damage his knee had caused but the emotional fallout as well.

Emily. She still kept herself withdrawn from the group, never trusting them to help her with her troubles. JJ could see a friend there, knowing that they could be close if Emily would just trust them a little more. She also suspected that Spencer was probably going play a key role in that.

David, who had just shown up and fit right in as though there had been a space in the group ready and waiting for him. Their meetings were a little louder and a lot sillier since Dave had decided to be a part of them. He was the life of the party, but everything he did he did while carefully observing his friend: Aaron Hotchner with the shy smile and the tired eyes, always dressed impeccably. Would Dave have ever walked into their room that night if he hadn't been trying to cheer up his friend?

And Spencer. JJ looked at him, and her heart ached. Smart as a whip, but she could practically feel the loneliness radiating from him. He was the first to offer help with coursework, the first to leap up and suggest himself whenever any of them needed a favour. Trying to make himself integral to them so they wouldn't get bored of him and move on.

She knew how that felt.

She looked at them, this assembly of oddities, and thought that she couldn't have been more wrong when she'd started at this place and thought she'd always be alone. Instead of not making any friends at all, she'd made six.

.

---

.

There was a new bleakness to Derek. Spencer tried to be subtle about it as he observed the older student. He still joked with them, teasing the way Aaron dressed and the amount of sugar Spencer felt the need to have in his coffee. But the jokes came a little slower, a little thinner. He'd toned down on the flirting with Pen, something they'd all noticed. Spencer was sure the others had also noticed how much less their friend smiled now, even as the brace gave way to just a pair of crutches. Pen had happily stolen the new set of plain crutches on the first day Derek had hobbled into breakfast with them, adorning them with cheerful scribbles and charms that jingled as he moved. It meant they always had prior warning of his approach, but he didn't seem to mind.

Spencer knew his friends would have seen this, seen the slight withdrawal of their usually exuberant companion, but he wondered if any of them knew how much Derek was pulling back from his schoolwork.

Not his schoolwork, Spencer corrected himself. It wasn't essays and assignments Derek was running from; it was from a manifestation of his future that he wasn't ready to face yet. Derek wasn't sure that he still had a future, or at least one that didn't have him trapped in an office.

Right now, Derek was doing an admirable job of attempting to look focused as he flipped through the readings he'd had shoved at him, but Spencer could tell that he wasn't taking in any of the words. He could see all this, see the struggle the other student was going through, but he didn't know how to reach out to him, how to fix it. That wasn't where he excelled. That was more Pen's area, or JJ's. Especially JJ's. All he could do was continue to meet Derek at the library every week and try to tutor him through this rough patch.

"This isn't working," Derek said finally, closing the book with a snap. "I can't focus. We're just wasting your time."

Spencer could hear the unspoken 'I'm wasting your time, just like Emily said I would'. Words could cut deep, even when they were spoken in haste. Especially when spoken in haste. "It's alright, you're doing better."

He was trying to be reassuring, but Derek picked up his crutches and shook his head, cutting him off: "It's fine. We'll try again next week." Then he was gone, head bowed as his crutches tinkled merrily with his movements, a stark contrast to the dark mood that had settled around him like a storm.

Spencer hissed out his breath between clenched teeth, feeling useless, right before deciding on a desperately needed path of action: it was time to call upon higher forces.

.

Penelope Garcia (#104)

It didn't go well. SR. -

- Wt hppnd? Do I need 2 cme dwn thr? : /

He's given up. Why do you feel the need to torture me by texting like that? SR. -

- Wl tlk 2 him :P Suck it up prncss. Luv u

.

Dropping his old cell onto the table with almost reckless irritation, Spencer slumped next to it and pressed the back of his knuckles hard enough into his closed eyes that red lights danced in his vision. He slept badly as it was and slept worse when he was worried about his friends. But, looking on the bright side, he decided to take pleasure from the fact that he had friends to lose sleep over rather than feeling exasperated about his exhaustion.

His cell buzzed again, and he tried to tilt the screen to face him without lifting his head from the table.

It wasn't Penelope.

.

number unknown

- You look tired ;)

.

He frowned at the text, glancing around the library. No one appeared to have been watching him and almost every student had some sort of cellular device sitting near them. Not helpful.

.

number unknown

Who is this? How did you get my number? SR. -

- You sign your texts? How… appropriate for you.

.

Spencer stared at it, fingers tapping anxiously at the number-pad. What was he supposed to say to that?

.

Penelope Garcia (#104)

Are you by a computer? You can trace phones, right? SR. -

.

He sent the message and swivelled in his chair, trying to see if someone was watching him through the rows of books.

A bag dropped into the chair next to him and he almost dropped his cell in a panic as he whirled around to face it. The girl from the previous month, Taylor, smiled at him as she slid into Derek's vacated chair, taking in his startled expression and nervous grip on his Nokia. "I hope I didn't scare you too much," she told him, face shifting to concern. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to tease you a little."

Spencer laughed weakly, the noise sounded stupid even to his ears. "It's fine. Fine. That was you? Texting?" He held his cell up as though to illustrate the word 'texting.'

She raised an eyebrow at his awkwardness. "I hope you don't mind. I got your number from a friend you helped with homework once and, since you never texted me, I had to take the initiative."

His cell hummed in his hand for the second time that minute.

.

Penelope Garcia (#104)

- Of crse hndsme. Y?

