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Imogene James pulled on gloves and set protective goggles over her eyes. She activated the recorder and picked up her clipboard. "This is Dr. Imogene James and the date is September 15th, 2012. The time is 10:37 pm."
She unzipped the black body bag and peeled back the edges. "Victim is female, thirteen years of age; preliminary identification at scene of crime is Isabella Moore. Weight is approximately 100 pounds. Height is approximately five feet three inches."
No please, don't hurt her. Inez!
She shook her head and continued her visual examination. "Preliminary cause of death is exsanguination due to sharp force trauma and cutting injuries. The weapon appears to be a serrated blade due to - "
The girl's eyes opened and Imogene stumbled back into the table behind her. She barely managed to stifle a scream. "You left me there. How could you?"
"No," Imogene squeaked. "I had to find help."
"I hate you," the girl said. "You let him do this to me."
"No, Nezzie, you're not dead."
"I might as well be dead."
Imogene shut her eyes and clamped her hands over her ears. "No," she wheezed out. "It's over and Inez is fine. Stop talking."
"Imogene," someone yanked her hands away from her ears."
She clamped her eyes shut, and wrenched away from the hands. "Leave me alone. I had to do it. Go away."
"Imogene!"
Her eyes flew open and Spencer was there, his face white as marble. "Honey, what's wrong?"
She shook her head, reached for the recorder and slapped the off button. "I can't - go away, I'm just - oh God," she ripped off her gloves, threw them in the trash and ran from the autopsy suite.
"Imogene," Reid ran after her through deserted corridors, out of the stench of decomposing flesh and formaldehyde to her office. She slammed the door just before he would have stepped over the threshold.
"Imogene," he pounded on the door. "Please, talk to me," he pleaded.
"Go away."
His hand dropped to his side. Why would she hide like this and tell him to go away? He ducked his head and turned away from the door. He took three steps to the elevator before anger forced him around and back to the door. How dare she shut him out when she knew everything there is to know about him? She knew all his flaws and all his fears, everything that had hung over him all of his life.
"Imogene, open the door," he shouted.
"Go away, Spencer."
The tears in her voice broke his heart and evicted the sudden anger in him. "I'll go away if you want, but -"
He hung his head, and stared at his shoes. "I didn't want to say this now, and not through a door, but I love you Imogene. I can't stand it if you're hurting, but if you want me leave you alone -"
The door opened so suddenly he almost fell inside. She stood there, trembling, tears running down her red cheeks. She pulled him inside, slammed the door and threw her arms around his neck. She shook so hard she nearly pulled him to the floor.
"I can't believe you said it," she said into his ear.
"I-um I didn't plan on it. I was going to tell you over some romantic dinner, or -"
"I don't care, I've been waiting to hear those words from you since the first moment I saw you."
She wrenched away from him and sat on the edge of her desk. "I'm sorry I freaked out."
"I didn't tell you that to get an apology. I really mean it."
She hugged herself. "I believe you do. I love you too, but there're things you don't know about me, things I can't, no," she corrected herself, "Things I don't want to tell you. I've done terrible things."
He went to her and stroked one hand down her arm. "I don't understand why you don't trust me after all I've told you."
"Spencer, it's not that I don't trust you I just -"
"You know everything there is to know about me, but I don't know anything about you besides what you want me to know."
"That's not true."
"It is true, you told me you had a sister, but you didn't tell me she was your twin. You said you have parents but I don't know anything about them. I know you're very well educated and you come from money, not because you told me, but because I profiled you. Please tell me what's going on. I know something happened to you when you were a kid and -"
"Stop it," she shouted. "Stop profiling me. Did it ever occur to you that I wanted to tell you in my own time?"
"Yes," he said back very reasonably. "I've learned, though, that people often need a push -"
"Don't say it," she snapped. "I was patient with you and now you have to be patient with me whether you like it or not. If you'll excuse me," she brushed past him. "I have work to do."
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Imogene removed her blood and gore covered gloves. She switched off the recorder and stood staring at the body in front of her. The young girl lay there with her eyes closed, her body covered with white sheet to her neck. Under the harsh white light of the autopsy suite, the bruises on her face stood out against her grey skin like accusations.
It's your fault.
She shook her head and bit her lip as tears stung her eyes. That part of her life was over. She'd overcome it and become what she always wanted to be. Inez was happy, deliriously happy with Bart and the coming of her new baby. Why think about all of this now?
She yanked off her coat and hurried out of the suite. It was just after ten pm and there was someone she needed to see before she broke down completely and ran. Her office door was closed, but her lamp still lit her space. She stopped in surprise to see Spencer sitting in her chair, his feet on her desk, his arms crossed over his chest. He was asleep, breathing slow and deep. Several locks of his wavy golden brown hair fell across his face obscuring his it, so her eyes traveled over his body taking in his usual assistant professor uniform of royal blue slacks, a white shirt covered by a blue and silver sweater and matching tie. She automatically smiled at his mismatched socks peeking out from below his slacks and his dirty white running shoes. The tears she'd held back since fleeing the autopsy suite broke free and she wailed in misery. She sank into a chair and rocked back and forth.
