Thank you all for the wonderful reviews. It really means so much. Also M pointed out that I have been making an error, which I now realize. Maeve probably wouldn't be calling Spencer, Reid so form this point she will be calling him Spencer or Spence. Also M, I have received all your reviews and all that you have said is so wonderful. Thank you! Thank you everyone with the amazingly kind words! They make my day! :)
(Sorry for the long authors notes, hopefully they won't be a regular thing)
Please Enjoy!
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Chapter Six: Too Much? Never Too Much
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What was the one thing that was going to be a hazard between Maeve and Spencer? Hmmm. Any ideas?
Well some couples have the problem of having too much clothes, others maybe to many CD's and movies. For those people, their problems could and would be classified as normal. Ordinary.
For Maeve and Spencer it was clear something would have to be done, for while their small house was build for comfort and could stand many things, it was clear that they would not be able to fit all of their books.
Together, they had a rough amount of 732 books, not including the sparingly magazines that had been found.
This was a problem, or a task for many.
The team was called in. Books and books piled high, to where an end could not be found, towers and towers of hard back, and paper back all adding to the clutter.
It was both unbelievable and extraordinary.
To hold a collection of books of this grand proportion would prove difficult.
There small home would surly not be able to fit each and every one, and none could be forgotten as they were all beloved.
There was one book however, that would not pose as an inconvenience. It wasn't that it was small, nor whether from many reads but that it was the sole foundation of all the books around.
The most important and beloved amongst the rest.
One in which would never pose as an inconvenience.
It was placed on the crook of the large bookcase that cascaded the wall in the master bedroom, given a shelf in which it sat undisturbed.
Every night, Spencer found himself staring up at its cover and reading the title again, for the millionth time. It was known by heart, yet renewed with each read.
It would never get old, as a love would prosper from it's existence.
A true love that would never fade from it's creation.
Books were important, would never expire. And while each and every sole book in the collection was held dear, this specific book outweighed them all.
This book.
It would never grow old. It's interest would never fade. The love would never dissipate.
The Narrative of John Smith.
Would never fall out of love.
Like his love for Maeve