- Spencer? Why? R U OK? Where r u?

- missed call: Penelope Garcia (#104)

- missed call: Penelope Garcia (#104)

.

"Sorry," he told Taylor, noting her eyes tracking his screen. "I just have to message a friend, I don't mean to be rude." His mouth felt uncomfortably dry as she smiled and shrugged.

.

Penelope Garcia (#104)

I'm fine. Don't panic, I'll tell you later. SR. -

.

He slipped the cell onto the table and sat upright, turning his attention to his companion. "I meant to text you, I just… time got away from me."

Taylor narrowed her eyes at him. "You mean you didn't text me because you weren't sure I meant it when I said next time?" He didn't answer her because that was exactly what he meant. She leaned closer and he could see her pulse fluttering under the skin of her neck. Swallowing nervously, he was pretty sure the way his heart was jack-rabbiting in his chest was audible. "Well, Spencer Reading, it's next time." Close enough now that he could see himself reflected in her eyes. "How about that coffee?"

His cell buzzed again on the table next to them and he tore his eyes away from her to look down at it, feeling vaguely out of his depth. Okay, a little more than vaguely. A lot more than vaguely.

.

Penelope Garcia (#104)

- Err. Too late. Don't be mad.

.

Emily Prentiss (#108)

- Who is that?

.

Taylor slid her hand over his cell and pushed it away from him, before dropping it to his thigh. He could feel the heat from her palm burning through his slacks.

"Come on, Spencer. Don't you trust me?"

.

---

.

Penelope (the colourful one)

- Somethings up with Spencer, hes in the library. Check on him please Em?

What's he done now? OMW. -

- I don't know. He txted me asking if I could trace a phone? He's such a unbeliever, of course I can trace a phone. PAH

.

Emily snorted, imagining Penelope's disappointed expression at the idea of Spencer doubting her. She was near the library anyway; might as well check in on the kid. After all, Penelope wasn't wrong—that was weird. Why on earth would Spencer be asking Penelope to trace a phone, of all things? For one, it was so goddamn illegal for Penelope to be doing that that Emily was surprised Spencer hadn't called the police on himself for suggesting it.

She sidled into the library, glancing about warily for him. She couldn't see him anywhere, but he could be cornered behind one of the stacks or in one of the side rooms. Pushing down her trepidation, she moved forward, carefully angling herself through the tables between chatting students and found him at the table he usually favoured when studying with Derek, but it wasn't Derek who was with him. Emily stared at the woman leaning into Spencer's space, one hand trailing provocatively along the kid's knee.

What the fuck. What the fuck?

She wanted to walk over there and slap the woman making Spencer make that stupid deer-in-the-headlights face. She wanted to shove the woman onto her ass and ask her what the fuck she was playing at, flirting like that with a minor?

He's sixteen, she thought furiously. Who flirts with a sixteen-year-old?

She pushed down her violent thoughts—anger issues? What anger issues? —and tapped out a message on her cell. It would probably be a good idea to at least give the kid some kind of heads up before she went in there like a bull in a china shop. After all, maybe there was a good reason that Creepy McCreepster was getting all up in the kid's shit. Maybe.

She really doubted there was.

.

Einstein

Who is that? -

.

Spencer glanced at his cell on the table, his hand twitching as though to reach towards it, but the woman slid her hand out and pushed it away from him. His eyes widened. His skin visibly paled.

That was fear. That was the kind of face people made when cornered.

Emily dropped all pretence of being nice. No one, no one, got away with causing that face on one of her friends in front of her.

"Who the fuck are you?" she spat as she charged forward without bothering to keep her voice down. Spencer jumped so hard at her sudden approach that the back legs of the chair tilted alarmingly, threatening to dump him into the wall. Emily grabbed the back of the chair with one hand and continued glowering.

"Em!" Spencer yelped, voice shrill. Guilty as shit. Shut up, Spencer, she thought savagely. Don't make this worse. "Hi! Em, hello! This is Taylor, Taylor, err…"

The woman stood and narrowed her eyes at Emily. Emily sensed dislike behind that stare. This Taylor absolutely did not like her. Which, although appropriate because Emily didn't like her either, was strange since she was pretty sure she'd never met her before.

"Just Taylor," the other woman said, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear with a careful flick of her hand. Emily hated people who fussed with their hair like that, trying to get a guy to focus on the skin revealed under the hair. And Spencer's eyes, like any other boy his age, hungrily followed her neckline. Emily kicked the chair, which toppled and spilled him out with a startled yelp.

"Oh shit," Emily said with overloud concern, moving to block the other woman as she tried to help him up. "My bad, sorry, Spence. Oh man, did you hit your head? We should get you to the nurse's station, get you checked."

He didn't fight her as she tugged him up by the shoulder of his baggy sweater, just looked confused. Some genius.

Slinging his bag over her shoulder, she scooped his cell into her pocket and tugged him towards the door. "Nice to meet you, Taylor," she called back over her shoulder. "Hope we meet again soon!"

At this point, she was pretty sure that if she made one more dramatic exit from the library with all eyes following her, they were going to ban her from the premises. She was also pretty sure that she and Spencer were going to have words when they got outside and, if she ever saw that cow near him again, she'd smack them both. If anyone knew what a woman looked like when she had an ulterior motive, it was Emily Prentiss. And that look on 'Taylor's' face?

That was one that Emily herself had worn all too often.