Arms clasped her tight and swayed with her. "Oh baby, please don't cry. It's going to be okay. Hold onto me."
"Spencer," she gasped out. "I'm so sorry."
"It's okay, just hold onto me."
She turned her face into him and breathed in the scent that was him. "I'm alright," she pulled away after a few agonizing minutes.
She stood up and hugged him tight; he kissed the top of her head. "I'm sorry," she said. "You deserve an explanation. Let's get out of here and I'll tell you everything."
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"You don't have to do this."
Reid sat on her couch. She lay with her head in his lap, a glass of white wine on the glass coffee table near them.
"Yes, I do, you need to know what happened to me and Inez when we were thirteen. We were both kidnapped. I still don't remember how it happened. I remember waking up in this basement in pitch-black darkness with a lump on my head and I was tied up. Inez was there too. I never knew where we were until after I managed to escape. I got away because he was alone and careless. I had to leave Inez because she had a broken ankle. She tried to get away from him when he grabbed her and fell. She couldn't run again. I found another house a mile away and the couple there called the police."
"Imogene…"
She held back tears by sheer force of will. "I'll never forget what I saw when they took me to the hospital. She was beaten nearly to death and he'd - um he'd raped her. He was, um, he was unable to - they said it was because of his rage that I escaped, and he used something a broom handle, oh God."
He gathered her up in his arms and held on so tight it hurt, but she let him hold. "It wasn't your fault."
"I know; I did what I had to do. My parents were wonderful, and so were the authorities, the police and the doctors we saw, but I still feel like I shouldn't have left her there to bear the brunt of his rage. He could've killed her. She can't have children because of what I did."
"Whoa…" Reid pushed her away. "You didn't do that to her. It was his fault, Imogene, and his alone. Do not blame yourself for his evil."
"Spencer."
"No," he snapped and got up to pace. "Did you hear what you just said? You said you did what you had to do, but then you said she can't have children because of what you did. You're still blaming yourself, deep down inside. You have to let it go."
She nodded, "I'll make you a deal. I'll do my best to let go of my baggage, if you do the same."
"Alright, I'll do my best," He agreed. "Now, there's something we need to do."
She watched him get up and walk toward her. He was shaking, but there was resolution in his eyes that she'd never seen. "Spencer, what are you doing?"
He suddenly resembled someone about to do something they'd thought about for a long time but couldn't find the courage. "I - um, I'm ready."
She almost laughed, but held it down. "Baby, what are you ready for?"
"I'm ready, well; I think I'm ready for more intimate relations with you. If you still want to, that is."
She couldn't hold back her laughter. He hung his head and tried to leave, but she grabbed his arm. "I'm not laughing at you, baby. I love you and I've been waiting very impatiently for you to be ready. It's just that, your proposal is the most interesting I've had in my life."
He snorted out laughter. "Yeah, I guess I'm just very nervous. I've never, well, I don't have experience and I don't want -"
She stopped him with a kiss. "I have every faith in your ability to learn quickly."
He hugged her and she smiled because he wasn't trembling anymore. "Well, I'd say that someone is very ready for a little fun."
She reached for the bulge in his pants and stroked him. He jerked and closed his eyes. "Oh, Imogene, don't stop."
"Why don't we go to my room?"
He nodded and let her lead him away. She turned on one lamp near her bed and turned to face him. "Why don't we talk for a minute?"
"No, I don't want to talk. I'm so nervous, I'm afraid I'll chicken out."
He pulled off his tie and let it fall. She took his hand and lifted it to her face. She slid her tongue over his finger and along the inside of his wrist. He sighed again and bent forward to kiss her at the same time she lifted her head. "Ouch," they both cried when their heads banged together.
"You okay," she said rubbing her temple.
"Yes, I'm alright," he nodded. "Maybe we shouldn't -"
"I'm not going to let a little head bump stop me from ravaging you."
He swallowed and she smirked. "Now, where were we?" She tugged him close and applied her mouth to his neck.
"Imogene," he sighed and gasped as she ground her hips into him.
"Touch me."
"How do I -?"
She pulled back from him and removed her blouse and bra. "I think your hands need something to fill them."
He reached out, and then let his hand touch her torso instead of the breasts that tantalized him. He stroked her side and her stomach. She began to laugh uncontrollably and he stopped. "What is it?"
"Ticklish," she gasped.
"Oh, really," he applied his hands to her abdomen again and she screamed out laughter.
"Stop it," she cried.
"Oh no," he held on to her and tickled to his hearts content.
She pushed him away and they both fell on the bed. She tried to roll him over, but he fought her. She yanked up his shirt, which tore it and tickled his sides. He laughed, released her and she flipped him over. They hit the edge of the bed and fell to the floor.
"Ow," Reid screamed as she toppled on top of him.
"Spencer," she scrambled off him, but he didn't move. "Spencer," she screamed.