Chapter Fourteen
Ashley had accidentally fallen asleep in his arms, later that night. Spencer had picked her up and carried her to her bedroom, with minor difficulty. Although she was tall, she was lean, and she didn't weigh more than 110 pounds.
He had tried to let her go on the bed, he really had, but she had clung to his shirt so tightly that it was impossible. His plan had been to lay with her until she let go, or loosened her grip. His plan would've worked too, except that as he lay with her, he too fell asleep.
He awoke later, around ten. The bed next to him looked as though someone had slept in it, but no one was there. After a few moments he remembered where he was and deduced what had happened. Pushing himself up, he saw no one. Going downstairs, however, led him into the kitchen, where a cheery Ashley was frying eggs.
He walked up behind her and when she turned around to get something he planted a zealous kiss on her lips. "Mmm!" she cried, shocked for a moment, before relaxing. Pulling away, she smiled at the cheeky looking Spencer. "Good morning!" he said. She set down her spatula and coffee, and wrapped her arms around his neck before kissing him with equal fervor.
Chuckling, Spencer returned the kiss, before Ashley pulled away and looked at him. "Sleep well?" she asked. "Very well, thank you. And yourself?" he returned. "Same". "Why didn't you wake me?" Spencer asked. "You were so peaceful, and it's a Sunday! You should sleep in on Sundays" she informed him. He shook his head at her and smiled. "You should have woken me. I missed you" he told her. "You were sleeping" she said incredulously. "But I was dreaming of you" he told her truthfully. "You, my friend, are a hopeless romantic. It will get you far." She told him, planting a tender kiss on his lips, before handing him a plate of eggs.
Sitting down at the table, Ashley watched as he poured a cup of coffee. She giggled when Spencer poured what must have been half her sugar bowl in it. "Want some coffee with your sugar, dear?" she teased. "Oh, ha ha." Spencer muttered, while play glaring at her.
"Are you a cat or a dog person?" she asked. He looked at her quizzically. "I'm either, but I do generally prefer cats. Nice dogs can be too big, and small dogs are too mean. The right cat is the perfect blend. Why do you ask?" He was unsure of her reasoning. "I love animals, and the townhouse people here allow pets, but I didn't know what you like". "And you felt my opinion should factor into your choice?" he asked, hesitant of whether he should be overjoyed or cautious. "Well it would be pretty crappy if I got a pet and you could no longer enter my home because you had allergies, or hated it, or" and, once again, the cliché of kissing for a sentence ending was exercised. Spencer arose to get more coffee as Ashley looked after him.
Half Hour Later
"Spencer you've gone through my entire coffee pot." Ashley informed him as she made another batch. "Shamelessly. You have good coffee." He said cheekily. "And you're not even sheepish! God, if you went through all this coffee, I can only imagine my poor sugar supply! You're lucky I like to bake things without warning, or I wouldn't have enough!" she informed him, sitting down until the coffee machine was finished.
Ignoring her, Spencer asked what was on the day's agenda. "I'm finding a job. I might sing somewhere, because I love it, or I could bake, or there's a cute florist I saw down the street with a help wanted sign in its window." She told him. "You should sing. You're an amazing singer". He told her. Giggling, she kissed his cheek as she went to get the coffee. She poured them both a mug, adding the ungodly amount of sugar to his, before sitting down again.
They took sips from their identical mugs, both of them immediately wrinkling their noses and expostulating disgust before switching mugs. "How do you drink that?" asked Spencer. "Me! What about that sweet concoction you call coffee? Mine is black, thank you very little, which may be unusual, but that!" she couldn't even finish. "You drink black coffee?" Spencer couldn't even imagine going through the day with nothing but black coffee to run on.
His cell phone rang. "Oh no." he muttered. But, despite his hopes and prayers, the call was in fact a case. He looked at Ashley, unhappy. "Go. It's your job. You can't help it. Besides, it would have been boring, just following me around whilst I job search." She assured him. "You're perfect." He told her, kissing the top of her head. He quickly changed his clothes from the go-bag that remained in the car and was out the door in ten minutes.
Later that day, Ashley got the job at the florist. She was to help with bookkeeping and arrange flowers for customers' special orders. She went home satisfied, but strangely empty. Looking out the view of her bedroom window, her eyes fell on a star that seemed to shine brighter than the others. 'I love him.' She thought to the star. 'I love him, but he doesn't love me. How could he. He's this amazing person and I'm just… me. Oh little star, please help me.'
Across the country, in a small inn in Wisconsin, Spencer Reid was thinking the same thing about her to the little star.